"SHE FELL FIRST BUT HE FELL HARDER"-an intriguing twist on a classic trope!
What happens when the girl is just as obsessed as the man? We often hear about male stalkers, but let's flip the script! Imagine a woman with the same intensity and passion...
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She didn't move. Didn't blink. Just stood there, gaze locked onto mine, like she was waiting.
But The way she was looking at me-like she wasn't scared, not even a little bit. It was almost infuriating. Almost tempting.
My jaw tightened.
I took a slow step forward, and she instinctively mirrored it backward until her back met the wooden frame of the doorway. There was nowhere left to go.
The dim light barely kissed her features, but I saw them clearly-those pretty brown doe eyes. A storm brewing inside them Like she could set this whole place ablaze if she wanted to.
And here I was, spending my entire day figuring out ways to protect her, dealing with things she shouldn't even know about. But Naina? She didn't follow rules. She shattered them. Walked over their broken pieces with a quiet defiance that made my blood run hot.
She shouldn't be here.
She shouldn't have gotten this close-so close to things I had spent my entire life burying.
A dangerous woman who was a rule-breaker. Who was not afraid of- Anything? Sure? Let not say this yet.
"Rule breaker" I murmured, my voice sharp as I tried to keep my expression unreadable.
"Excuse me?" she breathed and pretending she had no idea what I meant.
She's bad it.
I let the silence stretch, watching the way her breath hitched just slightly. The way her fingers curled against the wooden frame when I took another step closer.
"Mastering the art of doing exactly what you weren't told to do" I muttered in dangerously low voice as I continued, "Because when I say 'don't' you hear 'definitely do' Right?"
She held my stare, silent for a moment, as if trying to process my words.
Cute.
Her breathing was steady, but I heard it-the slightest hitch when I leaned in a little more. Close enough for her to feel my presence. Close, but not touching. Never touching.
"What's wrong?" she exclaimed, voice soft yet laced with challenge. "Not used to someone breaking your rules?"
I let out a slow breath as low smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "Not used to someone walking straight into danger"
Her lashes fluttered. "What type of danger?" She asked, Her gaze held mine, searching.
For what? Answers? A crack in the walls I had built so carefully?
"The kind you don't walk away from" I murmured, my voice low, deliberate.
Her lips parted, and for a second, just a second, I saw it-hesitation. A flicker of uncertainty in those sharp, fire-lit eyes.
