Page 95 of Drunk On Love
“You’re not touching another coffee until you go home and get some actual rest,” he said, crossing his arms and blocking my hand.
I shot Kartik a glare, my fingers still poised over the keyboard. “You sound like your wife right now.”
“I'm serious, Manav,” he continued. “You can't keep running on caffeine. It's unhealthy, even for someone as annoyingly perfect as you.”
“Annoyingly perfect? That's rich, coming from the guy who once spent a week obsessing over the perfect shade of blue for the company logo.”
He leaned forward, placing both hands on the table. “Listen to me. Whatever is eating you up, you’re not going to solve it by turning into a zombie who lives in the office. Go. Home.”
I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair as Kartik's footsteps faded. My heart was racing, and it had nothing to do with the caffeine or the impending meeting.
I’ve been alone for so long—by choice, by design. And yet, the thought of that empty house, that empty bed, that empty kitchen without her… It’s unbearable.
I leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk to steady myself. My head felt like it was caught in a vice, a dull throb pounding relentlessly against my temples. Maybe Kartik was right. Maybe I did need rest, a break, something to snap me out of this downward spiral. But even rest wouldn’t fix this. I slammed my laptop shut and pushed away from the desk. Everything could wait. Except for the sound of her laugh, I couldn’t unhear.
____________
“Sir, I really can't let—” The receptionist's protests were drowned out by the chime of the elevator, and I stepped inside, cutting her off with a curt. “She’s expecting me.” Whether or not that was true didn’t matter. I had to see her.
Her studio was exactly her: elegant, serene, quietly powerful. A place you didn’t want to leave.
My footsteps slowed as I spotted her through the glass of a sunlit cabin. Kiara. She was dancing, completely lost in the flow. Her eyes were closed, her movements fluid and purposeful, as if the world outside didn’t exist. Her arms painted patterns in the air, and her feet glided effortlessly across the floor. She looked… divine.
I knocked softly on the glass, but she didn’t hear me— she was in her element, unreachable in the best way. My hands slid into my pockets as I stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind me. Leaning against the wall, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Each movement was a blend of grace and strength, her body telling a story without words. For a moment, I forgot why I was here. All I could do was watch her, mesmerized. She was beautiful beyond words.
And then, without warning, her eyes opened, locking directly onto mine. For a second, she froze, her movements halting mid-flow as she blinked at me, startled.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, her breath slightly uneven, strands of hair clinging to her flushed face.
I pushed off the wall, taking a few steps toward her. “Is this how you write magic?”
“It’s meditation… works wonders.”
“Teach me,” I interrupted, stepping closer.
Her brows knitted together. “What?”
“Thismagic.”
“Manav Oberoi wants to meditate?” Her laugh bubbled out, light and incredulous. She crossed her arms, giving me that skeptical look that always made my pulse stutter. “You’re serious?”
“As serious as your attempts at cooking,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. I stepped onto the makeshift dance floor, standing across from her. She shook her head, muttering something under her breath about stubborn billionaires before moving closer.
“Okay, start by mirroring me,” she instructed, placing her hands loosely in front of her, her body swaying slightly to the music still playing in the background.
I tried to follow her lead, but my movements were stiff and clumsy compared to her effortless grace. She stifled a laugh, stepping closer.
“Relax…” She said, grabbing my hands. “You’re not closing a business deal. Loosen up.”
Her touch sent a jolt through me, but I did my best to relax, letting her guide me. Her hands moved mine gently, adjusting my stance. We were close now, her scent intoxicating, her warmth impossible to ignore.
“Like this,” she said softly, swaying her hips in rhythm with the music.
I followed her lead, letting her movements guide mine. It wasn’t long before we were moving together, the gap between us shrinking with every step.
“Not bad.”
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