A week had passed since that awkward first encounter, a week filled with project work, furtive glances, and a constant, fluttering anxiety whenever Parth was around. Rhea and I were deeply immersed in our literature project, spending hours huddled together in her room, surrounded by books and notes. The work was straightforward, but Parth's presence in the house was anything but. Every time I saw him, my cheeks would flush, my hands would tremble, and I’d inevitably make some clumsy mistake bumping into walls, spilling water, fumbling with papers.

He remained an enigma. Always busy with his father, immersed in conversations I couldn't overhear, his interactions with the rest of the household polite but distant. His parents were kind, warm even, but his mother had a peculiar strictness towards Rhea, a constant veiled disapproval that Rhea seemed to navigate with a practiced sigh. Yet, beneath that strictness, I could see the deep love she held for her daughter. I was happy for rhea, truly, but my own inner turmoil regarding Parth was growing.

I tried to tell myself it was just a crush, a fleeting attraction born from proximity and his undeniable good looks. I told myself that his indifference was a clear sign that he wasn't interested, that I should focus on my studies and my friendship with Rhea . But a stubborn part of me couldn't let go. There was something about him, a quiet intensity, a hidden depth, that drew me in.

One sunny afternoon, Rhea and I decided to take a break from our studies and enjoy the pleasant weather in the sprawling garden. We settled ourselves on a comfortable garden bench, armed with our notebooks and a shared thermos of tea. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, a stark contrast to the turmoil in my heart.

As we were engrossed in our work, discussing a particularly poignant passage from a novel, a sudden rustling in the nearby bushes made us both jump. Before we could even react, a long, slender snake slithered out from the undergrowth and coiled itself onto our table, its forked tongue flicking inquisitively.

My breath hitched in my throat. My eyes widened in terror, and a scream ripped from my lungs. "SNAKE!" I shrieked, leaping from my chair as if it were on fire. My heart hammered against my ribs, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I stumbled backward, my eyes glued to the terrifying creature.

Rhea, equally startled, screamed and ran in the opposite direction, disappearing towards the house. I, on the other hand, was frozen in a state of panic, my legs refusing to move. I could feel the cold sweat breaking out on my skin, my body trembling uncontrollably.

Just then, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching from the direction of the main gate. It was Parth. He was walking towards the house, his phone in his hand, his gaze fixed on the screen. He seemed completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him, the snake, my terror, everything.

In my panicked state, I took a step backward, completely disoriented. My heel caught on something, and I stumbled, losing my balance completely. I lurched forward, crashing directly into Parth. He yelped in surprise, and his phone, which he had been holding precariously, slipped from his grasp and shattered on the stone pathway.

"CRACK!" The sound echoed in the sudden silence.

Parth’s head shot up, his eyes, usually so calm, now blazing with a furious disbelief. He looked down at his shattered phone, then at me, his face contorted with rage.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared, his voice cutting through the air like a whip.

My own panic was momentarily overshadowed by his fury. "S-snake!" I stammered, pointing a trembling finger towards the table where the snake was still coiled, seemingly unfazed by the commotion. "There's a snake! It's on the table!"

But Parth wasn't listening. His entire focus was on his phone, the shattered screen a testament to my clumsiness. "My phone! Do you have any idea how expensive that was?" he snarled, his voice laced with venom.

He glared at me, his eyes like chips of ice, his anger palpable. "You are so careless, Payal! Always stumbling, always breaking things! Can't you ever be careful for once in your life?"

( I beat him later 🤪for this behaviour..I mean after being in relationship with him )

I stood there, speechless, my heart sinking. He hadn't even noticed the snake. His anger was directed solely at me, at my perceived carelessness. The unfairness of it all, coupled with my lingering terror of the snake, was overwhelming.

"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, tears welling up in my eyes. "I didn't mean to. There was a snake..."

"A snake?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You always have an excuse, don't you? Always blaming something else for your mistakes."

He didn't wait for me to respond. He pushed past me, his gaze still fixed on the shattered remains of his phone, and stormed towards the house. He went directly to Rhea room, his anger radiating off him in waves.

"Rhea !" he boomed, his voice echoing through the house. Rhea, who had just returned, looking shaken but unharmed, rushed out to meet him. He pulled her into a tight hug, his voice softening slightly as he spoke to her, asking if she was okay, if she had seen the snake.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, watching them. My heart ached. He was concerned for his sister, but he had completely dismissed my terror, my own near-accident. He saw me as nothing more than a clumsy nuisance.

After a few moments, he released Rhea his anger seemingly momentarily appeased by her well-being. He glanced back at me, his eyes still cold, still furious. Then, without another word, he turned and left the house, heading towards the main gate. I heard him talking to the guards, his voice stern as he instructed them to find the snake and ensure everyone's safety.

I was left standing there, alone and heartbroken, the silence of the garden amplifying my sense of isolation. The snake was still on the table, a chilling reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. I felt a surge of humiliation and anger. He had completely dismissed my fear, my near-disaster, all because of his precious phone.

Slowly, painfully, I made my way back to Rhea s room. The corridor seemed longer now, the distance more arduous. I pushed open the door and found Rhea sitting on her bed, looking upset. She must have sensed my distress.

"Payal, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

I nodded, unable to speak, and hobbled towards her. I sat down beside her, the pain in my ankle a dull throb, but the pain in my heart far worse. I didn't say anything about Parth's reaction, about his anger, about his indifference. What was the point? He clearly didn't care.

I washed my face, trying to calm my racing heart and control my trembling hands. The encounter with the snake, followed by Parth's brutal reaction, had left me shaken to the core. I sat down at the table, picked up my notebook, and tried to focus on the project, but my mind was a jumble of fear, anger, and a strange, persistent ache that had nothing to do with my ankle.

As I stared at the words on the page, they blurred before my eyes. All I could see was Parth’s furious face, his eyes like shards of ice, his voice laced with contempt. He thought I was careless, clumsy, a nuisance. And perhaps, in that moment, I was. But beneath the layers of my perceived flaws, there was a deep well of emotion, a vulnerability that he had completely failed to see.

And as I sat there, trying to push away the sting of his words, a new thought began to take root in my mind, a dangerous, alluring thought. What if, just maybe, his anger, his indifference, was just a mask? What if, beneath that cold exterior, there was something more, something that he was desperately trying to hide? The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating, a spark of defiance in the face of his dismissal. I might be clumsy, I might be scared, but I was not invisible. And I would not be dismissed. The project awaited, but a new, more dangerous project had just begun in my heart.

Months had passed since the snake incident. The memory of Parth’s icy glare and indifferent dismissal had been a constant thorn in my side, a painful reminder of my perceived clumsiness and his coldness. I had avoided going to Rhea's house ever since, finding excuses to meet her elsewhere. My semester exams were looming, and I was determined to bury myself in my studies, to forget about Parth and the unsettling attraction I felt towards him.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans. My parents had left for a cousin’s wedding in their ancestral village, leaving me alone in our city apartment. My semester exams were in full swing, and I desperately needed some specific notes that were back at my parents' place. Rhea, my best friend, was in the same predicament with her exams, and her study center was the same as mine.

"You know," Rhea said one afternoon, scrolling through her phone, " maa said that parth bhai kab drop us off at your place and then pick us up. My mom keeps insisting he help us out."

My heart did a nervous little flutter. Parth. Just the mention of his name sent a jolt through me. "I don't know, Rhea," I hesitated. "After… after the snake incident, I haven't really spoken to him. And I don't want to bother him."

Rhea waved her hand dismissively. "Don't be silly. He's your best friend's brother. He'll do it. Besides, my mom wants him to help us out. You know how she is about family obligations."

Reluctantly, I agreed. Rhea’s mother, a stern but kind woman, had always treated me like a daughter. If she insisted, I couldn’t refuse.

The day arrived, a Tuesday, crisp and clear. Parth, looking as stoic and handsome as ever, pulled up in his car. He didn't greet me, just gave a curt nod to Rhea and gestured for us to get in. The car ride was excruciatingly silent. Rhea tried to fill the void with chatter, but Parth’s terse responses and his intense focus on the road created an almost palpable tension. I stole furtive glances at him, his profile sharp and defined against the passing scenery, his hands steady on the steering wheel. Even in his silence, he commanded an undeniable presence.

When we reached my colony gate, Parth pulled over. "I'll wait here," he said, his voice flat, betraying no emotion. "You go get your things. Don't take too long."

I nodded, my heart pounding. As I got out of the car, I turned back to him. "Thank you, Parth," I said, my voice softer than intended. I also wanted to apologize for breaking his phone, to settle that lingering debt. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a wad of cash. "And… this is for your phone. I’m really sorry about that."

He took the money without a word, his expression unchanging. "You should go," he said, his tone final. "I won't wait long."

I got out of the car, the money clutched in my hand, a strange mix of relief and disappointment washing over me. He didn't want to talk, didn't want any interaction beyond the purely transactional. It stung, but I also knew I shouldn't push it. I hurried into my house, grabbed my exam notes, and quickly returned to the car.

"I got it all," I said, sliding back into the seat. "You can go now."

He nodded, put the car in gear, and drove away without another word. I watched him go, a pang of something akin to regret settling in my chest.

Back at Rhea's house, I explained my sudden departure. "I got my period," I said, trying to sound convincing. "I won't be able to come over for a few days. I need to rest."

Rhea was annoyed. "Payal! We have so much to do! How could you spring this on me now?"

I apologized profusely, trying to placate her. After a long conversation, she finally relented, though her grumbles could still be heard in the background. I spent the rest of the day diligently preparing for my final exam, trying to push Parth and the awkwardness of the day out of my mind.

The next day was the final exam. Rhea and I met at the center, both of us relieved that the stressful period was finally over. We passed with flying colors, a huge weight lifted from our shoulders.

"We need to celebrate!" Rhea declared, beaming. "I'm calling my brother. He's going to pick us up."

"No!" I protested immediately. "Rhea, I can't. I really don't want to see him again. Not after… everything."

"Don't be silly, Payal," she insisted, already dialing his number. "He's family. And he's picking us up. You can't just refuse."

Before I could argue further, she was on the phone with him, arranging the pickup. I sighed, defeated. I was trapped.

Within the hour, Parth's car pulled up. This time, Rhea practically dragged me into the car, her excitement palpable. The ride back to their house was, once again, silent. Parth seemed to have an uncanny ability to create an atmosphere of quiet detachment. Rhea, however, was buzzing with energy, her laughter occasionally breaking the silence.

When we arrived at their house, Parth simply said, "I'll be in my study. Call if you need anything." And with that, he disappeared, leaving Rhea and me to our own devices.

Rhea suggested a small celebration. "Let's order some food, watch a movie! We deserve it!" she exclaimed.

I agreed, happy to escape the lingering awkwardness of Parth's presence. We ordered a feast – popcorn, momos, noodles, French fries – and settled on the sofa in the living room. Rhea picked out a movie, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "Let's watch something fun," she said, popping in the DVD. "Fifty Shades of Grey."

My eyebrows shot up. "Rhea! Really?"

She just grinned. "Why not? We've earned it. And besides, it’s just a movie."

As the opening credits rolled, the lights dimmed, and the movie began. The explicit scenes unfolded on the screen, our laughter occasionally punctuated by gasps of surprise or mock shock. We were two young women, celebrating the end of a stressful exam period, reveling in our freedom, and indulging in a bit of cinematic voyeurism. The forbidden nature of the film, coupled with the delicious spread of food, created an atmosphere of shared indulgence and innocent rebellion. We were lost in the fantasy, the real world of strict parents, demanding studies, and complicated attractions fading into the background. The movie played on, its explicit content providing a thrilling, yet ultimately harmless, escape.

The opening scene of "Fifty Shades of Grey" flickered across the screen, the dimly lit room amplifying the on-screen sensuality. Rhea and I, nestled amongst a mountain of popcorn, momos, and noodles, found ourselves drawn into the opulent world of Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey. Initially, our reactions were a mix of giggles and feigned shock, punctuated by comments about the extravagant lifestyle depicted.

"Can you imagine owning a helicopter like that?" Rhea whispered, her eyes wide as Christian Grey's private jet was shown.

"Or a penthouse with a view like that?" I added, munching on a momo. "Our university dorms are a bit different."

Our laughter was light, carefree, a welcome release after weeks of intense studying. But as the movie progressed, the atmosphere in the room began to shift. The casual commentary faded, replaced by a more subdued attention. The explicit nature of the film, initially a source of amusement, started to create a different kind of buzz in the air.

Rhea, who had been relatively vocal, grew quieter, her gaze fixed on the screen. I found myself increasingly drawn into the intense dynamics between the characters, the palpable chemistry, the exploration of power and submission. It was a world far removed from our own, yet strangely compelling.

As Christian Grey’s “Red Room of Pain” was unveiled, a hushed silence fell over us. The sheer audacity and extravagance of it, the sheer power he wielded, was both shocking and undeniably… intriguing. Rhea nudged me, a sly grin on her face. "Wow," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "That's… intense."

I could only nod, my throat suddenly dry. My own earlier anxieties about Parth seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a different kind of fascination. The movie’s exploration of BDSM, while extreme, touched upon themes of control, desire, and surrender that, in a twisted way, resonated with the complex feelings I had towards Parth. His aloofness, his control, his moments of casual dominance – they all seemed to echo in the characters on screen.

We continued to watch, our initial playful reactions giving way to a more absorbed, almost voyeuristic, engagement. The food lay forgotten as the movie’s narrative took hold, its explicit content now a focal point rather than a mere talking point. There were moments where I found myself blushing, averting my eyes, only to be drawn back by the sheer intensity of the on-screen portrayal. Rhea, too, was captivated, her usual bubbly demeanor replaced by a quiet, contemplative observation.

The film’s exploration of power dynamics, consent, and the blurred lines between pleasure and pain, began to weave its way into my thoughts. It was a stark contrast to the innocent, innocent attraction I had felt towards Parth in the beginning.

As the credits rolled, a thick silence descended upon the room. Rhea and I looked at each other, a shared understanding passing between us. We didn't need to articulate what we had seen, the emotions it had stirred. It was a boundary we had crossed together, a shared exploration of desires we hadn’t dared to voice.

"Well," Rhea said finally, breaking the silence with a shaky laugh. "That was… something."

I nodded, unable to articulate my own complex feelings. The movie had been more than just entertainment; it had been an awakening, a catalyst for introspection. It had peeled back another layer of my own burgeoning desires, desires that were inextricably linked to the enigmatic, infuriating man named Parth. The thought of him, now amplified by the film's themes, sent a fresh wave of heat through me, a confusing mix of apprehension and undeniable craving. The night, which had started as a simple celebration, had taken an unexpectedly spicy turn, leaving me with more questions than answers about myself, and about the man who occupied so much of my thoughts.

The lingering images from "Fifty Shades of Grey" still swirled in my mind, leaving a persistent, unsettling horniness that refused to dissipate. Rhea, with her uncanny ability to read me like an open book, must have sensed my mood. She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and then, with a sly wink, reached for the remote.

"You know," she said, her voice laced with playful innuendo, "since we've already delved into the… *spicier* side of cinema, how about we continue the theme?"

Before I could protest, or even fully process her suggestion, she was scrolling through a different menu, her fingers dancing across the screen with practiced ease. My heart began to thrum a nervous rhythm against my ribs. Rhea knew I had a crush on someone, a secret I guarded fiercely, but she had no idea it was her brother, Parth. Yet, her teasing never stopped, always hinting that she *knew*, always pushing me to reveal my hidden desires.

"Rhea, I don't know..." I began, my voice a little shaky.

"Oh, come on, Payal!" she interrupted, her eyes twinkling. "It's just a movie. And honestly, after that last one, this will probably seem tame." She navigated to a different genre, her selection accompanied by a suggestive thumbnail. "Besides," she added, leaning closer, "you've been acting all weird and flushed since Parth dropped us off. Something's going on, isn't it?"

I blushed furiously, looking away. "N-nothing's going on," I stammered, my gaze fixed on the colorful array of snacks scattered between us.

Rhea just laughed, a knowing, teasing sound. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say. But I see it, Payal. That little secret you're hiding. It’s okay, I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything." She paused, then added, with a wicked grin, "Or we can just… watch."

And with that, she pressed play. The screen flickered to life, revealing a scene that was, if anything, even more explicit than the previous film. This wasn't Hollywood fantasy; this was raw, unadulterated pornography. My initial shock quickly gave way to a primal surge of arousal, a feeling that mirrored the insatiable craving that had been building within me all day.

Rhea, far from being shocked, seemed to relish the explicitness. She watched with an almost clinical fascination, occasionally offering a commentary that was both astute and surprisingly vulgar. "Look at the way he moves," she’d murmur, or, "She’s definitely enjoying that." Her nonchalance both unnerved and strangely emboldened me. It was as if a dam had broken, and all the suppressed desires, the unspoken yearnings, were finally finding an outlet.

The scenes on screen became more intense, more brutal, more raw. The moans, the guttural cries, the sounds of skin against skin – it all created a cacophony that mirrored the turmoil within me. My own body responded instinctively, a low thrumming starting deep within my core. I found myself unconsciously shifting on the sofa, my legs pressing together, my breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps.

Rhea noticed my discomfort, my escalating arousal. Her teasing took on a new edge. "Feeling it, Payal?" she purred, her eyes fixed on me. "That movie really got to you, didn't it?"

I could only nod, my throat too tight to speak. My gaze was glued to the screen, yet my mind was a whirlwind, conjuring images of Parth, his hard body, his piercing gaze, his indifferent yet captivating presence. The movie's raw depiction of sex was blurring with my own fantasies, creating a potent cocktail of desire and guilt.

"You know," Rhea continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "sometimes, when you crave something this badly, the only way to get it is to… take it."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. She was talking about me, about my hidden desires, about Parth. I could feel my cheeks burning, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen, or from Rhea's knowing gaze.

"

The movie continued, its scenes becoming increasingly graphic, more intense. The sounds of pleasure and pain mingled, blurring into a single, overwhelming sensory experience. My own body was now responding in ways I couldn't control. A low moan escaped my lips, involuntary and raw, as a particularly intense scene unfolded on screen.

Rhea turned to me, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and triumph. "See?" she whispered, her voice husky. "I knew it. You want it, don't you?

Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and stinging. I couldn’t deny it any longer. The movie, Rhea's relentless teasing, and the lingering memories of Parth's indifferent yet potent presence had pushed me over the edge. I was a mess, a hormonal, confused, and utterly consumed mess.

Rhea’s grin widened, a predator’s triumphant smile. "I knew it!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me in a surprisingly fierce hug. "Oh, Payal! I'm so happy for you! And don't worry," she added, pulling back, her eyes gleaming, "I'll help you get him. We'll make him yours but just tell me who is he ?

But i didn't say anything.i just shook my head in no so.... she starts teasing me and after that again she starts watching the movie.

The rest of the movie passed in a blur. Rhea’s words had ignited a fire within me, a potent mix of longing and determination. The explicit scenes on screen, once a source of discomfort, now seemed to be a blueprint, a guide to the forbidden desires that I had been so desperately trying to suppress. The boundaries had blurred, the lines had been crossed, and I knew, with a terrifying certainty, that my life, and my relationship with Parth, would never be the same again. The night was far from over, and the seeds of a dangerous, exhilarating future had just been sown.