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"Kabir, if the reports aren't on my desk tomorrow morning, I swear I'll personally admit you as my patient."

Kia pushed through the glass doors of her apartment lobby, irritation sharp in her voice. It was 11:43 p.m., and exhaustion clung to her like a second skin.

"I don't care if you were tired. I was tired too. That's not an excuse-"

The lift doors slid open with a soft chime.

She stepped in without looking.

Still talking.

"And stop saying sorry every five minutes. Fix it instead-"

Kia glanced up mid-sentence.

And forgot what she was about to say.

Tall. Calm. Grey formal shirt, black pants. Nothing extravagant. Nothing flashy.

But the air shifted.

Not because he was trying.

Because he didn't need to.

She blinked once, quickly regaining composure.

"I'll call you later," she muttered into the phone and disconnected.

Silence settled between them as the doors shut.

She pressed 6.

He was already inside.

The display showed 10 glowing faintly.

She noticed.

Top floor.

She had never seen anyone from the top floor.

The lift began to move.

She could feel his presence behind her - not touching, but close enough to be aware of the space he occupied.

Too aware.

Her phone buzzed again.

She sighed and picked it up.

"Kabir, if this is another excuse-"

The lift jerked.

Hard.

Her balance slipped.

In one disoriented second, the world tilted and her heel twisted against the floor.

Before she could hit the wall-

An arm caught her.

Strong. Steady. Immediate.

Her palm collided with his chest.

Solid.

Warm.

Her other hand instinctively grabbed his forearm.



The lift steadied.

But neither of them moved.

For half a second too long.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

His hand was at her waist.

Not gripping.

Supporting.

Controlled.

She became acutely aware of everything.

The warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of her kurti.

The faint scent of soap and something darker.

The way his fingers tightened slightly - not possessive, not hesitant - just making sure she wouldn't fall.

"You okay?" His voice was low. Calm.

No panic.

She swallowed. "I-I'm fine."

But she didn't step back immediately.

And neither did he.

Her eyes lifted to meet his.

Dark. Unreadable. Watching her like he was trying to memorize something.

Not her body.

Her reaction.

Slowly, he released her waist.

But his hand brushed against hers as he did.

Accidental.

Or not.

The smallest spark ran up her arm.

She stepped back, straightening her kurti unnecessarily.

"Thank you."

He nodded once. "You fall easily."

Her brows shot up. "Excuse me?"

A faint curve tugged at his lips.

"Distracted," he corrected.

Her irritation returned, but weaker now. "And you don't?"

"Not in lifts."

The audacity.

The lift resumed smoothly.

Floor numbers climbed.

The silence wasn't awkward.

It was charged.

She became hyper-aware of the limited space. The steady rhythm of his breathing. The fact that he hadn't looked at her again once.

Most men stared.

He didn't.

The lift slowed.

The doors opened.

She stepped out.

Then paused.

Turned slightly.

"You live here?"

He leaned casually against the side panel, hands in pockets now.

"Sometimes."

Her eyes narrowed. "That's vague."

"So is your name," he replied calmly.

She blinked. "You don't know my name."

"I can read."

Her breath hitched slightly.

Her name badge from the hospital was still clipped to her kurti.

Dr. Kia sharma.

She hadn't even realized.

"Goodnight, Doctor," he said.

The way he said Doctor

felt intentional.

Not mocking.

Not flirting.

Claiming.

The doors began to close.

On instinct, she stepped forward slightly.

"What's your name?"

For the first time, something shifted in his expression.

Something almost... amused.

"Arav."

Just that.

No surname.

The doors slid shut.

She stood there for a moment longer than necessary.

Her waist still felt warm where his hand had been.

Upstairs, on the 10th floor, Arav stepped out into a private hallway that belonged entirely to him.

But there was nothing flashy about it.

No guards.

No noise.

Just silence.

He paused near the window.

Looked down.

And for the first time in a very long while-

He replayed a moment.

The way she grabbed his arm.

The way she didn't immediately pull away.

The way she looked at him without fear.

His jaw tightened subtly.

He didn't like being touched.

But tonight...

He hadn't minded.

And somewhere on the sixth floor-

Kia was standing in her room, staring at her reflection, trying to understand why a stranger's steady hands had made her heart misbehave.

Continue.