Unspoken Desires Part III

Chapter 3: The Edge of Breath

Night had fallen.
The old walls of the mansion were slowly cooling, but the air in Ravi’s room was still heavy — as if some invisible hand were gently holding his throat.

He kept turning restlessly on his bed. Sleep had stopped visiting him ever since he came here.
The window was still open — that same window which had now become his habit.
Behind the curtain, faint shadows moved; in the air, a fragrance floated — strange, intoxicating, like perfume mixed with mystery.
And then, a sound… very faint… like someone breathing… or whispering…

Ravi sat up with a jolt.

The sound was clearer now.

“Hmm… ahh… uff…”

A low, broken breath. A movement — more felt in the soul than the body.

He stood up. His steps moved toward the window without making a sound. His own breathing was so loud that he could hear it echoing in his ears.

The opposite window was now completely open.

And there — behind the light curtain — was the shadow of a woman. Sitting. Her back arched. Head tilted upward. Lips… slightly parted.

She wasn’t sitting on the floor — she was on the bed. Her body swayed as if caught in an invisible wave. Her hair was scattered. And the sounds were no longer faint.

“Yes… just… there…”

Ravi’s soul trembled.

Was this desire… or something else?

He tried to look away — but it was as if some unseen force had held him still.

Suddenly, their eyes met.

The shadow was now clear.

It was Nazia.

Her eyes were open.

She was looking — straight at Ravi.

And then… she smiled.

A smile no ordinary woman could wear.

Ravi stepped back. His throat went dry. Sweat drenched his body. Inside him, a strange storm stirred — a mingling of fear and fascination.

He fell back onto the bed, but sleep still kept its distance.

When morning came, sunlight filled the room — yet the darkness of that night still ran through Ravi’s veins.

He went to the bathroom, took a shower, but the pull on his body remained — as if invisible fingers still traced across his back.

He didn’t feel like going downstairs, but hunger forced him.

In the kitchen, Nazia was already there — wearing a red sari, hair loose, the same faint smile on her lips.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, without looking at him.

Ravi lied, “Yes… a little broken, but fine.”

He noticed — Nazia’s gaze rested on his neck, where a thin line of sweat still glistened.

“You sweat so easily,” she said. “And summer hasn’t even arrived yet.”

Ravi looked embarrassed.

“What can I do? I just… can’t sleep at night.”

“At night, many things happen when sleep doesn’t come,” she whispered, and handed him a cup of tea.

Ravi took it — but his fingers brushed against hers.

That touch… was like an electric current.

Nazia didn’t pull away. Her fingers still rested on his.

“If you ever feel the need… you can come talk to me,” she said softly. “Loneliness at night can get… heavy.”

Ravi couldn’t speak.

She took the cup back, smiled, and walked inside.

Ravi stood there — his breath still warm.

That evening, as he returned from work, his steps quickened. He didn’t just crave sleep anymore… there was something else pulling him back to that mansion.

As soon as he entered his room, his eyes went to the window.

There was a small envelope lying there — again.

This time, there were no words.

Only a small piece of scented silk — blue, delicate… and on it, a single strand of hair.

Ravi’s heartbeat raced.

He understood now — Nazia wasn’t just watching him.
She was calling him.

That night, when the window opened, Nazia wasn’t there. The room across was dark.
But from deep within the mansion came a soft sound — the tinkling of bangles, the faint clink of glass.

Then… a knock on the door.

Ravi froze.

“Ravi?” Nazia’s voice came from outside. “If you’re not asleep… I need a little help.”

Without a word, Ravi opened the door.

Nazia stood there — not in a sari tonight, but in a pale pink silk gown, clinging to her body, tracing every curve.

“Something fell in my room — I can’t reach it. If you could just…”

Ravi couldn’t form words. He simply nodded.

He followed her inside.

Until now, he had only seen her room through the window — now, he was in it.

The air smelled strange — of roses, and something very old… like rotting wood, or forgotten memories.

“There it is,” she said, pointing at a glass box that had rolled under the bed.

Ravi bent down to pick it up.

And as he did, Nazia stepped closer — standing just behind him.

Her breath brushed the back of his neck.

“You look good when you’re sweating,” she whispered.

Ravi lifted the box and straightened up — their eyes met.

So close.
Too close.

His hands moved — almost reaching for her waist — but then stopped.

Nazia smiled.

“You’ve been very restrained so far,” she said. “But your eyes… they tell everything your lips don’t.”

Ravi’s fingers hung in the air.

And then Nazia placed her hand on his chest.

“Tell me, Ravi…” she whispered. “…do you think every woman who lives alone is truly alone?”

Ravi was about to answer — when the lights flickered.

And then — went out.

For a moment, silence.

Then something cold trickled down Ravi’s neck.

He stepped back — and saw Nazia still standing there.
But her eyes now gleamed with something different.

“You’ve stepped into my room, Ravi…” her voice was deeper now, almost echoing.
“…and going back won’t be that easy.”

The electricity hadn’t returned.

And Nazia was now slowly walking toward him — her steps graceful, hypnotic, terrifying.

“Do you know, Ravi…” she whispered, “…when was the last time I invited someone into my room?”

Ravi couldn’t answer.

“It’s been ninety-nine nights…” she said.

The air in the room froze.

Ravi’s eyes widened.

Nazia’s fingers rose to his chin.

“Keep watching… don’t touch…” she repeated the same line once more.

“Because if you touch… you won’t survive.”