Chapter 4: Lines, Coffee & Chaos

The morning sun streamed through the half-closed blinds.

Poornima stood in front of the mirror, fixing the pin on her saree with precision. Her sindur was faint, just barely visible — more out of obligation than emotion. Her face was calm, cold. But inside… stormy.

She grabbed her laptop bag, her ID card, and stepped out of the room.

Veeresh was already dressed — dark grey shirt tucked neatly, rolled-up sleeves revealing his veins, hair wet and sharp. He stood near the dining table, sipping water, eyes tracking her every move.

> “Ready for the battlefield?” he asked lazily.

> “Better than staying in a warzone like this house,” she replied smoothly, grabbing her heels.

He smirked and looked at her one last time before asking —

> “Coffee?”

She paused, met his gaze, and nodded — with that fake, formal smile.

> “Alright. I’ll make it.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. She walked into the kitchen without another word.

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☕ In the Kitchen

Poornima placed the filter coffee on the stove. The aroma began to fill the air. She reached for the cups.

That’s when she felt it.

His hand — warm, strong — resting on her waist.

She stiffened.

> “Veeresh…” she warned, not even turning. “Don’t.”

But he leaned closer. One hand still holding her waist, the other gently brushing her hair aside.

His lips landed softly on her neck.

She flinched.

Then harder. He marked her — slow and possessive. A deep kiss right below her ear.

Poornima gasped, turning toward him, her voice low but sharp.

> “What are you doing?! You’re crossing the line.”

His gaze didn’t flicker.

> “And I love to cross the line with you, Poornima.”

He stepped even closer.

> “Agreement or not, you’re mine. And I’ll remind you… every day.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

She stared into his eyes — unreadable, burning, stubborn.

She snatched her bag off the counter, heart racing, neck still tingling, and stormed toward the door.

> “I don’t have time for this insanity,” she muttered.

As she opened the door, he called out, without looking:

> “Don’t forget your coffee.”

She ignored him and left, slamming the door behind.

---

🕴️ A Few Minutes Later

Veeresh stood alone in the kitchen, sipping the hot coffee she had made for him. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

> “She made it for me anyway,” he murmured to himself.

He buttoned his cuff, grabbed his keys, and left for work — the fire in his chest far from extinguished.