C22 Too Close to Breathe

The forest grew quieter the deeper they went.

The shouting voices faded behind them.

The headlights disappeared between the trees.

Only the sound of their footsteps and the cold mountain wind remained.

Aisha’s lungs burned from running.

“Are we… safe?” she asked between breaths.

Arjun didn’t slow down.

“Not yet.”

His grip on her hand never loosened.

Firm.

Steady.

Like he had no intention of letting her out of reach again.

They finally stopped when the trees opened into a narrow mountain ridge.

Below them, the road twisted through the valley like a silver ribbon under the moonlight.

Arjun scanned the area carefully.

Listening.

Watching.

Waiting.

No engines.

No voices.

No footsteps.

Only the wind.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

“We stop here for a minute.”

Aisha collapsed onto a flat rock, breathing heavily.

Her legs trembled.

Her heart was still racing from the adrenaline.

Arjun crouched beside her.

His eyes scanned her face again.

“You sure you’re not hurt?”

She rolled her eyes weakly.

“You’ve asked that six times.”

“I’ll ask seven if needed.”

His fingers gently lifted her wrist, checking the red rope marks.

The touch was careful.

Almost gentle.

Aisha watched him for a second.

The way his brows furrowed slightly.

The quiet concentration in his eyes.

Then she spoke.

“You still haven’t explained something.”

He glanced up.

“What?”

She crossed her arms.

“Why you ignored me for a month.”

Arjun leaned back slightly.

Silent.

“Oh no,” Aisha groaned.

“You’re not doing the mysterious soldier thing again.”

“I was on a mission.”

“That takes a whole month?”

“Yes.”

“And phones magically stop working?”

He didn’t answer.

Aisha sighed dramatically.

“You know I sent you thirty-two messages.”

This time he looked at her.

“I know.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“You counted?”

“No.”

“You literally replied after reading the last one.”

Arjun didn’t deny it.

She leaned forward slightly.

“So you read them.”

“Yes.”

“And still didn’t reply.”

Silence stretched between them.

The cool wind rustled the trees around the ridge.

Then he said quietly—

“I wasn’t supposed to contact anyone.”

Aisha stared at him.

Her anger faltered slightly.

“But you still read them?”

He nodded once.

She looked down at her hands.

A small, embarrassed smile tugged at her lips.

“You read all the stupid ones too?”

Arjun’s expression softened almost invisibly.

“All thirty-two.”

Her cheeks warmed.

“Great.”

“So now you know I’m emotionally unstable.”

He shook his head slightly.

“No.”

She looked up.

“Then what?”

His voice dropped lower.

“You missed me.”

Her stomach flipped.

Completely unfair.

She quickly looked away.

“Well… you were the last person I kissed before returning to civilization.”

Arjun’s jaw tightened slightly.

“You also disappeared after that kiss,” she added.

“So technically you started the ghosting trend.”

He stepped closer without realizing it.

“Did you regret it?” he asked quietly.

The question caught her off guard.

“What?”

“The kiss.”

Aisha blinked.

Suddenly very aware of how close he was standing now.

Moonlight casting soft shadows across his face.

She swallowed.

“No.”

The word slipped out before she could stop it.

Neither of them moved.

The silence between them thickened again.

Familiar.

Dangerous.

Arjun stepped closer.

Just one step.

But it erased the distance completely.

Aisha’s breath caught.

“You’re doing the staring thing again,” she whispered.

His voice came out lower than before.

“You’re standing very close.”

“You walked closer.”

He didn’t argue.

Instead he lifted one hand slowly.

His fingers brushed lightly against her cheek, pushing a loose strand of hair away.

The simple touch sent a shiver down her spine.

“You should be angry with me,” he murmured.

“I am.”

“Then why are you still here?”

Aisha looked up at him.

Their faces only inches apart now.

Her heart pounded louder.

“Because,” she said softly,

“apparently getting kidnapped makes people emotional.”

His thumb brushed her cheek lightly.

Barely there.

But it made her stomach flip again.

“Or,” he said quietly,

“maybe you just missed me more than you expected.”

Her reply came out in a whisper.

“Don’t flatter yourself, officer.”

But neither of them stepped away.

And the space between them had become far too small to breathe.