The warmth of the afternoon lingered as everyone dispersed after lunch. Jai had seamlessly integrated himself into the family dynamic, his easy charm and genuine laughter resonating well with everyone. Mithra couldn't help but notice how quickly he and Raghava had bonded. They had been laughing heartily over some joke, their camaraderie so natural it felt as though they'd been friends for years.

What surprised her even more was the obvious fondness her parents had developed for Jai. Her father, Chandrashekar, who rarely praised anyone openly, had been speaking highly of him during lunch, while her mother, Sunanda, seemed thoroughly impressed by his demeanor. It was astonishing how effortlessly he seemed to win people over.

However, not everything about the scene was endearing. Mithra's eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Kavya fluttering around Jai like a moth to a flame. Every time he dodged her overly enthusiastic attempts to capture his attention, she would circle back, undeterred. Though Jai managed to stay polite and maintain a respectful distance, it irked Mithra to no end.

After everyone settled in the veranda for casual conversations, Chandrashekar finally spoke. "Jai, you must be tired from the journey. Go rest for a while. We can discuss everything in detail later."

Jai nodded graciously, and Sunanda called Raghava over to guide him to his room. "Mahendra, take Jai's luggage and make sure it's settled properly," Raghava instructed one of the household helpers.

As the men led Jai inside, the veranda cleared. Chandrashekar stayed back with a few of the village elders for more discussions, while Sunanda, Satya, and Mithra headed to the kitchen to begin preparations for dinner.

In the kitchen, the atmosphere was light as Sunanda and Satya busied themselves chopping vegetables. Mithra sat on the kitchen island, swinging her legs idly, half-listening to the conversation.

"He's achieved so much at such a young age," Sunanda remarked as she diced onions. "His parents must be so proud."

Satya nodded in agreement, slicing ginger with a practiced hand. "He's also so well-behaved. How is he not married yet?" she wondered aloud, her tone genuinely curious.

"Whoever marries him is going to be very lucky," Satya added with a dreamy sigh.

Mithra, perched on the counter with a carrot in her hand, remained silent, her mind involuntarily wandering to her earlier interactions with Jai. Despite herself, her cheeks grew warm, and she bit into the carrot to distract from her thoughts.

Satya's sharp eyes didn't miss Mithra's uncharacteristic quietness. "You're unusually quiet today," she observed, her tone teasing yet curious.

Sunanda, pausing her chopping, turned to Mithra with a small frown. "You alright, Junnu? You seemed flushed during lunch," she noted, her maternal instincts kicking in.

Mithra stiffened, the memory of Jai casually wiping his hands on her pallu flashing vividly in her mind. Why did she have to bring that up? she thought, her blush deepening. "I'm fine," Mithra replied, feigning nonchalance as she took another bite of her carrot. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Sunanda raised an eyebrow but let it slide, shaking her head as she returned to chopping.

Satya, ever the practical one, suddenly remembered something. "Amma, did you keep water in Jai's room?"

"Oh no! I completely forgot," Sunanda exclaimed, slapping her forehead lightly. She grabbed a bottle, quickly filling it at the sink. Turning to Mithra, she handed it over. "Junnu, take this to Jai's room. We forgot in all the hurry."

Mithra blinked, stammering as she tried to come up with an excuse. "Amma, I—"

But before she could finish, Kavya jumped in, her energy as irritating as ever. "Attha! Here, give it to me! I'll take it!" she offered eagerly, her wide smile almost blinding.

Satya, however, wasn't having it. "Aww, that's so sweet of you, Kavya," she said with a syrupy tone that was clearly hiding her intent. "But we'll need your help here in the kitchen. Chicken curry doesn't make itself, you know." She took the bottle from Sunanda and all but shoved it into Mithra's hands, pushing her toward the door.

"Go on, Junnu. Don't just stand there!" Satya insisted with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Mithra stared at the bottle in her hand, her heart sinking as she realized there was no escape. Muttering under her breath, she trudged toward Jai's room, every step feeling heavier than the last.

The hallway was eerily quiet as Mithra stood frozen in front of Jai's room, her heart pounding harder with each passing second. She stared at the wooden door, her nerves threatening to betray her resolve. After taking a deep breath to calm herself, she raised her trembling hand and knocked softly. The sound seemed deafening in the silence, yet no response came.

Frowning slightly, she tried again, this time knocking a little louder. Still, there was no answer. She hesitated, glancing around the corridor to see if anyone was nearby. The coast was clear. Gathering the last shreds of her courage, Mithra pressed her palm gently against the door and gave it a slight push. To her surprise, it creaked open—it wasn't locked.

With no other choice, she stepped inside, quickly shutting the door behind her. The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of running water coming from the attached bathroom. Her gaze swept across the space, landing on the neatly arranged furniture and the bed where Jai's shirt and pants lay casually tossed. Her lips parted in a sigh of relief.

"Good," she thought. "I can leave before he comes out."

She tiptoed across the room, setting the water bottle on a nearby table. Her mission was simple: get in and out without being noticed. Turning quickly on her heel, Mithra made her way toward the door. Her fingers barely grazed the doorknob when she froze.

"Running away again?"

The voice—low, rich, and unmistakably amused—sent a shiver down her spine. She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes tightly as a soft curse escaped her lips. "Shit," she murmured under her breath.

Her hand slipped from the doorknob as she turned around slowly, her eyes still glued to the floor. When she finally looked up, her breath hitched. Jai was standing just a few inches away from her, his tall frame looming over hers.

Her mind struggled to process what she was seeing. He stood there in nothing but a navy blue sleeveless vest that clung to his torso, perfectly outlining his well-defined chest and shoulders. Gray joggers hung low on his hips, revealing glimpses of the toned muscles underneath. Water droplets glistened at the tips of his hair, some trickling down his neck and disappearing into the fabric of his vest. His freshly washed face glowed in the soft light filtering through the curtains.

Mithra couldn't tell what left her more breathless—their proximity, the sheer confidence he exuded, or the mischievous smirk spreading across his face. She was too lost in her thoughts, too aware of her thundering heart, until she noticed the growing amusement in his eyes.

Snapping out of her daze, she instinctively stepped back, only to bump into the door behind her with a soft thud. The impact startled her, and she realized too late that she had cornered herself.

Jai's smirk deepened, his eyes never leaving hers as he closed the remaining distance between them. His presence was overwhelming, and her flushed cheeks betrayed the storm of emotions brewing inside her.

Slowly, he lifted his right arm, resting his hand casually on the door just beside her waist. The fabric of her saree did little to hide the exposed skin that now seemed to taunt him. His movements were deliberate, calculated, as his fingers trailed up toward the door latch.

Mithra's breathing grew shallower as Jai leaned closer, their faces now mere inches apart. She felt the soft brush of his nose against hers and his warm breath fanning her flushed cheeks. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, betraying the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her.

Jai's dark eyes flickered to her trembling lips, then back to her wide, startled eyes. His self-control was hanging by a thread. The urge to slide his hand around her waist, to pull her closer, to capture her lips with his, was almost unbearable. But he held back, his restraint fueled by something deeper—an unspoken promise to savor this moment, to let her feel the weight of his presence, the yearning he'd carried for weeks.

"There's no escape this time," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, sending a shiver down Mithra's spine.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She was caught, trapped between him and the door, unable to move, unable to think. His words were deliberate, sending another shiver coursing through her. She swallowed hard, trying to muster the courage to respond, but her voice refused to cooperate. Instead, her eyes darted away, her cheeks flaming as his smirk widened further.

Jai tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping even lower. "You've been running ever since you left, Mithra." His words carried a weight of both accusation and longing, his tone gentle yet firm. "But tell me..." His gaze softened slightly, his smirk fading into something more genuine. "Did you really think I'd let you go that easily?"

Her wide eyes snapped back to his, her lips parting in surprise. The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard, leaving her at a loss for words. 

"Move," Mithra said, her voice tight, her eyes stubbornly fixed anywhere but on him. She refused to meet his gaze, refused to let him see how much he affected her.

Jai didn't move an inch. "Look at me," he said, his tone soft but insistent.

Mithra clenched her fists at her sides, her pulse racing. "Just move—" she started, but his voice cut through hers.

"Mithra, just look at me."

This time, his hands reached out to gently hold hers, halting her attempt to push past him. The warmth of his touch sent an unwelcome shiver up her arm, and she cursed her body for betraying her. She sighed, finally lifting her eyes to his.

The smirk that spread across Jai's face was infuriatingly smug. He seemed to relish the way her cheeks were flushed, the way her wide eyes betrayed her nervousness.

"I must say," he began, his voice laced with playful amusement, "you're a pretty good kisser for a first-timer."

Mithra's eyes widened in horror, her cheeks heating further. Of all the things he could have said, why did it have to be that?

"W-what?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jai chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "You heard me, Junnu," he teased, leaning in slightly closer. "For someone who ran off right after, you sure knew what you were doing."

Mithra's embarrassment turned to frustration, and her mind raced for a retort. She straightened her posture, tilting her chin up defiantly. "Who says I'm a first-timer?" she shot back, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.

The smirk on Jai's face faltered, replaced by a flicker of surprise. He narrowed his eyes, studying her expression. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," Mithra said, her confidence growing as she saw his reaction.

For a moment, Jai was silent, his gaze locked on hers. Then, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You're bluffing," he said, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

"Am I?" Mithra raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the door.

Jai took a step closer, his eyes scanning her face. "You don't even have to admit it," he said, his tone dropping slightly, the playful edge returning. "Because I know the truth."

"And what truth is that?" Mithra asked, feigning innocence.

Jai leaned in, his face mere inches from hers, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "That I'm the only one who's ever made you feel like this."

Mithra's breath caught in her throat, and she hated how easily his words rattled her. "You're so full of yourself," she muttered, trying to push past him again.

"And you're terrible at lying," he shot back, stepping aside at the last second to let her slip out of the room.

As she hurried down the hallway, her heart racing, Jai called after her, his voice light and teasing. "Just admit it, bangaram!"

Mithra didn't turn back, but the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed her frustration.