"Isha..." Turja's voice was low, a raspy whisper that sent shivers down her spine as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. The narrow space between them was like the humid air before a monsoon thunderstorm in Kolkata. Her back pressed against the cool wall, her body trembling not from fear, but from the intoxicating nearness of him.  Her breath hitched as his hand rested on her jaw, his thumb grazing her bottom lip slowly, deliberately, teasing her into silence. His eyes locked with hers that made her heart race faster than it ever had before. "Shhh...," he whispered, his voice a command, full of heat. Isha's body betrayed her, leaning into his touch. She could feel his heartbeat, steady beneath her fingertips, as her hands rested against his chest. The years of buried longing, the countless moments spent watching him from afar, flooded back to the surface, overwhelming her. "I remember you," Turja murmured, his lips hovering so close to hers that she could almost taste him. His words hit her like a lightning strike, her pulse quickening. "You were always watching me... weren't you?" "Hey Dugga Ma," she thought, her mind spiraling as his lips hovered above hers. How did she end up here, heart in her throat, standing inches away from the boy she thought she'd only ever dream of touching?