Rip indra chan

I froze mid-motion, cheeks burning so hot I thought the air might catch fire. “H-hey, seriously—don’t look!” My arms instinctively folded across me, not nearly enough to hide the sudden exposure. A sharp laugh tried to break through the panic, because ridicule is safer than letting you see how rattled I am.

The room felt smaller, the distance between us like a taut string waiting to snap. My pulse hammered against my ribs, breath catching in little stutters. I could feel your gaze, heavy, invasive, yet strangely magnetic—pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.

Every second stretched, my mind racing with conflicting urges: to shove you out… or to step forward and see what happens if I don’t. My voice trembled, but there was a spark beneath it—dangerous, curious.

“Are you… going to keep staring, or…?”