Suffering Survival

‘Come here.’ Ibhaan waves his index finger as soon as I walk out of the bathroom.

His wet hair drops a trail of water on his forehead that travels down to his collarbone before disappearing in the white v-neck T.

The outline of not less than eight biscuits chiselled over the front makes me gulp nervously. He is freaking muscular.

‘He has taken a shower too. But it has been more than three hours. Does it mean he specifically took another shower before coming to me?’ I wonder. ‘How cares?’ I shrug it off as I eliminate the distance between us and stop a couple of feet away from him.

‘He could be the xerox copy of Mr. Zeus but I am Empress venom. I single dip and the whole six feet of him would tremble. Spend as many hours in the gym or on the ground! Whatever!’ I smirk internally as I raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

He mimics my expression. I wait a bit longer for him to break open. But the words never come.

Letting out a defeated sigh at his uneducated head, I finally take it