Déjà Vu

**Chapter 3: The Spark of Passion**

The fire in the hearth had burned low, its embers casting a soft, flickering light that danced across the walls of the cottage. The room was bathed in a warm, amber glow, contrasting with the cool, silvery light streaming through the large window from the full moon. Outside, the landscape of Mussoorie lay quietly under the night sky, the mountains rising like ancient sentinels, their peaks illuminated by the pale moonlight. The valley below, once vibrant with the sounds of life during the day, had now settled into a peaceful hush, broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind in the trees.

Aarushi stood by the window, her fingertips lightly tracing the cool glass as she gazed out into the night. The view was nothing short of magical—the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery sheen over the rolling hills, the stars scattered like countless diamonds across the deep, velvety expanse of the sky. In the distance, the lights of the villages flickered faintly, like tiny beacons in the sea of darkness. It was the kind of night that felt eternal, where time seemed to slow, and every moment stretched out, rich with possibility.

She felt Rudra’s presence behind her before she heard him. The quiet way he moved, his steps barely audible on the wooden floor, always sent a thrill through her. There was something about his nearness that made her feel both secure and electrified at the same time. His hands found their way to her waist, warm and firm, as he pulled her back against his chest. Aarushi let out a soft sigh, leaning into him, her body instinctively molding to his.

“I love this,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper, as if speaking any louder would break the delicate spell of the moment.

Rudra rested his chin gently on her shoulder, his breath warm against her neck. “Me too,” he replied, his voice low and husky, filled with the quiet intensity that always made her heart skip a beat. He pressed a soft kiss just below her ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

Aarushi turned slowly in his arms, her hands sliding up to cradle his face. His dark eyes searched hers, full of tenderness, but there was something else there too—an unspoken hunger, a desire that simmered beneath the surface. For a moment, they just stood there, the space between them charged with anticipation. The crackling fire, the cool moonlight, and the stillness of the night outside all seemed to recede, leaving only the two of them, suspended in this quiet, intimate bubble.

Then, without a word, Aarushi rose onto her toes and pulled him down into a kiss. It started soft, a gentle meeting of lips that spoke of affection, of comfort. But as the kiss deepened, it became something more—something urgent, passionate. The softness gave way to a hunger that neither of them could contain, as though the quiet of the hills had unlocked something wild inside them.

Rudra responded in kind, his arms tightening around her, pulling her closer as his hands roamed over the curve of her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her nightgown. Aarushi’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss, her body pressed against his, every inch of her craving more of him. There was a heat between them now, a flame that had been quietly kindling all day, and now, in the privacy of the night, it roared to life.

Their kisses grew more urgent, more frantic, as they moved together toward the bed. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t need to—their bodies communicated everything. The way his hands moved over her, the way her breath hitched in her throat, the soft moans that escaped her lips as his mouth found her neck, her collarbone—it all spoke of a desire that had been building, waiting for this moment to be unleashed.

Aarushi let out a soft gasp as Rudra’s hands slid down her sides, his touch firm but tender. She could feel the strength in his hands, the way he held her as though she were something precious, something fragile, yet the way his fingers pressed into her skin told her how much he wanted her, how much he needed this. Her own hands were just as eager, slipping beneath his shirt, feeling the hard lines of his muscles, the warmth of his skin against her palms.

They stumbled toward the bed, their movements fluid, natural, as though they had done this a thousand times before, and yet, each touch, each kiss felt new, electric. Aarushi fell back onto the bed, her hair spilling out across the pillow like a dark river, her chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. Rudra hovered over her for a moment, his gaze sweeping over her with a kind of reverence that made her heart race.

He lowered himself onto her, their bodies fitting together perfectly, and for a moment, they simply lay there, the heat of their skin mingling, the sound of their breathing filling the room. Outside, the night remained quiet, the world beyond their window slipping away as they lost themselves in each other.

Rudra’s lips found hers again, his kiss searing, his hands exploring every inch of her. Aarushi arched beneath him, her body alive with sensation, every nerve ending on fire. She had never felt so connected to him, so completely in sync, as though their bodies were speaking a language all their own, a language of passion, of love, of need.

The world outside faded further into the background—the hills, the stars, the moonlit landscape beyond the window—they all seemed distant now, mere shadows in the face of the intensity that pulsed between them. All that mattered was this moment, this fire between them, and the way they came together, again and again, in the quiet of the hills.