Dakshvir stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his skin like little pearls, glistening under the soft light. His hair was wet, tousled from the shower, falling messily onto his forehead in a way that looked so effortlessly attractive, it could almost be illegal. His presence alone seemed to fill the space, radiating a kind of raw magnetism that made Tanirika’s heart skip a beat.