Something inside her was slowly changing.
A soft, sweet feeling was spreading through her being—like the gentle evening breeze slipping in through the window, filling the room with a warm, golden calm.
Sneha didn't know why,
But she suddenly felt like telling her mother—
"Ma, I think I really like my chemistry teacher."
*******
Midnight. In Anirban Sir's Room.
Dark clouds still loomed in the sky. Rain tapped gently against the windowpane. Anirban Sir sat in a corner of the room on his chair, the light dim. Memories—like a pendrive full of moments—spun endlessly in his mind.
His eyes were steady, but inside them, a storm raged.
That moment on the rooftop kept flashing before him— Bashundhara's soaked body, her trembling lips, the closeness, the kiss.
And with it came a question of conscience—
> "What have I done? I am a teacher… Did I cross a line?"
He closed his eyes, but the images wouldn't stop. Bashundhara had said, "If you say no, I'll die." And out of fear, he had replied, "Alright, I'm yours."
> "So did I save her? Or did I ignore my duty and do something wrong?"
He knew—he wanted to save the girl. But what happened after… was that only a sense of responsibility? Or was there a hidden desire…?
He thought deeply—
> "Did I give in to my own lust?"
Bashundhara's wild eyes, her innocent emotions—they had made him weak.
But to save a girl's life, is it right to play with feelings?
> "What if she tries something again if I say no next time?"
> "Am I really going to love her? Am I ready to sacrifice my job, my respect—everything?"
After a long pause, Anirban Sir came to a decision—this relationship was inappropriate.
He leaned back in his chair. Lightning flashed outside the window. And he whispered to himself—
> "Tomorrow morning, I must meet the headmistress. I have to tell the truth. I have to be accountable for what I've done."
The night grew deeper.
Silence filled the room, but inside Anirban Sir, a storm brewed. He lay quietly in bed, but an unknown thrill churned within—an excitement that defied the stillness. Every nerve in his body seemed ablaze—the touch of Bashundhara, the feel of her young, warm body, the droplets falling from her wet hair—all still danced vividly before his eyes.
> "I made a mistake,"
That was his first thought.
A moment with a student—on the school rooftop, in the evening—something that could change his life forever.
But slowly, through the cracks in that guilt, something else crept in.
A hidden desire.
A long-suppressed longing.
> "All my life, I've just struggled to survive… Studied hard, spent time with friends, got good results, earned degrees, taught students, chased after my career, tried to be independent…"
> "No love, no romance… not even a chance to touch someone…"
Bashundhara came to his mind. What a maddening figure she had! She stood soaked in the rain, acting mad for his attention, with a strange hunger in her eyes.
The closeness of her lips, the scent of her body, that subtle expression of love—none of this had ever happened to Anirban Sir before. No one had ever come so close.
He was good-looking, educated—students adored him, people said girls were crazy about him; even female colleagues liked him. But no one had ever truly approached him. Perhaps he had never allowed it.
But today…
Today, Bashundhara…
Her wet hair, standing at the edge of the rooftop, the bloodied wrist, the wild intensity in her eyes—it had set fire to his blood. She wasn't just a student; she was a symbol of raw desire.
"She wanted me to be hers," he whispered to himself.
> "Can I accept that? Is this right? Or have I taken the wrong path?"
Even as these questions haunted him, a strange excitement slowly took hold.
A buried yearning, never before acknowledged, now rising like a fire.
Bashundhara's soft body, the silent plea in her eyes, the memory of her touch—everything had bound Anirban Sir into a strange enchantment.
"To feel her that way was completely new," he thought.
A wave of physical desire surged through him. Time seemed to freeze—and life itself appeared caught between her wet hair and the warmth of her skin.
Fear, doubt, guilt—mixed with a cruel attraction and thrill. A deep war raged within him.
Finally, he made up his mind.
Tonight, Bashundhara wasn't alone.
Tonight, he too had a desire.
He wanted to see her again.
He wanted to touch her again.
This time, it wasn't out of obligation. This time… it was attraction.
> "Can't I just continue this relationship?"
> "Bashundhara is almost an adult. She's in class twelve. She wants this too. We're not deceiving each other."
He thought further:
"I'll tell everyone when the time is right. If needed, I'll even marry her. Since she wants this—why not let it continue? So, I won't tell the headmistress anything just yet."
—
—
—
Suddenly, the soft sound of footsteps in the corridor. Then, through the door, Anurag Sir's voice—
"What's up? Still not asleep?"
Anirban Sir jolted. He sat up on the bed, startled.
Trying to regain composure, he replied, "Actually… couldn't sleep."
Anurag Sir entered the room, walked over, and sat on the chair beside the bed. His eyes fixed on Anirban Sir's face. Then, in a serious tone, he asked:
"Why? Something happened at school? Any new updates about that scoundrel Bibhash Sir?"
Anirban Sir's heart skipped a beat. The way Anurag Sir uttered the word "scoundrel" sent a chill through him. A silent thought passed through his mind—
"Friend… if you ever find out I'm in love with a student, please don't think I'm like him…"
Anirban Sir calmly replied, "Bibhash Sir has been temporarily suspended. Rodela's parents probably won't press charges, but the female teachers have said he must face consequences."
Anurag Sir sighed deeply, "Glad to hear it. Hope that bastard gets what he deserves. But don't let it bother you too much. Now go to sleep. We've got school in the morning."
Anirban Sir nodded quietly. Anurag Sir left without saying another word.
To be continued…