THE MARK

The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that lingers between two souls bound by desire and possession. After the shower, the cool water still clinging to my skin, I slipped into the black formal shirt, its crisp fabric a stark contrast to the storm brewing within. Krithi, ever the enigma, stood there in her casual t-shirt, her playful demeanor masking something darker, something more primal. Her eyes met mine, and with a smile that was both innocent and dangerous, she asked, "So, you're rich, right?" I nodded, a sly grin creeping across my face, knowing full well where this was headed.

"How many cars have you parked here in this mansion?" she pressed, her voice laced with curiosity and something else—something possessive. I chuckled softly, pulling her closer, my fingers brushing against her cheek as I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Hey, panda," I teased, my voice low, "right now, I only have one car here—a Maybach. But by this evening, all my cars will be here. You can count them then."

Her laughter was light, but there was an edge to it, a hint of something darker as we headed toward the Maybach. I opened the door for her, and she slid in, her excitement palpable, yet her eyes held a glint of something more—something possessive. I took the wheel, the engine roaring to life, and we drove off toward Harvard College, the city blurring into a haze of lights and shadows.

As we entered the campus, I saw her—Divya. A girl from my past, her presence always a reminder of something I had never wanted. She was waiting near the entrance, her eyes locking onto mine with a familiarity that made my skin crawl. Krithi's arm tightened around mine, her grip firm, almost possessive, as we walked past Divya, ignoring her entirely.

We found a place in the classroom, a space for three, and settled in. Krithi sat between me and Divya, her presence a barrier, a claim. The lectures droned on, but my attention was elsewhere. I pulled out my phone, losing myself in the virtual world of Call of Duty, until Krithi leaned over, her fingers brushing against mine as she snatched the phone away. "Can I order some stuff?" she asked, her voice soft but commanding. I nodded, unable to resist her.

As she browsed, her eyes widened at the sight of my bank accounts, the 22-digit balances a testament to the life I led. "Which one should I use?" she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. "Any of them," I replied, my voice steady, but there was a flicker of something darker in her eyes as she made the payment.

Her hand stopped mine as it hovered over her thigh, her gaze locking onto mine with a intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "I was just a little bored," I explained, my voice low, "and I thought I'd admire what's mine." Her cheeks flushed, but there was no denying the possessiveness in her eyes, the way she looked at me as if I were hers and hers alone.

When Krithi left for the restroom, Divya seized the opportunity, shifting closer to me, her presence a stark contrast to Krithi's. I greeted her, not wanting to make the situation awkward, but the tension was palpable. When Krithi returned, her face was a mask of annoyance, and I knew something was wrong. I pulled her chair closer, my hand resting on her thigh, but she looked at me with a seriousness that made me withdraw.

"What happened?" I whispered, my lips brushing against her ear. "Did someone hurt my panda?" She shook her head, her voice firm. "Don't call me panda. I'm Krithi." Her words stung, but I knew better than to push. I continued playing my game, but the air between us was heavy with unspoken words.

That night, her anger still simmering, she confronted me, her hands slapping against my cheeks, her lips crashing into mine with a ferocity that left me breathless. "You're only mine," she whispered, her voice a mix of desperation and possession. I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as she bit my shoulder, marking me as hers.

The next day, as I tried to hide the bite marks with a proper shirt, she handed me a wide-necked t-shirt, the mark clearly visible. There was a sense of pride in her eyes as we entered the college, her arm tightly wrapped around mine. When Divya approached, Krithi didn't hesitate, showing her the mark on my shoulder, a silent declaration of ownership.

"I'm only Krithi's," I said, offering her a chocolate, my voice soft but firm. She grinned, taking the chocolate, her eyes never leaving mine. "You were jealous," I realized, my voice a whisper. She nodded, her grin widening. "Yes, you're mine. Only mine."

And in that moment, as she ate the chocolate, her eyes locked onto mine, I knew that this was more than just love. It was possession, it was darkness, it was something that bound us together in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. She was mine, and I was hers, and nothing would ever change that.