Backless

The Business class dragged on longer than usual.

Aria was trying her best to copy notes, doodling tiny flowers at the edge of her notebook when she got bored. Meanwhile, Lorenzo sat beside her — unmoving, unreadable, but alert in a way no one else noticed.

He didn’t take notes.

He never did.

Yet his gaze drifted to her again and again.

To her tiny hands.

To her swinging legs.

To the delicate string tied at the back of her peach kurti.

Backless.

Of course.

She had no idea what she did to people around her.

Especially him.

The class finally ended, and everyone rushed out. Aria stood up, stretching her arms, the movement making the back string of her kurti pull slightly—

And then it happened.

The knot loosened.

It didn’t fall open completely, but it dipped dangerously low.

Her entire upper back exposed more than she realized.

One more tug… and it would come undone entirely.

The boys in class noticed first.

Two guys near the door froze mid-step.

One whispered, “Holy— her dress—”

Another one muttered, “Should we… tell her? Or—”

But none of them moved.

Because Lorenzo was still sitting there.

His eyes sharpened the moment he saw the string slipping.

His jaw locked so tight a vein appeared near his temple.

Aria, oblivious, bent to pick her pen from the floor.

The string slid further.

Her soft skin glowed under the classroom lights — far too exposed.

Lorenzo stood instantly.

Not with panic.

Not with embarrassment.

But with rage.

A dark, territorial, possessive rage.

“Aria,” he said, voice lower than usual.

She looked up, smiling.

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

She blinked. “Why?”

He didn’t answer.

He simply stepped closer, towering over her tiny frame, blocking everyone else’s view with his body.

Confused, she moved toward him.

The moment she was close enough, Lorenzo’s large hand closed around her wrist — gently, but firmly enough that she felt she should not pull away.

“What happened?” she whispered, cheeks heating at the sudden closeness.

He leaned down, his breath brushing her ear.

“Your back.”

She stiffened.

“My… back?”

His fingers hovered inches above her skin but didn’t touch yet.

“The string is coming undone,” he muttered.

“And the idiots behind you noticed.”

Aria gasped, turning slightly — and Lorenzo grabbed her shoulder immediately to stop her.

“Don’t.”

His voice was sharp.

“You’ll loosen it more.”

She froze, not daring to move.

And for a few intense seconds, they just stood there.

Her tiny frame trembling.

His massive form blocking her like a shield.

“Turn around,” he said quietly.

Aria hesitated. “But—”

“Aria.” His voice softened just a fraction. “Please.”

She turned around slowly, heart pounding.

Her entire back was exposed now, vulnerable, bare to the cold air — and only inches from Lorenzo’s chest.

He swallowed once.

Then, finally, his fingers touched the string.

His knuckles brushed her warm skin, and she sucked in a breath.

Lorenzo froze — not because he was shy.

But because the contact felt… electric.

He tied the first knot carefully, fingers steady even though something wild burned behind his eyes.

He tied the second knot tighter.

Then a third.

Too possessive.

Too protective.

He didn’t care.

No one would see what he just saw.

Ever.

When he finished, he leaned down and murmured near her ear:

“Stop wearing things that can fall open… unless I’m around.”

Aria’s face flushed bright pink.

She spun around, eyes wide.

“I—I didn’t know— I usually tie it properly—”

“I know,” he cut her off gently.

“That’s why I’m telling you.”

She swallowed.

“T-Thank you, Lorenzo.”

He didn’t say “you’re welcome.”

He only stared at her for a long, unreadable moment.

Then he said softly, almost too softly for anyone else to hear—

“I’ll always fix it for you.”

And walked out of the classroom before she could breathe again.

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