SilverDust:
Talking to you like this turns me on more than anything I’ve seen online.
Ankit stared at her message for several seconds.
His screen didn’t blink. His fingers hovered. Then, finally:
Monk29:
I won’t lie.
Same here.
SilverDust:
Good. Then we’re equally messed up. Or equally alive.
Undone – Part 20: Sounds You Shouldn’t Send
[Chatroom – Day 30 | Late Night, After 1:00 AM]
SilverDust:
You there?
Monk29:
Always, when it’s this hour.
Couldn’t sleep. You?
SilverDust:
Same. Brain’s loud tonight.
Monk29:
What’s playing on the loudspeaker?
SilverDust:
Regret. Guilt. Want.
You?
Monk29:
Pretty much the same playlist.
I tried to… watch something.
SilverDust:
Porn?
Monk29:
Yeah. But I couldn’t get past five minutes.
SilverDust:
Why?
Monk29:
Because my head kept replacing the actress with… someone else.
Someone I shouldn’t imagine like that.
There was a long pause.
Medha’s typing bubble appeared. Then vanished.
Appeared again. Vanished again.
Then finally:
SilverDust:
I did something weird.
Want to hear it?
Monk29:
Always.
SilverDust:
I was lying in bed tonight, lights off… headphones in.
And I started recording a voice note for you.
Monk29:
What kind?
SilverDust:
Just breathing. Just… me in that space. Wanting to feel heard.
No words. Just soft breaths.
Monk29:
And?
SilverDust:
I didn’t send it.
My finger hovered over the button for maybe two whole minutes.
Then I deleted it.
Monk29:
Why?
SilverDust:
Because once I send it… we can’t unsend it.
Monk29:
I wouldn’t have judged you.
SilverDust:
That’s exactly why it scared me.
Monk29:
I get that.
There was another pause.
Ankit stared at the screen, heart thudding. He couldn’t tell if it was guilt or desire or something darker.
Monk29:
But if you ever do record again —
don’t speak.
Just breathe.
SilverDust:
Why?
Monk29:
Because I’d listen to it on loop.
And tell myself it’s just white noise.
While my skin would know better.
Medha didn’t reply for a long time.
Finally:
SilverDust:
Sometimes, I wish we were still strangers.
Monk29:
Sometimes, I wish we’d never been.
Undone – Part 21: What If I Told You
[Chatroom – Day 32 | 12:47 AM]
SilverDust:
I’ve been thinking about last night.
Monk29:
So have I.
I’ve never wanted to hear silence that badly before.
SilverDust:
It wasn’t silence.
It was me… slowly unraveling.
I almost recorded it again.
Monk29:
Did you?
SilverDust:
No.
But I did write something.
Monk29:
Oh?
SilverDust:
A fantasy. One I’ve never told anyone.
Monk29:
You don’t owe me that.
SilverDust:
I know. But I want to.
Just… don’t read it like it’s real. It’s not.
Monk29:
Alright. I’m listening with a safe heart.
SilverDust:
Okay.
“I’m not alone in the room, but I pretend I am. I act like no one’s watching — even though I know he is. I like knowing he shouldn’t be there. That he’s silent, respectful, but not leaving. That he sees everything but still doesn’t touch. And when he finally speaks… it’s not dirty. It’s reverent.”
A long pause.
Monk29:
That’s… poetic. Bold.
SilverDust:
Too much?
Monk29:
No. Just… raw.
You want to be seen. But not taken. Not at first.
SilverDust:
Exactly.
It’s the being watched. The electricity of someone knowing what they shouldn’t.
Not even touching — just witnessing. The wrongness of it is the fuel.