AU - Law firm romance. Armaan is 35, partner at the firm while Abhira is 29, senior associate.
Forewarning, I’m not much aware of how law firms work really, especially the ones that deal with corporate, merger and acquisitions. All of the below is whatever I’ve gathered from Google. Also excuse me for the hype that I’ve given to the Poddar firm lol.
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The gleaming glass doors of the Poddar & Partners swung open and Abhira was greeted by the cool rush of air conditioning and the hum of busy voices. She adjusted her blazer, radiating confidence. As one of the most promising senior associates in her previous firm, she had been headhunted by the Poddar family’s prestigious law firm for her sharp mind and unrelenting work ethic to work for the Armaan Poddar’s team.
Abhira’s heels clicked against the polished floor as she approached the reception desk, her heart steady despite the monumental nature of the day. The receptionist was a composed woman in her early thirties with a crisp navy-blue blazer and a welcoming smile who looked up from her monitor.
“Good morning, ma’am. How may I assist you?”
"Abhira Sharma, senior associate.” she replied, her voice calm, betraying none of the anticipation bubbling within her.
The receptionist’s smile widened slightly. “Ah, yes. Welcome to Poddar & Partners, Ms. Sharma. Let me inform the team you’ve arrived.” She picked up the phone, speaking briefly in hushed tones.
Abhira glanced around the lobby as she waited, taking in the subtle luxury. The furniture was a mix of modern and timeless—plush leather chairs paired with glass-topped tables—and a curated selection of law journals sat neatly on a side table. The entire space spoke of excellence without being ostentatious, a hallmark of the Poddar legacy.
“You can head to the 10th floor,” the receptionist said, interrupting her observations. “Take the elevators to your left. The conference hall will be directly ahead when you exit. Best of luck.”
“Thank you,” Abhira replied, offering a polite smile before turning toward the elevators.
As the elevator doors slid shut with a soft hum, sealing her in its mirrored interior, Abhira took a moment to steady herself. The silence inside the cabin contrasted sharply with the bustling energy of the office lobby she had just left behind. She inhaled deeply, her reflection staring back at her with a composed exterior that masked the storm of anticipation beneath. This was it—the start of a new chapter in her career.
The opportunity to join Poddar & Partners, one of the most prestigious law firms in the country, wasn’t something that came to just anyone. It was a recognition of her achievements and her ability to deliver results under pressure. Her reputation as a sharp legal strategist and a relentless worker had preceded her, earning her this invitation. But beyond the excitement, she understood the weight of what lay ahead. Joining Poddar & Partners was a chance to solidify her standing among the elite legal minds in the nation, a place she had dreamed of claiming since her first day in law school.
Though she spent years navigating the same professional circles, she never had the chance to meet Armaan Poddar. Despite the firm’s reputation and its considerable social capital, Armaan himself was somewhat of an enigma. He avoided the spotlight outside the courtroom, rarely attending the gala dinners, networking events, or awards ceremonies where his peers congregated.
In contrast, it was his younger brother, Rohit Poddar, with his easy charm and penchant for socializing, who was the face of the family and the firm at these gatherings. But for all his charm, Rohit lacked the gravitas of his elder brother. Abhira had crossed paths with Rohit on a few occasions, finding his charisma disarming but ultimately hollow. She remembered once overhearing him wax lyrical about strategy and diligence, only to later discover that he’d bungled a relatively straightforward case due to poor preparation. She had scrunched her nose distastefully at the memory, shaking her head.
She caught herself before her thoughts meandered further, chiding herself for getting distracted. Focus, she told herself, taking a deep breath as the elevator slowed to a halt, the soft chime signalling her arrival at the tenth floor.
The doors slid open to reveal a sleek, minimalist corridor. At the end, a set of double doors marked the entrance to the conference hall. The faint murmur of voices reached her ears, growing clearer as she approached. She straightened her blazer and squared her shoulders, pushing open the door and stepping into the room. This was it!
The conference hall was as impressive as the rest of the firm, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. A long glass table dominated the room, surrounded by high-backed chairs. The team was already gathering, voices low as they discussed the upcoming meeting. She made her way towards an empty seat and sat down, placing her briefcase neatly beside her chair and setting her tablet on the table. She glanced around the room, noting the other team members. A few faces were familiar from previous interactions or their work together in the industry, but there was a sharp sense of professionalism in the air. No one was here to make small talk.
The murmurs grew quieter as the clock on the wall ticked toward the start of the meeting.
And then, the door opened once again. The room fell into a hush, all eyes turned towards the entrance.
Armaan Poddar entered like he owned the place—which, in a way, he did. Tall, broad-shouldered, and immaculately dressed in a tailored navy suit, he exuded confidence with every step. His sharp jawline and piercing eyes had half the room holding their breath. He scanned the room, nodding to familiar faces, until his gaze landed on her, sitting at the far end.
"You must be the new senior associate," he said, his tone clipped but polite, cutting through the silence of the room.
"Abhira Sharma," she replied, standing to shake his hand.
His hand was warm, strong, and his grip matched hers in its firmness. “I’ve heard good things.”
“Thank you.”
There was something calculating in his gaze, as if he was trying to read her, to measure her worth in these few seconds, as though deciding whether or not to say more. Then, with a brief nod, he moved past her and toward his seat at the head of the table.
The meeting began without further fanfare, and Abhira quickly understood why Armaan commanded such respect. His words were precise, measured, often revealing the nuances others have missed. Everyone in the room seemed to hang on to his every word.
Abhira found herself both impressed and captivated by her new boss.
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Over the next few weeks, Abhira quickly carved a space in the firm. Her sharp intellect was matched by her confidence, which wasn’t arrogance but deep seated belief in her own abilities. Her insights were precise, and she always, always came prepared to the meetings with detailed analyses and solid evidence to support her points.
Oh, and the way she went toe-to-toe with Armaan during the team discussions became the sensational topic of the office. The office buzzed with whispers after each meeting. Colleagues would exchange knowing looks, impressed with how Abhira had held her ground and, at times, even made Armaan reconsider his perspective. It was rare to see Armaan so visibly thrown off balance. He was always in control, and yet, in those moments, she made him appear less invincible. That alone made her a subject of office conversation.
"How do you do it?" her colleague Rhea whispered one day after a particularly heated discussion.
"Do what?" Abhira asked, not looking up from her notes.
"Stand up to Armaan Poddar like that. He’s… intimidating."
Abhira shrugged. "He’s just another lawyer. A smart one, sure, but that doesn’t mean he’s always right.”
What she didn’t admit, even to herself, was how much she enjoyed their clashes. Every argument, every quip, felt like a challenge—a game only they understood. And the way his eyes would light up when she made a point he hadn’t considered… it sent a thrill through her she couldn’t quite explain. She didn’t seek his approval—she didn’t need it—but there was something undeniably satisfying about earning it anyway.
As much as he tried, Armaan couldn’t ignore the way her presence affected him. Abhira Sharma was unlike anyone he’d ever worked with. She was brilliant, yes, but it was more than that. There was a fire in her eyes when she debated with him, a spark that only grew brighter the longer the discussion went on. She was unflinching, bold, and maddeningly accurate in her analyses. And the way she’d bite her lower lip when in deep thought—it was a small, almost unconscious habit, but it was enough to throw his train of thought completely off track.
The worst—or maybe the best—part was that she had a way of making him second-guess himself. Him. Armaan Poddar, who was always sure, suddenly found himself wondering if his arguments were airtight.
It annoyed him. It fascinated him.
And as much as he tried to resist the pull of whatever it was between them, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
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It started with the small things.
Abhira first noticed it in the way Armaan’s gaze lingered a moment too long during meetings, his eyes softening when they landed on her. She told herself it was nothing—that he probably looked at everyone like that. But then there were the fleeting touches: a hand brushing hers when passing files, his fingers grazing her arm when he leaned over to point something out on her laptop. Each time her heart raced but she refused to acknowledge what it might mean.
For Armaan, it was the way her laughter lit up the room, even when it wasn’t directed at him. He began to crave her presence, finding excuses to pull her into conversations, to keep her in his orbit. Her wit challenged him, her kindness humbled him, and her smile? It was downright dangerous.
One evening, as they worked late in his cabin, the electricity flickered, plunging them into semi-darkness. The golden glow of his desk lamp cast shadows across her face, and for a fleeting moment, Armaan forgot about the documents in front of him. He was too busy memorizing the way the light danced in her eyes, the way her lips curved slightly as she focused.
“Armaan?” she asked, breaking him from his reverie. “Are you even listening?”
He blinked, realizing he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “Sorry, what?”
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed under his intense gaze. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out myself.”
------
The office was abuzz with celebration. The team Abhira led had pulled off a massive win, securing the airline’s contract for the firm for the next decade—a coup that would solidify their position as a legal powerhouse further. Balloons adorned the corners of the expansive event space, and a banner reading "Congratulations, Team!" hung above the bar. The music was lively, laughter echoed across the room, and the clinking of glasses punctuated every burst of conversation.
Abhira looked radiant in the sapphire blue saree that shimmered in the light. Her hair cascaded over one shoulder, and her understated jewelry glinted with each movement. She mingled effortlessly, congratulating her team and deflecting their attempts to place her on a pedestal. “It’s all of us,” she kept saying, raising her glass to toast them. “Each one of you made this happen.”
Still, as she sipped her mocktail and exchanged pleasantries, Abhira’s gaze occasionally drifted toward the entrance. She knew Armaan didn’t attend parties. It was almost a rule—an unspoken one that everyone had accepted. She had almost convinced herself to stop hoping for the impossible—to not expect him to show up. But as the evening wore on, she couldn’t help but wonder: What if tonight was the night?
And then, as if her thoughts had conjured him, the room fell silent. Conversations paused, heads turned, and whispers started. “Armaan’s here?” and “He never attends these things!” But her attention was fixed solely on him. He nodded to a few colleagues, but his eyes searched for, and found, her.
“Quite the celebration,” he said when he reached her, his voice low enough to make the moment feel private despite the crowd.
She smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s a big win. The team worked hard. They deserve it.”
“Indeed, they do. And so do you.” His gaze held hers for a moment longer than necessary before he added, “Do you mind?”
He gestured toward the balcony area.
Abhira found herself nodding, walking alongside him to the quieter area. As they stepped outside into the cool evening air, the city’s lights twinkled below them, offering a peaceful contrast to the energy of the celebration inside. They moved to a secluded corner, where the sounds of the party were muffled and the privacy allowed them a moment to speak freely.
Armaan leaned against the railing, crossing his arms. “You’ve done something remarkable tonight, Abhira,” he said, his voice low but filled with sincerity. “You led the team to a win that no one thought was possible.”
She smiled, shaking her head slightly. “It wasn’t just me. The team—”
“Abhira,” he interrupted, his tone playful but firm. “Just say ‘thank you.’”
She let out a soft laugh, her nerves giving way to a sense of warmth. “Thank you.”
The moment stretched between them, comfortable in its quiet. Abhira turned back towards the door when someone called her from inside. She glanced at him, hesitant to leave him alone.
“Go,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “You have a party to enjoy.”
“And you?”
Armaan raised an eyebrow. “You think I belong in there with the rest of them?”
She nodded enthusiastically, “please Armaan, it’ll mean a lot to the team. To me.”
Finally, he sighed, an exaggerated gesture of surrender. "Fine. I’ll make an appearance. But don’t expect me to stay long."
------
The storm raged outside, thunder crashing in the distance and heavy rain pelting the windows in rhythmic fury. The office had quietened as most employees left, eager to head home before the storm turned vicious. Abhira stood by the window, her back to the room, watching the sheets of rainfall in blur. She turned around, feeling the faint click of the door being locked, finding Armaan in her cabin.
Armaan.
Ever since she discovered that she might be harbouring feelings for her, she had tried to keep her distance from him. She no longer argued with him as she once had, each time he pushed her boundaries, she pulled back. She buried herself in work, focusing on every task with single-minded determination, anything to avoid the pull that seemed to draw them together whenever they were in the same room.
She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze on her. “What are you doing here, Armaan?”
“You’re doing that a lot these days,” he stated.
“Do what?” She asked, keeping her tone even, though her pulse quickened.
“Avoiding me.”
Abhira frowned, her defenses rising. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” he countered, his voice firm but not unkind. He crossed his arms, his eyes never leaving hers. “Every time there’s a moment—every time we get too close—you pull away.” He took a step forward, his expression searching hers. “Why, Abhira? What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” she said, her voice a little too sharp. “This is work, Armaan. That’s all it is. We’re colleagues. Nothing more.”
The words tasted bitter even as they left her lips, and judging by the way Armaan’s jaw tightened, he wasn’t buying it either.
“Colleagues,” he repeated slowly, in disbelief, “is that what we are?”
“Yes,” she shot back, forcing the word out despite the lump forming in her throat. “That’s all we’ve ever been.”
“Then why does it feel like something more?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “Why does it feel like every time I’m near you, there’s something pulling us together? And don’t tell me it’s just me, because we both know that’s not true.”
Her breath hitched at his words, and she stepped back, trying to distance herself physically and emotionally. “You’re reading too much into this.”
“No,” he said, his tone softening,“I know what I feel. And I know you feel it too.”
Abhira felt a rush of heat rise to her face, and she quickly lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes any longer. He was too close now—too close for comfort. The air between them felt charged, as if every breath they took was pulling them further into something they couldn’t control.
“You’re wrong,” she whispered, but even as the words left her lips, she knew they weren’t true. Her heart was betraying her, thudding loudly in her chest, and her mind was swirling with everything she had been trying so desperately to avoid.
Armaan reached out, his hand gently lifting her chin so that her eyes met his. His touch was warm, his fingers lingering for a moment too long before he withdrew. “I’m not wrong,” he said, “I see you. I see the way you avoid me, the way you shut me out. But I also see the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. The way your eyes linger just a little too long.”
“Armaan,” she said, her voice trembling now, the words a desperate plea for him to stop, to leave her in peace. But he didn’t.
“Abhira,” he said her name like a promise,“I’m not going anywhere. I want to know what’s going on inside that head of yours.”
For a long moment, they stood there, neither of them speaking, the storm outside the only sound in the room. She took a shaky breath, her resolve crumbling. She had never been good at hiding what she felt, and standing here, with him so close, she realized she couldn’t keep pretending anymore. “I’m not afraid of you,” she said quietly, the truth slipping out before she could stop it. “I’m afraid of what this could mean. Of what I could lose.”
Armaan’s expression softened, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. “You don’t have to lose anything, Abhira. I’m not going anywhere. But I can’t stand here and pretend like I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
Her heart raced as she stared up at him, unable to find the words to respond.
He leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. But she didn’t.
The space between them disappeared, and when his lips met hers, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The kiss started soft, unhurried, as if they were both testing the waters,wondering if this was what they’d been holding back for so long.
But restraint was fleeting, melting away as the kiss deepened. It became bolder, more urgent, driven by a need they could no longer suppress. There was no hesitation now, no second-guessing. Their mouths met with more intensity, more need, as if they were both trying to pour everything they couldn’t say into this one, electrifying moment.
It was intoxicating, like a force neither of them could resist, and for once, neither of them tried.
Armaan groaned, pushing her more to the glass window. His hands explored her waist, her back, her hair, as if he couldn’t get enough. Her blazer slipped from her shoulders, and her fingers found their way into his hair, tugging at them gently.
When they finally broke apart for air, their foreheads rested against each other, both of them panting, their bodies still pressed close. "Armaan…" she whispered, her voice shaky.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, “You don’t have to push me away. We don’t have to fight this anymore.”
------
The crisp, wintery breeze of Mussoorie danced through the open window, weaving its way into their cosy bedroom. Abhira stirred at the subtle chill and subconsciously moved closer to her personal source of warmth - her husband. Her fingers brushed the empty space beside her, her brows knitting together in confusion as she reached out once more, the realisation of his absence hitting her.
She blinked slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, a soft pout forming on her lips. Her tousled hair framed her face in a messy halo, and she sighed, groggily pulling herself up. The soft white sheets slipped off her body as she pushed them aside, her bare feet brushing the cool wooden floor. It took a moment for her to fully wake, but when she did, a small smile tugged at her lips.
This place was where she had spent much of her childhood. The place that held memories of laughter, love, and her mother’s presence. Now, it was where she had brought Armaan, the man who had been with her through thick and thin, the one who had kissed her on that stormy night three years ago and made every day feel like a new adventure. They had dated for three years, and now here they were, finally married, ready to spend the rest of their lives together.
Her eyes wandered around the room for a moment before finally settling at the balcony to where he stood. Her feet carried her toward him instinctively, his black shirt framing her figure like a kurta that reached a few inches above her knee.
Unable to resist, she stepped forward, her bare feet making no sound as she approached. As if sensing her presence, Armaan turned just in time to see her standing there. His eyes softened, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. She reached him, her fingers trailing along his back before gently sliding over his shoulder to touch his jaw.
“I missed you,” she whispered, as her fingers traced the roughness of his stubble.
“I was gone for barely ten minutes.” He teased lightly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You can’t be that starved for my company already.”
"You’ll still be punished for leaving your loving wife alone on the bed just on the second day of your honeymoon," Abhira teased, a playful gleam lighting up her eyes. She stood on tiptoe, leaning in just enough so that their faces were mere inches apart, her voice dropping lower, daring him. "You know what they say about making up for lost time..."
He smirked, leaning closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Oh, I’m very familiar with what they say about making up for lost time, love.” His voice was a hushed, tantalizing whisper, full of intent, “even I think I’ve been away too long.”
Abhira threw her head back in a giggle as she found herself suspended in the warmth of his embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck while he lowered her onto the inviting bed to indeed make up for the lost time.
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