The train screeched to a halt, and I stepped onto the platform, my long hair catching the breeze. It flowed down to my waist, silky and thick, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in it. This is who I am, I thought, smoothing it down with my hands. My parents had finally agreed to let me pursue higher education in the city, but their decision to send me to live with Uncle Salman had left me feeling uneasy. Uncle Salman was 48, a widower for the past three years, and though I had only met him a handful of times, he always seemed… intense. His gaze lingered a little too long, his questions a little too probing. But my parents insisted he was the best option—someone who could “keep an eye on me” while I studied. I adjusted the strap of my bag and looked around, my heart pounding. The city was overwhelming, its noise and chaos a stark contrast to the quiet village I had grown up in. But beneath the anxiety, there was a spark of excitement. This is my chance, I thought. My chance to explore who I really am.“Nishant!” a deep voice called out, and I turned to see Uncle Salman approaching. He was tall, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed, and his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach flutter. “Welcome to the city.”“Thank you, Uncle,” I said softly, avoiding his gaze. I could feel his eyes scanning me, taking in my appearance. My long hair, my delicate features. Does he see the girl inside me? I wondered. He reached out and took my bag, his fingers brushing against mine. “You’ve grown since I last saw you,” he remarked, his voice low. “And your hair… it’s beautiful.”I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. The car ride to his apartment was quiet, the tension between us palpable. I sat in the passenger seat, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, while Uncle Salman focused on the road. But every now and then, I could feel his eyes on me, studying me. “You must be tired,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “We’ll get you settled in, and then we can talk.”I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The thought of being alone with him in his apartment sent a shiver down my spine. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely.When we arrived, he led me up to the third floor and unlocked the door to his apartment. It was spacious, with large windows that let in the afternoon light. But it felt… hollow. Lonely. “Your room is here,” Uncle Salman said, gesturing to a door down the hall. “I’ll let you get settled. Come out when you’re ready.”I nodded and stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. It was simple but comfortable, with a bed, a desk, and a closet. I set my bag down and took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I’m here now, I told myself. This is my chance.But as I unpacked my things, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The way Uncle Salman had looked at me, the way his voice had lingered on my hair—it felt… strange. Intimate, almost. When I finally emerged from the room, I found him in the kitchen, preparing tea. He looked up and smiled, but there was something in his eyes that made me uneasy. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the table. “I’ll bring the tea.”I sat down, my hands trembling slightly as I waited. He returned with two cups and set one down in front of me before taking a seat across from me. “So,” he began, his gaze steady. “Tell me about your plans for the city.”I hesitated, unsure of how much to share. “I… I want to study,” I said finally. “And explore. I’ve always felt… different, and I think the city will give me the chance to figure out who I really am.”Uncle Salman nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Different how?” he asked, his voice soft. I looked down at my hands, my cheeks burning. “I… I don’t feel like a boy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve always felt like a girl inside.”There was a long silence, and I dared to look up at him. His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and intense. “I see,” he said finally, his voice low. “And do you think the city will help you… embrace that?”I nodded, my heart pounding. “Yes. I hope so.”He reached across the table, his fingers brushing against mine. “You’re brave, Nishant,” he said, his voice warm. “And you’re not alone. I’ll support you, whatever you need.”His touch sent a jolt through me, and I pulled my hand away, my cheeks flushing. “Thank you, Uncle,” I murmured. The rest of the evening passed in a blur. We ate dinner together, and he asked me more about my plans, my hopes, my fears. He was attentive, almost too much so, and every time his gaze lingered on me, I felt a strange mix of discomfort and… something else. Something I couldn’t quite name. When it was time for bed, he walked me to my room and paused at the door. “Goodnight, Nishant,” he said, his voice soft. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”“Goodnight, Uncle,” I replied, my voice trembling slightly. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching mine, before finally turning and walking away. I closed the door behind him and leaned against it, my heart racing. What did I just get myself into?

I stepped off the train and was greeted by Uncle Salman, who I felt uneasy around due to his intense gaze and probing questions. He drove me to his apartment, which felt lonely and hollow, and I settled into my room. During dinner, I admitted to Uncle Salman that I feel like a girl inside, and he responded with support, but his touch and lingering gaze made me uncomfortable.

The train screeched to a halt, and I stepped onto the platform, my long hair catching the breeze. It flowed down to my waist, silky and thick, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in it. _This is who I am_, I thought, smoothing it down with my hands. My parents had finally agreed to let me pursue higher education in the city, but their decision to send me to live with Uncle Salman had left me feeling uneasy. 

Uncle Salman was 48, a widower for the past three years, and though I had only met him a handful of times, he always seemed… intense. His gaze lingered a little too long, his questions a little too probing. But my parents insisted he was the best option—someone who could “keep an eye on me” while I studied. 

I adjusted the strap of my bag and looked around, my heart pounding. The city was overwhelming, its noise and chaos a stark contrast to the quiet village I had grown up in. But beneath the anxiety, there was a spark of excitement. _This is my chance_, I thought. _My chance to explore who I really am._

“Nishant!” a deep voice called out, and I turned to see Uncle Salman approaching. He was tall, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed, and his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach flutter. “Welcome to the city.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” I said softly, avoiding his gaze. I could feel his eyes scanning me, taking in my appearance. My long hair, my delicate features. _Does he see the girl inside me?_ I wondered. 

He reached out and took my bag, his fingers brushing against mine. “You’ve grown since I last saw you,” he remarked, his voice low. “And your hair… it’s beautiful.”

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. 

The car ride to his apartment was quiet, the tension between us palpable. I sat in the passenger seat, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, while Uncle Salman focused on the road. But every now and then, I could feel his eyes on me, studying me. 

“You must be tired,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “We’ll get you settled in, and then we can talk.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The thought of being alone with him in his apartment sent a shiver down my spine. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely.

When we arrived, he led me up to the third floor and unlocked the door to his apartment. It was spacious, with large windows that let in the afternoon light. But it felt… hollow. Lonely. 

“Your room is here,” Uncle Salman said, gesturing to a door down the hall. “I’ll let you get settled. Come out when you’re ready.”

I nodded and stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. It was simple but comfortable, with a bed, a desk, and a closet. I set my bag down and took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. 

_I’m here now_, I told myself. _This is my chance._

But as I unpacked my things, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The way Uncle Salman had looked at me, the way his voice had lingered on my hair—it felt… strange. Intimate, almost. 

When I finally emerged from the room, I found him in the kitchen, preparing tea. He looked up and smiled, but there was something in his eyes that made me uneasy. 

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the table. “I’ll bring the tea.”

I sat down, my hands trembling slightly as I waited. He returned with two cups and set one down in front of me before taking a seat across from me. 

“So,” he began, his gaze steady. “Tell me about your plans for the city.”

I hesitated, unsure of how much to share. “I… I want to study,” I said finally. “And explore. I’ve always felt… different, and I think the city will give me the chance to figure out who I really am.”

Uncle Salman nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Different how?” he asked, his voice soft. 

I looked down at my hands, my cheeks burning. “I… I don’t feel like a boy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve always felt like a girl inside.”

There was a long silence, and I dared to look up at him. His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and intense. 

“I see,” he said finally, his voice low. “And do you think the city will help you… embrace that?”

I nodded, my heart pounding. “Yes. I hope so.”

He reached across the table, his fingers brushing against mine. “You’re brave, Nishant,” he said, his voice warm. “And you’re not alone. I’ll support you, whatever you need.”

His touch sent a jolt through me, and I pulled my hand away, my cheeks flushing. “Thank you, Uncle,” I murmured. 

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. We ate dinner together, and he asked me more about my plans, my hopes, my fears. He was attentive, almost too much so, and every time his gaze lingered on me, I felt a strange mix of discomfort and… something else. Something I couldn’t quite name. 

When it was time for bed, he walked me to my room and paused at the door. “Goodnight, Nishant,” he said, his voice soft. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Goodnight, Uncle,” I replied, my voice trembling slightly. 

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching mine, before finally turning and walking away. I closed the door behind him and leaned against it, my heart racing. 

_What did I just get myself into?_

Naazneen wardrob make me Nishant to nazz

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