The common area outside the boys' hostel was usually quiet at this hour. The first-year classes ended early and though the way to their rooms went through here, the freshers-wise enough to know the hierarchy-rarely lingered around this area. They went straight to their rooms, terrified of accidentally crossing paths with a senior. The few upper years who usually loitered here after their classes hadn't arrived yet either.
But today, there was one very specific occupant.
Aarav sat there like a storm bottled up in human form, his ankle propped up awkwardly on the adjoining chair. The dull throbbing had settled into a constant, bitter pulse-a steady reminder of his humiliation. He'd spent the entire afternoon oscillating between icing it and plotting. The ankle wasn't broken, thankfully, but twisted bad enough that walking was a pain. So, he'd skipped the rest of the day's lectures, though "skipping" felt like too mild a word for his current mood.
Karan, ever the loyal accomplice to his dramatics, had helped him hobble till here before heading off to their last class. He'd muttered something about Aarav's "villain arc awakening" as he left, but Aarav had only given him a dark look in response. Because this wasn't just stewing. This was strategy.
He was seated here for a reason. Directly storming the first-year rooms would've been stupid-he didn't even know the giant's name, room number, or literally anything about him. No, this wasn't the confrontation. This was the reconnaissance phase. Gather intel, as any sensible man of vengeance would.
He leaned back against the cold metal of the chair-one of those uncomfortable, hospital-like seats bolted together in a row-and winced as his ankle throbbed. It wasn't the most ideal setup for a twisted joint, but sacrifices had to be made for justice.
Soon enough, the first-years began trickling in. The instant they spotted a senior in their sacred safe zone, panic swept through them like a gust of wind. Heads lowered, voices mumbled frantic greetings of "Good evening, sir," before they disappeared down the hallway. Aarav gave a silent nod of approval to each terrified fresher. Good. At least some of them still respected the unspoken order of this place. The world wasn't entirely lawless.
He waited, eyes scanning the passing figures like a predator waiting for the right prey. He didn't need the fresher-yet. He just needed a fresher. Preferably one small, pliable, and unburdened by a crowd. Gossip spreads too quickly in herds.
And then, he saw him.
A boy with glasses, a nervous hunch to his shoulders, and the aura of someone who apologized when bumped into by furniture. Perfect.
"You," Aarav called out, his voice sharp and deliberate.
The boy-Anuj-froze mid-step, like a rabbit caught in headlights.
"M-me?" he squeaked, eyes wide.
"Yes, you." Aarav's lips curved into a smile that wasn't unkind, but definitely not comforting either. "You're a first year, I take it?"
Anuj swallowed audibly. His thoughts were spiraling-had he done something wrong? Was this about attendance? Was this the beginning of ragging? Panic crawled down his spine.
He approached hesitantly, chin tucked down so far it nearly touched his chest. "Y-yes, sir," he stammered. "Did I-did I do something?"
Even Aarav, through his simmering irritation, couldn't ignore the sheer terror in the boy's eyes. He wasn't cruel, not to the undeserving. The poor thing was practically vibrating with fear. Aarav sighed softly, some of the frost leaving his tone.
"No. You didn't do anything wrong," he said, voice lowering just a notch. "Don't worry."
The relief that flooded Anuj's expression was instantaneous-and, to Aarav's credit, not unnoticed. Good. The hierarchy remained intact, but there was no need for unnecessary cruelty.
"I'm looking for someone from your batch," Aarav began, the warmth instantly vanishing as the topic shifted to his sworn nemesis. "Tall. Unnaturally tall. A giant, basically. Light brown curls-styled. Against the fresher's code," he added sharply.
That code, of course, wasn't officially in any handbook. It was one of those senior-enforced customs-first-year boys were supposed to keep their hair short. Clean, simple, and regulation-safe. Not with carefully styled curls like some shampoo commercial model.
Anuj blinked nervously. Aarav continued, his tone growing more cutting with every word.
"He has a... a face." Aarav paused, visibly struggling. Describing the giant's features without sounding like he was complimenting him was proving...difficult. "He looks...like an egg," he declared finally, with all the confidence of a man who'd decided to commit to the bit.
Anuj blinked. "An...egg?"
Aarav's eye twitched. As much as he would like to cling to his petty insult, some sacrifices have to be made for accuracy. "Forget the egg."
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his temple, his irritation bleeding into reluctant honesty as he tried to think of the least flattering way to describe the giant. "Fine. He looks like a golden retriever that learned to walk on its hind legs. Light hair, light skin, built like a brick wall. And his eyes-" Aarav stopped.
He remembered them far too clearly. Hazel green, soft and bright, catching light in that annoyingly charming way. Like sunlight hitting polished glass. But that was too poetic for someone like him.
He scowled. "The colour of an unkempt lawn," he finished firmly, "the kind that's been walked on by muddy boots and probably peed on by stay dogs."
There. Fixed.
Anuj's soul left his body for a moment. He knew exactly who Aarav was talking about. That description-minus the petty creative insults-fit only one person. Nikhil. Of course it was Nikhil. His roommate had a death wish and the social awareness of a hammer.
He forced his face into neutrality, even as panic simmered in his gut. "I-I don't know who that could be, sir," he lied weakly.
But Aarav wasn't paying attention anymore. He was too busy mentally fine-tuning his vendetta.
"Find me his name," Aarav said finally, voice clipped with authority. "Meet me here tomorrow at 7:50 sharp with the details. You may go now."
Anuj didn't need to be told twice. The second the words left Aarav's mouth, he turned and speed-walked away like his life depended on it. Which, honestly, it probably did.
As his footsteps faded, Aarav leaned back in his chair, ankle throbbing in rhythm with his pulse. The ache was sharp, but the petty satisfaction dulled it a little.
Somewhere between plotting and pouting, he let out a quiet sigh. "Unkempt lawn," he muttered under his breath, as if trying to convince himself. "Not hazel. Definitely not hazel."
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AN: y'all i got to know today APPARENTLY my college provides free consultation with psychologists and psychiatrists in our department of psychiatry. On Wednesdays. Why is the most diabolical and simulatenously the sweetest thing ever 😭. It's like 'look, we're taking an exorbitant tution and it's med school, we're going to fuck up your mental state but...free therapy 🥺?' (also why is our principal kinda cute like I'm straight but why am I always have crushes on older women??? She's smol 🥺 like when she entered i did NOT think she's the principal (she looks like she's in her late 20s fr. Drop the skincare routine ma'am).
( Anyways, ik this story isn't getting much or more like any views at all but it's still smth i care about to write and I'm glad all of you who are reading are here ❤️)