Sameera's POV
The days leading up to the final preparations had been a mix of chaos, coffee, and unending WhatsApp messages. My phone had been buzzing non stop with the group that we created for the event. Like who's-bringing-what and who's-already-annoyed. Between last-minute assignment deadlines, internal tests, and coordinating with the MBA newbies (who acted like they were organizing the Oscars), I was slowly losing my grip on sanity.
It wasn't all bad though. We had laughed. A lot. Even the stress became bearable when surrounded by friends like Sneha's dramatic sighs, Atharva's one-liners, and Sanskruti's ridiculously detailed checklists. There was a certain energy in the air.
But then... today happened.
I should've known better than to trust a stupid wobbly ladder and my overconfidence.
There I was, trying to fix the last bit of streamers above the entrance, holding onto a roll of tape like it was a sword in a battle against gravity. Shreya had warned me to wait, but no, I had to prove that I could totally do it on my own.
Big mistake.
One shift of balance and bam — the world tilted. I felt myself falling, eyes wide, heart slamming into my ribs.
But instead of hitting the floor, I landed straight into someone's arms.
Strong, warm, annoyingly familiar arms.
Saharsh.
For a second — no, for several very long, cinematic seconds — we just looked at each other. His hands still around my waist, my hands gripping the front of his shirt. I could hear the soft thud of music playing somewhere, but it was drowned out by the absolute silence between us.
And in that silence, I felt something else. A jolt — not of fear or embarrassment — but something like a spark. Like static running across my skin where his arms held me. My heart didn't just skip a beat, it performed an entire dance sequence. My stomach fluttered wildly — butterflies, tornadoes, I couldn't tell.
His fingers pressed slightly into my waist, not too firm, but enough to make me hyper-aware of the closeness. The way his breath lightly brushed my forehead, the subtle scent of his cologne mixed with something unexplainable... him.
I was frozen, not in shock, but in this strange heat, this unfamiliar closeness that made every nerve in my body light up.
His eyes soft, curious, and maybe a little stunned. Like he wasn't expecting this moment either. Like he wasn't sure what to do with it.
Neither was I.
And then... the spell broke.
"Areee love birds, want some background music or should we continue decorating?" Ujjwal's voice sliced through the moment like a bucket of cold water.
"Oh ho ho! Kuch kuch hota hai vibes!" Sneha added dramatically.
I jumped out of Saharsh's arms like I had been electrocuted. My face? Flaming. My dignity? Questionable.
Saharsh cleared his throat, adjusting his sleeves, trying not to smile. "Maybe next time don't fight gravity alone?"
I rolled my eyes, trying hard not to laugh. "Maybe next time don't sneak up and play knight in shining armor without a warning?"
He tilted his head, smirking. "Hey, I didn't plan to catch a human projectile today. You kinda crashed my schedule."
I stared at him. "Did you just say I'm a projectile?"
He shrugged playfully. "A pretty one, at least."
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't push it, Saharsh."
"Oh, I never push. I just... wait for gravity to do the work."
"Seriously?" I said, but I was already laughing despite myself.
"Seriously," he echoed with a grin, before handing me the tape I had dropped. "Next time, let someone hold the ladder for you. Preferably me."
I mumbled a half-sarcastic thanks and turned away, heart still beating stupidly fast.
Because falling for someone? I didn't plan that.
Falling into someone? Apparently, that's just my style.
By the time I got home, I was already exhausted — mentally more than anything. My bag hit the floor before I did, slumping onto the sofa and closing my eyes for just a second.
And then came the familiar sound.
Aai.
"Whole day out of the house, coming back after sunset like a guest. What even do you do outside, huh?" she started from the kitchen.
I groaned silently. Not today. Please not today.
"You're always busy with that college drama. When I was your age, I already had you in my arms, running a house."
Deep breath, Sameera. Don't snap.
"You don't even know how to cook properly, how will you manage a house after marriage? And don't think I don't see how much time you spend on your phone — who even are you texting at midnight? Arey, this is the age for a girl to behave decently, not roam around like a boy."
There it was. The marriage bomb.
Again.
I stood up so fast the chair squeaked. "I'm not having this conversation again, Aai!"
"Then stop making me repeat it! Shaadi won't happen on its own, and you're not getting younger!"
I grabbed my phone and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind me as I took a deep breath of Thane's fresh and blessedly silent air.
I needed to vent. I needed Rishi.
Me: Call. Now. Before I combust.
The phone rang just once before she picked up. "Oof. What happened now?"
I started walking, pacing the same street I always did when I needed to clear my head. "My mom happened. Again. Why is it her life goal to get me married off to some random engineer uncle with a decent salary and a gold chain?"
Rishi cackled. "You mean a 'well-settled boy' who will let you cook his meals and delete your dreams?"
"Exactly!" I said, voice rising. "And on top of that, this stupid welcome event is giving me anxiety. Half the work is on my head, and then there's him."
"Him?"
"Saharsh. Mr. Opinions-Are-My-Personality. He's... ugh. I don't even know. Annoying. But kind of sweet. But mostly annoying."
Rishi hummed teasingly. "Sounds like someone's catching feelings."
I groaned. "No! He's just... kind of there, all the time. Today I literally fell on him. He caught me. There was teasing. Jokes. A little smirk. And okay, maybe my heart skipped a beat. But it means nothing."
"Mmhmm. Just nothing. That you remember the smirk. And the heartbeat. And his exact words."
"I swear I will hang up."
"You won't."
She was right. I wouldn't. Because as frustrating as everything was — home, college, Saharsh — at least I had Rishi. And right now, that was enough to keep me sane.