Saharsh's POV:
Ever since the event night, one thing had become clear—our college had a brand-new favourite topic.
And it wasn't the midsems.
I entered the class with Kiara, Shivam and Daksh.
"Bro missed one event and the whole campus shifted timelines," Shivam muttered, motioning to Daksh, who'd just returned after dealing with personal stuff.
Kiara leaned over. "Where do I start? Saharsh singing, Sameera glowing, dying-eye-contact, secret bike ride..."
Daksh blinked. "You're messing with me."
"You think I can make up Saharsh leading her into a dance like a Bollywood hero?" Shivam whispered.
I groaned, sinking into my seat, just as our professor walked in with a massive stack of papers.
"I need someone to drop these to the engineering admin office. Volunteers?"
The class fell into dead silence.
And then—
Saharsh's hand went up.
Even he looked like he'd done it by accident.
The professor nodded. "Good. That's the enthusiasm I want."
I bit back a smile.
Shivam muttered, "Damage is done. Lover boy's on autopilot."
The engineering corridor was mostly empty. I had finished the task the professor dumped on me—but instead of heading back, I found myself wandering.
Hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
Then I heard her voice from a half-open classroom.
"…No, I'm not blushing—shut up, Rishi."
I paused mid-step, my lips twitching. I knew that tone. Teasing denial.
Before I could stop myself, I leaned against the doorframe. "Blushing over what?"
She spun around so fast she almost dropped her phone.
"You scared the hell out of me!" she hissed, cutting the call and clutching her chest.
I smirked. "You always get this dramatic or is it just when I'm around?"
Sameera rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. She was wearing a rust-orange top with a knot at the side and dark denim jeans. Her hair was left open today, falling in soft waves that made her look... effortlessly stunning.
And she had no idea.
"You look beautiful today."
She stilled.
No teasing this time. Just a quiet truth hanging in the air between us.
She blinked, unsure whether to deflect or accept. "I—uh… thanks."
I stepped in, slow and easy, until we were standing barely a foot apart. Her back was against the desk now, and I could see the flutter in her lashes when she tried to keep her gaze steady.
"And this perfume…" I leaned in just slightly, enough to catch that faint fruity scent again. "You always smell like this?"
She swallowed, visibly trying to compose herself. "Saharsh…"
"Yeah?"
She didn't finish.
---
Sameera's POV
Why couldn't I speak?
My brain felt like it had been thrown into a blender the moment he stepped closer. I could feel the heat of him—his presence was so annoyingly calm while mine was… not.
He wasn't even touching me. Not really. Just his hand on the desk next to mine, just the way his eyes scanned my face like he was trying to memorize every tiny shift in my expression. It was so quiet, I could hear my own heartbeat, traitorous and loud.
He leaned a little closer.
His fingers brushed mine.
I didn't move.
Couldn't.
My stomach flipped so violently I had to steady myself with a breath. Why was it suddenly so warm in here?
And then, he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.
Softly.
Deliberately.
His knuckles brushed my cheek, slow and featherlight. The touch was nothing and everything at once. A whisper of heat. A question without words.
I didn't even realize I had closed my eyes for a second.
The warmth of his hand lingered even after it left.
And still, he didn't say a word.
Neither did I.
My chest rose and felt like I had just run up three flights of stairs. I wasn't sure where to look—his eyes? His lips? Anywhere but both?
I could feel everything: his closeness, his silence, his stillness.
And the tension.
The tension that crackled was so thick between us, it felt like the entire room was holding its breath.
Just like me.
And then—
"Sameera?" someone called from the corridor.
I blinked, snapping out of whatever trance had swallowed me whole.
He stepped back. Slowly. Reluctantly.
The air rushed back into my lungs as if I had been underwater.
My fingers were still tingling.
My thoughts were scrambled.
And all I could think was—what the hell was that?
I grabbed my phone from the desk and walked out like my feet were on autopilot.
One step. Two. Don't look back.
I could still feel his presence trailing behind me, like a shadow stitched to my spine. My heart was hammering so hard I thought people might hear it over the chatter in the hallway.
That was… nothing.
No—that was definitely something.
But what exactly?
Was it real? Had he meant to come that close? Or was it just one of those accidental moments that my brain was currently turning into a full-blown Bollywood drama?
The way his fingers touched mine. The way his eyes didn't flinch away from mine. The way he said I looked beautiful like it was a fact, not a compliment.
It wasn't like the Saharsh I had known on campus—the easygoing guy who made everyone feel comfortable with his quiet charm and warm jokes.
This was different.
There had been something… serious in his gaze. Something I wasn't prepared for.
Not now.
Not with him.
Not when I wasn't even sure what this was.
I walked faster, dodging through the corridor as if moving quickly would quiet the noise in my head. But nothing helped.
Every time I blinked, I could still feel the ghost of his touch on my cheek. The quiet heat in his eyes. The way my stomach had twisted—not in discomfort, but something far worse.
Butterflies.
Damn it.
I made it to the common hallway and stopped near the water cooler, taking a deep breath.
"Get a grip, Sameera," I muttered under my breath. "It's just Saharsh. You've known him. He's... nice. And polite. And helpful. And way too attractive when he's close enough to smell."
Ugh.
I closed my eyes and groaned internally.
This was getting dangerous.
Whatever that moment was—whether it meant something or not—I needed to figure out how to stay steady around him. Because if he kept looking at me like that, saying things like you look beautiful today… I wasn't sure how much longer I'd be able to pretend that I didn't feel something too.
I wasn't sure if I was ready.
But something had definitely shifted.
And I didn't know how to un-feel it.