Saharsh's POV:
The next morning, campus felt... different. Or maybe it was just me.
I don't even remember walking back to my building yesterday after that.
I'd barely slept, replaying that moment over and over until it started to feel like a dream.
Her eyes.
The way she froze when I touched her cheek.
The silence between us—not awkward, not forced, but heavy, like it meant something neither of us dared to say.
God, what was I thinking?
She must have been shocked. Or worse—maybe I scared her.
Maybe she's thinking I crossed a line.
I raked a hand through my hair, slumping in my seat as the professor's voice droned on about market structures. The words bounced around the room without landing anywhere near me. My pen hovered over my notebook, unmoving.
What if she's avoiding me now?
What if she thinks I'm some creep?
But... she didn't step back. She didn't look away.
If anything, I swear I saw her breath catch.
A stupid smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. And then I immediately smacked myself mentally—this wasn't the time to get carried away.
I forced my gaze to the board, but all I could see was her standing there with her hair falling over her shoulder, the faintest hint of surprise on her face.
Yeah, I was hopeless. And completely useless in this lecture.
I was so lost replaying that moment that the sound of my name nearly gave me whiplash.
"Mr. Wankhade?"
I blinked, my pen slipping from my fingers. The whole class was staring.
"Yes... sir?" I straightened up, trying to look like I had been paying attention for the last twenty minutes.
The professor adjusted his glasses. "If you're done staring at the wall, maybe you can tell us the answer?"
My brain scrambled for something—anything—but all I could think of was Sameera. Definitely not the law of demand.
A couple of students snickered. I cleared my throat. "Uh... supply and demand?"
The professor gave me a flat look. "That's not even the question." He sighed. "Please... try to join us in class next time."
I mumbled an apology, sinking into my seat as the giggles around me faded. Great. First, I get lost in her, and now I'm the daydreaming idiot of the day.
But even as I picked my pen back up, I knew one thing—no lecture in the world could compete with the way she made my head spin.
The lecture finally ended, but my brain was still somewhere between yesterday's moment and the way her hair brushed my arm.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped out, scanning the hallway like a detective in plain clothes. She was there—standing with Kiara, listening intently while Shivam spoke about something I clearly wasn't invited to.
I slowed my pace, pretending to check my phone. She glanced my way for half a second before looking back at Kiara. No smile. No hello. Nothing.
Shivam, of course, didn't miss it. "Oho... someone's in trouble," he muttered as I passed.
Daksh, who'd been MIA the past week, raised an eyebrow. "Trouble? What'd I miss?"
Kiara smirked. "Long story. But let's just say the whole college is talking."
Shivam grinned. "And our man here is the main character."
I ignored them, but my eyes kept drifting to her. She was laughing at something Kiara said—normal, casual, like nothing had happened between us.
Except something had.
And I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe... she was trying to pretend it hadn't.
We'd barely made it out of the building before Shivam and Daksh cornered me.
"Bhai," Shivam started, grinning like he'd won a lottery, "did you by chance... I don't know... lean against a certain engineering student in a more-than-friendly way yesterday?"
Daksh narrowed his eyes. "Wait. Is that what Kiara was hinting at?"
I shoved my hands in my pockets. "Nothing happened."
Shivam laughed. "Right. And I'm the Dean of Harvard."
Daksh smirked. "You know, for someone who keeps saying nothing's going on, you look like you're waiting for her to fall out of the sky."
They weren't wrong. My eyes had already found her across the quad—still with Kiara, still laughing at something I wasn't part of.
"I just need to talk to her," I muttered.
Shivam clapped my shoulder. "Go, lover boy. But don't scare her this time."
Easier said than done.
I started walking toward her, rehearsing something casual in my head. Hey, can we talk? No, too direct. About yesterday— Yeah, no. That sounded like an apology before I'd even started.
She spotted me halfway there.
And then, just like that, she turned to Kiara, said something I couldn't hear, and started walking in the opposite direction.
Not running, not rushing—just enough to make it clear she didn't plan on stopping.
I quickened my pace, but every time I thought I'd catch up, someone would block my path—some random junior asking for a club form signature, a professor passing by. By the time I got a clear line, she was already at the girls' common room entrance.
She looked back once. Not long enough for me to read her expression.
Shivam's voice floated from behind me. "That went well."
I ignored him, my eyes fixed on the closed door.
If she was avoiding me... it meant she had been affected.
And that thought?
Dangerous. Addictive.
Sameera's POV
I wasn't avoiding him.
Okay... maybe I was.
Not because I was scared. Not because I was angry. But because every time I thought about yesterday—about him standing so close, about the way his voice had dropped when he said I looked beautiful—my stomach did this weird flip thing.
And then there was... that. The way his fingers had brushed against my arm, how his gaze had felt heavier than his touch. I could still feel it, like my skin hadn't moved on from the moment.
So yeah, maybe I was avoiding him. Because I didn't trust my face not to give something away. Because I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to say if he brought it up.
Kiara was halfway through telling Daksh something about a new café when I spotted him heading toward us. My heart did that stupid lurch again.
Nope. Not today.
"Kiara, I'll catch you later," I said quickly, already stepping away before my brain could change its mind.
I didn't have to turn around to know he was still watching me. I could feel it—burning between my shoulder blades, trailing after me until I reached the safety of the girls' common room.
And the worst part?
I wasn't sure if I wanted him to stop.
I didn't want this.
Whatever this was.
I'd never been the girl who daydreamed about falling for someone. Never had the time or the patience for all that... emotional drama. I had plans—clear, simple, and entirely mine. Plans that didn't involve a boy with annoyingly intense eyes and the ability to turn my brain into mashed potatoes in under five seconds.
And yet... here I was.
It wasn't just hard to ignore him—it was impossible. He'd walk into a room and it was like my senses short-circuited. My ears would find his voice even in a crowd. My eyes... well, they didn't exactly ask my permission before finding him.
I didn't know if I wanted him to stop, but I was sure of one thing—
I wanted to stop this. This restless, fluttery, completely uninvited chaos inside me.
But every time I tried, every time I told myself to just focus, he'd do something small—like push his hair back, or smile at someone—and I'd feel myself slipping again.
And honestly?
I hated it.
Because losing control was never part of the plan.