Saharsh's POV:
Monday dragged like an old ceiling fan—spinning, but not doing anything useful.
The lecture hall was full, the professor was droning on about market segmentation, and all I could see in my head was the way her eyes had glistened yesterday morning… the way her breath had hitched when my fingers grazed her wrist.
I hadn't even opened my notebook. My pen just kept tapping, in time with my heartbeat, until finally I gave up.
Screw this.
By the time I wandered to the engineering section, I wasn't even sure what I was hoping for. Maybe just a glimpse of her. Maybe the reassurance that yesterday didn't feel as earth-shifting to me alone.
Instead, I found Sneha and Manjiri lounging near the staircase, sipping cutting chai like they had all the time in the world.
"Where's Sameera?" I asked, too casually to be casual.
Sneha glanced at Manjiri, then back at me. "Skipped."
Something in my stomach dropped. "Skipped? Why?"
Manjiri raised an eyebrow. "You look like you just heard someone cancelled your Netflix subscription."
"Just answer," I said, sharper than I meant.
"She's moving," Sneha announced like it was common knowledge.
That… wasn't even on my radar. "Moving? To where?"
Manjiri grinned. "Here."
I frowned. "Here as in…?"
"As in—Malad. As in—Janhvi found this apartment in your building," Sneha supplied, sipping her tea like she hadn't just dropped a bomb on my day.
I blinked at them, the words not computing. "In my building?"
"Yeah," Manjiri said, shrugging. "Safe area, close to college. Janhvi thought it was perfect. Sameera's been too busy having… you know… life stuff to notice the finer details."
Life stuff. Right. Panic attack, beach, forehead kiss, my confession she pretended to sleep through.
Sneha smirked. "You should've seen your face just now. Thought she was avoiding you, didn't you?"
I stayed silent. They didn't need to know how true that was.
Manjiri clapped her hands suddenly. "Anyway, we're skipping the rest of the day to help her unpack and set the place up."
Daksh, who had appeared out of nowhere, chimed in. "Oho, setting up an apartment? Count me in. I can fix shelves, assemble furniture—"
"You can't even assemble your own life," Sneha cut in, deadpan.
Daksh ignored her. "Also, free snacks?"
"Snacks will be there," Manjiri said.
Daksh grinned. "I'm in."
I rolled my eyes, but somewhere under all of it… my chest felt lighter. She was moving here. To my building.
And she had no idea.
When we got to her building, Sameera was already outside with Janhvi, unlocking the door. Her eyes widened the moment she spotted me and Daksh behind the girls.
"You didn't tell me they were coming," she hissed to Janhvi.
Janhvi shrugged. "We needed manpower. Aryan and Ujjwal bailed."
Daksh grinned. "Don't worry, I work for food."
"Then you'll get nothing," Manjiri teased. "You'll eat it all before we're done."
Inside, the apartment was a maze of half-open boxes.
"Okay, Sameera, you take the bedroom stuff. Saharsh, you help her," Janhvi ordered, already hauling curtains to the living room.
Sameera shot me a look. "You planned this, didn't you?"
I smirked. "Wish I could take the credit."
The afternoon turned into organized chaos—Janhvi and Sneha debating where the sofa should go, Daksh nearly breaking a lamp, and Manjiri claiming she was "supervising" while actually just eating chips.
Every so often, I'd catch her glancing at me—quick, almost guilty glances, like she didn't want me to notice. But I always did. And every time our eyes met, she'd look away first.
By the end, the place looked more like a home than a mess. And I still hadn't told her the part where I lived two floors above her.
When we dumped the huge pile of empty boxes into the corridor, Sameera flopped onto the couch like she'd just run a marathon.
"I'm not moving again for the next ten years," she muttered.
"That's optimistic," Daksh said. "Wait till Janhvi starts Pinterest-shopping for new furniture."
Janhvi grinned. "Already have a list."
Sameera groaned, leaning back. "Kill me now."
I leaned casually against the wall. "At least you won't have to travel two hours from Thane anymore."
"Yeah," she said, smiling faintly. "It'll be so much easier now."
I took my chance. "Especially since I live two floors above you."
Her head snapped up so fast I thought she'd get whiplash.
"You what?"
Sneha snorted. "Surprise."
Manjiri added, "We didn't tell you because we knew you'd make that exact face."
"I—wait—you're telling me I've moved into your building?" She looked around at all of them like this was some elaborate prank.
"Hey, don't sound so horrified," I said, pretending to be offended. "It's not like I'm going to camp outside your door."
Daksh grinned. "Yet."
The girls burst into laughter while she shot me a suspicious look. "This better not be some stalker setup."
"Please," I said with a smirk. "If I was going to stalk you, I'd do it more subtly."
That earned me an eye-roll, but I caught the way her lips twitched like she was holding back a smile.
We were walking back from dumping the last of the flattened cardboard boxes in the garbage area. The building was quiet, the kind of stillness that made every footstep echo. By the time we reached their floor, the others had already gone inside. Janhvi was curled up on the couch, fast asleep, a blanket slipping off her shoulder.
Sameera turned to head inside, but I caught her wrist before she could disappear.
"Wait."
She stilled, glancing back at me, wary. "What now?"
I stepped into her space, the narrow corridor pressing the air between us tight. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"Running," I said, my voice low.
Her throat worked. "I'm not—"
"Yes, you are," I cut in, bracing my hand on the wall beside her head. The move wasn't forceful, but it left her nowhere to go. "And you know I don't like it when you do that."
Her eyes flicked to my chest, my mouth, anywhere but my eyes—like looking at me would undo her completely. I could feel her pulse thudding through the small distance between us.
I leaned in, my breath brushing her cheek first—slow enough for her to feel the warmth, for the air between us to tighten even more. Her lashes fluttered, and I swear I heard the soft hitch of her breath.
And then, instead of where I'd almost gone, I pressed my lips to her cheek. Not rushed. Not casual. Slow enough to let the meaning sink in.
She froze under the touch, her eyes snapping open, the softest flush spreading across her skin. Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something but forgot how. The surprise in her gaze made her look unfairly beautiful—like she didn't know how easily she could undo me.
I stepped back, forcing my voice to stay light. "Good night, Sameera."
I turned before she could answer, walking toward the stairs. But as I glanced back once, just once, she was still standing there in the quiet corridor—her fingers ghosting over the spot I'd kissed, like she was trying to hold on to it a little longer.