Sameera's POV:
The library was supposed to be a sacred place of silence.
Apparently, no one told my friends that.
I was wedged between Janvhi and Shreya at a table stacked with more coffee cups than books. Across from us, Atharva and Ujjwal were pretending to be deeply invested in their notes, which really meant they were listening to every word and waiting to pounce. Manjiri had her chin propped on her palm, watching me with the kind of expression people wear when they smell gossip in the air.
"So…" Shreya started, dragging the word out like she was an unspooling thread. "You and Saharsh, huh?"
I didn't look up from my book. "What about him?"
Atharva snorted. "Don't act innocent. We saw your face after you dragged him out of the canteen. It's called a look, Sameera. And you had it."
My pen froze halfway through a sentence. "It was nothing," I said, too quickly.
"Uh-huh," Ujjwal chimed in, not even glancing up from his phone. "That's exactly what people say when it's definitely something."
I turned the page in my book, ignoring them, but my mind wasn't on the words in front of me. It was still back in that empty classroom… in the way Saharsh's forehead had rested against mine, in the heat of his hand on my cheek, in the quiet certainty in his voice when he told me he wasn't letting go.
There was something about saying it out loud—admitting to him that I felt something—that had left me feeling… lighter. Unburdened, almost. Like I'd been carrying a weight I didn't even realize until it wasn't there anymore.
Janhvi, who had been suspiciously quiet so far, leaned in and whispered in my ear, "You're glowing, by the way."
I elbowed her. "Shut up."
But the worst part? She was right.
By the time the last lecture ended, my brain felt like it had been boiled. The corridors buzzed with the sound of people making plans, shoes scuffing against the tiled floor, the occasional laughter echoing from somewhere down the hall.
At the main entrance, I spotted Aryan, Shreya, and Janhvi waiting for me. Across the gate, Saharsh was leaning casually against his bike, talking to Daksh and Shivam.
We locked eyes. Just for a second.
It wasn't the usual, fleeting glance. This time there was something else—something that made my pulse quicken before I could even name it. He didn't smile, didn't look away. Just held my gaze, steady and unreadable, until Janvhi's voice broke the moment.
"Oh look," Janhvi announced suddenly, way too loudly. "Perfect timing. Saharsh, can you take Sameera home? Since, you know, we're neighbours now?"
I blinked. "Wait—why?"
Janhvi flashed a grin that was way too smug for my liking. "Because I have a date."
The effect was instant—Daksh's expression tightened, his easy smile faltering as his eyes flicked to her.
"A date?" Shivam repeated, his voice dripping with mock drama. "Janhvi, you've betrayed us."
Shreya gasped theatrically. "We'll never recover from this."
Aryan folded his arms. "Who's the unlucky guy?"
"Not telling," Janhvi sang, clearly enjoying herself.
Daksh shoved his hands in his pockets, but I caught the way he looked away, jaw tense.
"Oh come on," Shivam teased, "you've got to give us something."
"Fine," Janhvi said sweetly, "he's… not you guys." She winked.
Everyone laughed, except Daksh. Saharsh glanced at him briefly, then looked back at me, his eyes softening again like they had at the gate.
Janhvi gave me a nudge. "Go. I trust him to drop you home."
Before I could protest again, she and the others started walking off, still teasing her about her "mysterious date." And just like that, I was standing there with Saharsh, the space between us charged in a way it hadn't been before this week.
He tilted his head toward his bike. "Ready?"
I wasn't. But I nodded anyway.
The ride home was… quiet. Not the awkward kind, but the kind where every little thing felt louder than it should—the hum of the engine beneath me, the faint scent of his cologne drifting back, the way my knees brushed against him every time we took a turn.
We reached our building, and I hopped off the bike. He parked it and fell into step beside me as we walked toward the entrance. The echo of our footsteps filled the empty corridor.
And then, out of nowhere, his fingers brushed mine—just lightly at first, before he tried to actually hold my hand.
I instinctively pulled back.
His brows drew together, that slow, deliberate walk not breaking. "Why'd you do that?"
I glanced at him, half-amused. "Do what?"
"Pull away," he said, a faint edge of mock offense in his tone. "There's no one here. And you promised you'd stop fighting it."
I bit back a smile. "Yes… but you're not my boyfriend to hold my hand and all."
That made him stop right there in the corridor, turning fully toward me. "After today's classroom chat," he said with complete seriousness, "I thought we were already together."
I raised an eyebrow. "You never actually asked me to be your girlfriend, so… practically, we're still not together."
For a second, he just stared at me like I'd spoken in a foreign language. Then his lips curved, eyes glinting.
"Accha… toh pucha nahi tha na?" He took a small step closer. "Toh ab puch leta hoon—will you be my girlfriend, Sameera Gayaki?"
I blinked at him, my heart skipping like it had better things to do. "Not so easily," I teased, turning toward my door before he could see the flush creeping up my neck.
He let out a low, dramatic sigh. "Goodnight, girlfriend-who's-not-my-girlfriend-yet."
I shut the door, leaning against it for a second, trying to will away the smile tugging at my lips.