Saturday mornings were sacred to Meera. They meant sleeping in, messy hair, and coffee so strong it could wake the dead.
Which was why she nearly dropped her mug when she opened her door to find Aarav leaning casually against the railing outside her hostel.
She blinked. "Are you—did you seriously wait here all night?"
He shrugged, as if spending hours on a concrete ledge was normal. "I like quiet places."
Meera groaned, rubbing her temples. "You're unbelievable. What do you want, Malhotra?"
"Coffee," he said simply, eyes flicking to the steaming mug in her hand.
Her jaw dropped. "You're stalking me for caffeine now?"
He smirked. "No. I'm stalking you for you. The coffee's a bonus."
She nearly slammed the door in his face, but some ridiculous part of her hesitated. Against all logic, she sighed and stepped aside.
"Fine. But one cup. Then you leave."
Five minutes later, Aarav was sitting at her tiny desk, perfectly composed, sipping from the floral mug she usually reserved for guests. The sight of the campus golden boy drinking from a pink cup covered in daisies was almost worth the headache he caused.
Almost.
"So," Meera said, crossing her arms, "do you do this with everyone? Or am I just lucky?"
"You're the only one," he answered without hesitation.
The bluntness made her stomach flip. She masked it with sarcasm. "Wow. Congratulations. World's creepiest compliment."
He didn't react, just took another sip. Then, calmly, he said: "You shouldn't drink three cups of coffee before breakfast. It spikes your heart rate."
Meera blinked. "How do you—" Then it hit her. She narrowed her eyes. "Have you been watching me in the café?"
He didn't deny it. He didn't even look guilty. "I notice things."
"Notice things?" she sputtered. "That's not noticing. That's… surveillance!"
His gaze met hers, steady, unwavering. "If I don't pay attention, who will?"
For a second, she didn't know what to say. His words weren't flirtatious. They weren't even defensive. They were… sincere. And that scared her more than any smirk or threat.
She looked away quickly, grabbing her camera bag. "Well, thanks for the health lecture, Doctor Stalker. Some of us have work to do."
"Where?"
"None of your business."
"Everywhere you go is my business."
Her head snapped up. "Excuse me?"
He stood, setting the mug down with infuriating calm. "If you won't tell me, I'll follow and find out. Might as well save us both the trouble."
Meera groaned, pushing past him toward the door. "You're impossible."
He followed anyway, matching her stride like it was second nature.
At the café later, Priya nearly choked on her muffin when Aarav slid into the seat next to Meera, uninvited.
"Wow," Priya whispered. "You weren't kidding. He really is your shadow."
"Not my shadow," Meera hissed. "My parasite."
Aarav ignored them both, casually picking the sugar packet Meera had been reaching for. He tore it open, poured exactly half into her coffee, and slid it toward her.
"Too much sugar makes you jittery," he said, matter-of-fact.
Meera stared at the cup, then at him. "You do realize this is insane, right? You don't get to decide how sweet my coffee is."
His lips curved. "I do."
And the worst part?
When she took a sip, it was perfect.
That night, lying in bed, Meera replayed the day in her head. She told herself she hated it. Hated his control, his constant presence, his smug certainty.
But as sleep crept in, one thought slipped past her defenses:
No one had ever paid attention to her like this.