Monday mornings were cruel enough without Aarav Malhotra making them worse.
Meera entered her economics lecture late, balancing her laptop, notebooks, and a dangerously full cup of chai. The hall was packed—every seat taken except one near the front.
"Finally," she muttered, rushing toward it.
But just as she reached the row, a tall figure slid into the chair with maddening ease.
Aarav.
He set his book on the desk, adjusting his sleeves like he owned the place. His gaze lifted lazily to hers, and his lips curved in that infuriating half-smile.
"You're in my seat," Meera hissed.
"No," he said calmly, crossing one leg over the other. "You're late. Which means you lost it. Sit here."
He patted the chair beside him.
Meera stared. "You did not just steal my spot to boss me around."
"Correction," Aarav said smoothly, "I saved the seat next to me. You should thank me."
A few students snickered, whispering to each other. Meera's cheeks burned. With no other choice, she plopped into the chair, muttering, "You're impossible."
"I'm consistent," he replied, opening his notebook.
Halfway through the lecture, Meera realized her pen was missing. She searched her bag, groaning under her breath.
Without looking up, Aarav slid his pen across the desk toward her.
Meera blinked. "Do you just… carry spares for when you invade people's lives?"
"You lose things often," he said simply. "I plan for it."
She wanted to be angry. She tried to be angry. But some part of her—the part that noticed he was always prepared for her—couldn't help the tiny flutter in her chest.
Still, she leaned closer and whispered, "You can't keep doing this. Controlling everything I do."
His eyes met hers, sharp and unwavering. "I can. And I will."
Her breath caught. His tone wasn't playful this time. It was a promise.
After class, Meera rushed out, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But of course, Aarav appeared at her side, walking in perfect sync.
"Are you seriously following me again?" she snapped.
"Not following," he corrected. "Escorting."
"To where?"
"Wherever you're going."
She groaned, covering her face. "You do realize how creepy that sounds, right?"
"Only if you don't like it," he said softly.
Her hands dropped, and she stared at him. For a moment, the playful arrogance was gone, replaced by something raw. Vulnerable.
It scared her more than the smirks ever did.
At lunch, Priya joined them, eyeing Aarav like he was a puzzle she couldn't solve.
"So," Priya said slowly, "do you two… date?"
Meera choked on her water. "What?! No!"
"Yes," Aarav said at the exact same time.
Meera whipped around, glaring at him. "We do not!"
Aarav's gaze didn't waver. "We do."
Priya raised her brows. "Uh… should I leave you two to figure this out?"
Meera buried her face in her hands. Aarav, meanwhile, looked perfectly at ease, sipping his water as though he hadn't just rewritten reality in front of her best friend.
Later that evening, Meera stormed up to him outside the library. "You can't just go around telling people we're dating!"
"Why not?" His tone was calm, but his eyes glinted.
"Because it's not true!"
He stepped closer, voice dropping low. "Not yet."
Her chest tightened. She wanted to shove him away, to scream, to laugh, to… something. But all she could do was stand there, heart pounding, as his words wrapped around her like chains.
"Soon," he murmured, brushing past her.
And the terrifying part?
A small, traitorous part of her wanted to believe him.