Meera loved the library. The smell of old books, the quiet rustle of pages, the way the world seemed to slow down—it was her escape.
Which is why it drove her insane when Aarav decided it was his too.
She slipped into her usual corner table one evening, setting down her camera bag and opening her laptop. Peace. Silence. Finally, no interruptions.
Until someone slid into the chair across from her.
She didn't even look up. "No."
"Yes," Aarav replied smoothly, resting his textbook on the table.
Meera groaned. "Malhotra, this is a library. The one sacred place. Can you not?"
He opened his book without glancing at her. "I like it here."
"Why?" she demanded.
His eyes flicked up, pinning her. "You're here."
Her pulse stuttered. She looked away quickly, pretending to focus on her laptop. "You're unbelievable."
"I've heard," he said mildly, turning a page.
For the first twenty minutes, they didn't speak. Aarav read silently; Meera tried to ignore him. It almost worked. Almost.
Then her phone buzzed. A message from Priya: Study date tomorrow? Also, tell Aarav to stop staring at you in class, it's distracting.
Meera sighed, typing back quickly: He's not staring. He's just… intense.
A shadow fell across her screen. She looked up. Aarav's gaze was sharp, unreadable.
"Who are you texting?"
Meera's mouth fell open. "Excuse me? Since when is that your business?"
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. "Since you made me your problem."
"I did not—" She stopped herself, lowering her voice before the librarian could shush them. "You know what? Forget it."
But his gaze didn't waver. It burned into her, so heavy she had to close her laptop just to escape it.
Ten minutes later, as she packed her things, Aarav spoke again.
"You shouldn't walk home alone tonight. It's late."
She rolled her eyes. "Here we go again."
"I'll come with you."
"No, you won't."
"Yes," he said, calm and steady.
"Aarav, you can't just—"
He leaned forward, voice dropping low enough to curl into her skin. "I can. And I will."
For a moment, her breath caught. His tone wasn't playful. It was possessive. Unyielding.
She shoved her laptop into her bag, standing quickly. "Fine. Walk me home. But only because I don't feel like arguing."
His lips curved slightly, as though he'd won.
On the walk back, silence stretched between them. But it wasn't awkward. It was… heavy.
Finally, Meera muttered, "You know you can't keep doing this forever, right? Following me around, inserting yourself into everything. People are starting to talk."
"Good," Aarav said simply.
She stopped in her tracks. "Good? You want people to think you're obsessed with me?"
He turned to her, eyes gleaming under the streetlights. "I don't care what people think. Only what you do."
Her chest tightened. She wanted to tell him she hated it. She wanted to laugh in his face.
But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.
Because the truth was, what she thought scared her most of all.
At the hostel gate, she turned sharply, trying to put space between them. "Goodnight, Malhotra."
He didn't move. He just watched her, eyes unreadable, until she slipped inside.
Only when the door clicked shut did he whisper, too softly for her to hear:
"You're already mine, Meera. The rest is just a matter of time."