By afternoon, Meera's fury was boiling over.
She had tried ignoring him. She had tried running. Nothing worked. And the worst part? Everyone around her acted like Aarav's presence was normal, even helpful. Professors praised her, Priya teased her, classmates tiptoed around him.
But she couldn't. She wouldn't.
When she spotted him outside the library, leaning against the railing as though he owned the building, something inside her snapped.
She marched up, dropping her bag at his feet. "Do you enjoy this?!"
Aarav looked down at the bag, then up at her. His expression didn't change. "Enjoy what?"
"This!" she hissed, hands flying. "Shadowing me, ruining my choices, deciding everything before I can even breathe. Do you get some sick thrill out of controlling me?"
He tilted his head slightly, calm as ever. "You call it control. I call it care."
Her chest heaved. "Care doesn't feel like suffocation!"
"It does," he said quietly, stepping closer, "when you're not used to being seen."
Her breath caught. His voice was too soft, too steady, like he wasn't defending himself—just stating a fact.
She shoved him back, her palms hitting his chest. "Stop twisting my words! You're destroying my life!"
His hand caught her wrist before she could pull away. Not harsh, not painful—just firm enough to remind her she wasn't leaving until he allowed it.
"No," Aarav murmured. His gaze bore into hers, calm but unyielding. "I'm not destroying you. I'm keeping you."
Meera's chest constricted. For a second, she couldn't breathe, not from his grip, but from the weight of his certainty.
Her voice shook. "You can't keep me, Aarav. I'm not yours."
"Yes, you are."
The words weren't loud, but they cracked through her like thunder.
And what terrified her most was the way part of her believed it.
Priya spotted them from across the courtyard and waved. "Joshi! You coming?"
Meera yanked her hand free, stumbling back. Aarav didn't move, his gaze locked on her, calm as stone.
She forced a laugh, forcing her trembling legs to walk toward Priya.
But she knew.
Even as she smiled. Even as she pretended.
The collision wasn't over.
It was only the beginning