The morning air in the school felt oddly light, as if the storm of past days had quietly drifted away. Ridrakshika entered the classroom, adjusting the sling on her bandaged hand, pretending the curious glances didn’t bother her. But the moment her eyes met Adyansh’s—leaning casually on his desk, smirking like the devil himself—her calm cracked.

“Still acting like the school’s tragedy queen after the glass incident, huh?” he murmured just low enough for only her to hear as she crossed by him.

She shot him a sideways glare, lips curling into a smirk. “At least I didn’t stand there like a statue when things went south, Mr. Hero-Without-Action,” she quipped back without missing a beat.

Their exchange was interrupted by Mr. Mehta’s loud voice as he entered, “Enough drama, people! The project still waits. I want clean, professional work from all teams. No excuses this time. Especially not from this… ‘OG Four’ squad.”

Everyone chuckled quietly as Adyansh and Ridrakshika exchanged yet another glare, the heat between them undeniable, though neither would admit it.

Later, in the library during project discussion, Ridrakshika bent down to pick up a fallen file when her injured hand slipped—straight into Adyansh’s space. His quick reflexes caught her by the elbow, steadying her before she could fall.

“Careful, Verma. Your balance sucks more than your attitude,” he teased softly, his hand lingering a second too long.

Her breath hitched but she masked it with a sarcastic smile. “And you care because...?”

“I don’t. Just saving the project from disaster,” he said, pulling his hand away and stuffing it in his pocket. But the slight pink in his ears didn’t go unnoticed.

As they walked back to class, their shoulders brushed—neither moved away this time.

Sanskaar and Esha exchanged knowing glances behind them, smirking like this slow-burn drama was better than any soap opera.

------

Lunch break was supposed to be peaceful. But with Adyansh and Ridrakshika sitting at the same table—thanks to Sanskaar and Esha’s evil matchmaking—it was anything but.

Ridrakshika stabbed her fork into her pasta, refusing to look at the annoying boy across from her who was munching on his sandwich like the king of the world.

“Tumhe khana khane ka bhi attitude hai kya, Sachdeva?” she finally snapped, eyes narrowing.

Adyansh smirked, licking the crumb off his thumb in the slowest, most irritating way possible. “Mujhe toh laga tum mujhe chhupke dekh rahi thi, Verma. Staring problem ho gayi hai kya?”

Ridrakshika choked on her pasta, glaring. “Excuse me?! Mujhe tumhe dekhne se accha toh school ki walls dekhna hai—kam se kam boring toh nahi lagti!”

Esha chuckled silently from the side, fully enjoying the scene.

But fate wasn’t done yet.

As Ridrakshika leaned to grab her water bottle, her elbow accidentally hit the small bowl of sauce sitting near Adyansh. Before she could process, the entire bowl tipped… straight onto Adyansh’s pristine white shirt.

For a second—dead silence.

Ridrakshika froze, horrified. Adyansh slowly looked down at the huge red blot on his chest and then up at her—mouth twitching into the most wicked smile.

“Nice shot, sniper. Ab mujhe sauce ke saath hi khaane ka plan hai kya tumhara?” he drawled, standing up and wiping the mess with a tissue, making it worse.

“I—I didn’t do it on purpose!” she stammered, panic written all over her face.

Adyansh leaned in close, just enough for her breath to catch. “Tumhare ‘accidents’ hamesha mere saath hi kyun hote hain, Ridrakshika? Kya main itna irresistible hoon?” he whispered smugly.

Her cheeks flared bright red.

“Ugh! Apni shirt change kar lo before I throw the whole pasta plate on you!” she snapped and stood to walk away—only for her foot to catch on his bag strap lying sneakily under the table.

Ridrakshika stumbled forward—straight into Adyansh’s chest.

His hands shot out on reflex, gripping her arms to steady her, their faces this close, breaths mixing.

For a heartbeat… time paused.

Her wide eyes locked with his amused, twinkling ones. “Tum seriously mujhe hi giraane aayi thi na?” he murmured, voice low and teasing.

Ridrakshika gulped and pushed him away, mumbling, “Stay away, you bad luck magnet.”

But even as she fled towards the canteen door, she could hear his soft chuckle behind her.

Adyansh smirked, brushing the sauce stain from his shirt. “Pagal ladki…” he muttered under his breath, amused.

------

The sports period had brought chaos to the class.

Mr. Mehta had clapped his hands and announced, “Aaj teamwork aur coordination ka test hoga! Sabko randomly partners milenge for the three-legged race!”

And just Ridrakshika’s luck—her name got called with Adyansh.

“Wow... Universe bhi tumhe mujhse chipka ke hi maanega,” Adyansh muttered, smirking as he crouched to tie the cloth around their legs.

Ridrakshika snatched the cloth from him, glaring. “Tumhare saath race karne se toh behtar hai main last aa jaaun,” she snapped.

“Chinta mat karo, tumhare jaise gadhi ke saath main jeetne ka soch bhi nahi raha,” Adyansh grinned, leaning closer, his breath fanning her ear. “Par gir gaye toh mere upar mat girna.”

Her eyes flashed. “Tumhare neeche gir jaaun toh?” she fired back, raising a brow.

For a heartbeat, their eyes locked.

Deep. Silent. Challenging.

Neither looked away.

Esha and Sanskaar giggled nearby, while Tanisha stood frozen at the edge of the field, her nails digging deep into her palms as she watched this unexpected tension building.

“Ready... set... GO!” Mr. Mehta blew the whistle.

Without warning, Adyansh grabbed Ridrakshika’s waist tightly, pulling her close as they stumbled forward, nearly toppling over.

“Chhodo mujhe! Main gir jaungi!” she squeaked, trying to free herself.

“Pagal ho? Gir gayi toh sabke saamne face plant ho jaayega! LEFT RIGHT LEFT RIGHT!” he commanded, holding her tighter.

They wobbled together like mismatched puppets, bumping, tripping, laughing breathlessly despite the struggle. Every time Ridrakshika swayed, Adyansh instinctively tugged her closer, his palm firm against her waist.

“Adyansh! Haath hatao!” she gasped, half laughing.

“Safety ke liye, Ridrakshika. Tum toh mujhe khud girane par tuli ho,” he shot back, eyes twinkling.

Another stumble—and their faces ended just inches apart.

Their breathing stilled.

His gaze dropped to her lips for a fleeting second—then back to her eyes.

For a moment, everything else blurred.

Only the chaotic pounding of hearts remained.

“Tum...” she whispered breathlessly, but couldn’t finish.

He smirked softly. “Kya tum itni bhi weak ho, Verma?” he teased under his breath—but his voice had lost its edge. It was softer now.

She stiffened, shoving him slightly as they finally crossed the finish line—last, obviously.

“Nice teamwork, partner. Thoda aur practice kar lein kya after school?” Adyansh leaned in, lips near her ear, voice low.

Ridrakshika elbowed him sharply in the ribs, cheeks blazing. “Tumhare saath toh main kabhi  practice nahi karungi!” she muttered, but her smile betrayed her words.

As they untied the cloth from their legs, their hands brushed—another jolt of eye contact.

Neither of them pulled away immediately.

Far away, Tanisha seethed silently, her eyes darkening.

Enough. This has gone too far. If I let this continue... she'll get closer to him than I ever could.

Her mind spun with new wicked plans as she turned sharply, storming off the field.

---

After the exhausting three-legged race, Ridrakshika stumbled toward the water stand, wiping her sweaty forehead. She grabbed a bottle, unscrewed the cap—only to have it snatched from her hand.

“Tumhare haathon se toh gir hi jaata... waste kar deti paani,” Adyansh’s familiar voice teased from behind her.

She spun on her heel. “Adyansh! Mujhe meri bottle do!” she demanded, reaching for the bottle.

He raised it high above her head, smirking devilishly. “Le lo... agar le sakti ho toh.”

“Tum height ka faayda mat uthao!” she grumbled, trying to jump and grab it. But Adyansh stepped back—straight into a muddy patch of grass—slipping suddenly.

“Adyansh!” Ridrakshika gasped, instinctively grabbing his arm to steady him.

Instead, the force made her lose balance too—and in the next second, both of them fell hard onto the soft grass, Ridrakshika landing squarely on top of him.

Time froze.

Adyansh’s hands had automatically gripped her waist to catch her. Their faces... mere inches apart.

His breath hitched. Her wide eyes stared straight into his, lips parted slightly in shock.

For a moment—no sounds, no friends, no world.

Just his racing heartbeat and her flustered gasp.

“Uff!” she groaned, pushing herself up fast—but her hand slipped again, pressing into his chest—and their eye contact deepened once more.

Adyansh smirked lazily, voice low. “Kitni baar girne ka plan hai tumhara, Ridrakshika?” he teased softly.

Her cheeks burned brighter than ever. “Sapne mat dekhno, Adyansh!” she shot back, finally scrambling off him, fixing her hair furiously.

Behind the trees, Tanisha clenched her fists tighter, glaring daggers at the scene. "This isn't over, Ridrakshika Verma..." she whispered darkly, eyes gleaming with a dangerous idea forming in her mind.

As Adyansh stood, brushing dirt off his clothes, his phone buzzed sharply in his pocket.

A new message flashed on the screen:

"Brace yourself, Sachdeva I’m back deadlier than ever."

His smile vanished. The tension crackled in the air once again.

__________________________________

Stay tuned for further updates 🎀

~shan