The paperwork on my desk seemed never-ending. The silence of the office should have been peaceful, but I was too preoccupied to enjoy it. The hum of the air conditioner filled the room as I worked, the steady rhythm of grading temporarily distracting me.
That is, until the door creaked open.
"Good afternoon, Professor," Kruti's cheerful voice echoed through the room. I glanced up, my brows furrowing.
"What are you doing here, Kruti?" I asked, my tone more curt than I intended.
She entered the office without hesitation, balancing her lunchbox in one hand and a water bottle in the other. She shut the door behind her with her foot, her grin unbothered by my tone.
"Having lunch," she announced, plopping herself onto the couch in the corner of the room. "Your office is much cozier."
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "This isn't your personal lounge. Shouldn't you be in class or eating with your friends?"
She shrugged, opening her lunchbox. "They're boring. You're more fun to bother."
"I'm busy, Kruti," I replied, gesturing to the pile of papers on my desk.
"And I'm hungry," she said, completely ignoring my exasperation.
I shook my head, muttering under my breath as I returned to my work. The rustling of her lunchbox and the faint aroma of parathas filled the room.
"Have you eaten yet?" she asked casually, taking a bite.
"No," I replied without looking up.
"Why not?" she pressed, her voice taking on a teasing tone.
"I'm working," I said shortly.
"You can't survive on work alone, Professor Grump," she quipped, her grin audible in her voice. "And to keep that body in shape?" She smirked.
"Shut up," I could feel the heat rising.
"You like it!" She laughed.
I didn't respond. She didn't need any more encouragement.
Minutes passed, the sound of her munching and occasional humming filling the room. I tried to tune her out, but she had a way of making her presence impossible to ignore.
"Are you sure you don't want some?" she asked, holding up a piece of paratha.
"No," I said firmly.
"Good," she said with a mischievous smirk, pulling out another lunchbox.
I looked up just in time to see her opening my lunch, which had been sitting on the corner table. My eyebrows shot up in disbelief.
"Kruti, what are you doing?" I asked sharply.
"Helping you," she said innocently, taking a bite of the paratha.
"You know, I think the students have already started thinking that i live in a dhaba."
"What?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Yep. You always give me these parathas." She scoffed.
I sighed and said, "You're the one who throws a tantrum for me to make those."
"So? It's still your fault."
I didn't respond. But that didn't stop her.
"Since you're too busy to eat, I thought I'd take care of it for you."
"That's my lunch," I said, standing up.
"Not anymore," she said, grinning. "Whoever eats it first, owns it. Basic logic."
"Kruti," I began, trying to keep my voice calm, "put it down."
"But it's so good," she said, taking another bite. "Did you make this? Or did you order it? Either way, compliments to the chef."
I stared at her, torn between frustration and amusement. "You're unbelievable."
"Thank you," she said with a mock bow.
I sighed, sitting back down. "Fine. Eat it. I don't care."
She beamed, clearly proud of herself. "See? You do care about me."
"I don't," I said flatly, picking up my pen again.
"Keep telling yourself that, Professor," she teased, winking at me.
As she ate, I tried to focus on my work, but the sound of her chewing and the occasional humming of some random tune was distracting. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as she happily devoured my lunch, her expressions changing with each bite.
"You're staring," she said suddenly, catching me off guard.
"I'm not," I said quickly, looking away.
"You were totally staring," she said, smirking. "It's okay, Dev. I know you secretly think I'm adorable."
I scoffed. "Adorable is not the word I'd use."
She gasped dramatically. "Rude! Here I am, gracing your office with my presence, and this is how you repay me?"
"Grace?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's not the word I'd use either."
"You're impossible," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Says the person eating someone else's lunch," I shot back.
She grinned. "Touche."
After finishing her meal, she leaned back on the couch, patting her stomach. "That was delicious. Thanks for sharing."
"I didn't share. You stole it," I said, crossing my arms.
"Details," she said dismissively, waving her hand.
I shook my head, fighting the small smile tugging at my lips. She noticed, of course.
"Ha! I saw that!" she exclaimed, pointing at me.
"Saw what?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"You smiled," she said triumphantly.
"I didn't," I denied.
"You so did," she insisted. "It was small, but it was there."
"Don't you have something better to do?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
"Nope," she said, popping the 'p.'
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Why do you enjoy annoying me so much?"
"Because you're fun to annoy," she said simply. "You're like one of those grumpy old men who secretly have a soft side."
"I'm not old," I said, narrowing my eyes at her.
"You're 28! 8 years older than me!"
"I didn't want this marriage."
"But you agreed."
"So did you."
"Old man." She smirked.
"Shut up." I scoffed.
"But you're grumpy," she said, grinning.
"Krutiâ"
Before I could finish, she leaned forward and grabbed my face, squishing my cheeks.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my words muffled by her hands.
"You're so cute when you're annoyed," she said, laughing.
I swatted her hands away, my face heating up. "Stop that."
"Aww, is someone blushing?" she teased.
"I'm not blushing," I said firmly, turning back to my papers.
"Sure you're not," she said, her tone sing-song.
She got up from the couch and began wandering around the office, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"You really need to lighten up," she said, picking up a book from the shelf.
"Some of us have responsibilities," I replied, not looking up.
"And some of us know how to have fun," she countered, flipping through the pages.
I glanced at her, my patience wearing thin. "What's your point, Kruti?"
"My point," she said, putting the book back, "is that you need to relax. Smile more. Laugh a little. You know, act human."
"I am human," I said dryly.
"Debatable," she said with a smirk.
As the minutes ticked by, I found myself less irritated and more amused by her antics. Despite my best efforts, she had a way of breaking through my walls, even if it was just to get on my nerves.
"You know," she said, leaning against my desk, "if you keep being this grumpy, I might have to put you up for auction."
I frowned. "Auction?"
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "The Grumpiest Professor Ever. Starting bid: one roti."
I stared at her, unsure if she was serious or just trying to rile me up. "Who would even bid on that?"
"Oh, plenty of people," she said confidently. "Grumpy these days. Very mysterious. Very broody."
"I'm not broody," I said, my voice sharper than intended.
"Sure you're not," she said, grinning.
Before I could respond, she reached out and poked my cheek.
"What now?" I asked, exasperated.
"Just checking if you're real," she said, laughing.
I shook my head, unable to hide the small smile that finally broke through.
"There it is!" she exclaimed, pointing at me.
"Don't get used to it," I said, picking up my pen again.
"Too late," she said, her grin widening.
As the afternoon wore on, I realized something surprising. Despite her constant teasing and interruptions, I didn't mind having her around. If anything, her presence made the monotony of working a little more bearable.
Maybe, just maybe, I didn't mind her as much as I pretended to.