Emails, Eye Rolls, and Encounters
RIVAL HEARTS
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Her entire body stiffened. No. No. No. This is not happening.
She turned to Advait, who looked equally taken aback. Her pulse quickened, and she gripped the edge of her desk as if it could somehow anchor her. The past came rushing inâwhispers of laughter that wasnât kind, memories of days she had spent burying her pain in ink and paper. And now, out of all the people in this college, she had to work with him?
Her throat felt tight, but she forced herself to speak.
"Sir," she raised her hand, keeping her voice steady despite the storm inside, "Iâd prefer working alone. I donât need a partner for this."
Professor Mehta looked at her over his glasses, his expression unwavering. "This is a collaboration project, Aashna. No exceptions. You and Dhruvin both are the best in your respective fields. I expect great results."
She barely heard him. The moment felt stretched, unbearable. She wasnât looking at him anymoreâshe could feel the weight of another gaze. Hesitant, reluctant, she turned her head toward where Dhruvin sat.
His usual detached expression was in place, but there was something behind itâcuriosity, intrigue. He wasnât smirking, wasnât mocking. He was simply watching her.
And she hated it.
She hated how casual he looked, as if this was just another assignment. She hated that he had forgottenâforgotten the way his presence had once been nothing but a shadow standing by as she broke, piece by piece. And more than anything, she hated how, after all these years, he could still make her feel so small.
On the other hand...
Dhruvin leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he processed what just happened. He had just learned her name a few days ago, and now fate had thrown them together for a project?
Aashna. The name suits her. Elegant yet strong.
But she was staring at him like he was the last person on earth she wanted to be in the same room with.
He was still trying to understand why she had reacted so coldly to him. Had they met before? He wracked his brain, but his memories of school were a blur, overshadowed by his own struggles.
And then, her voice cut through his thoughts againâsharp, urgent.
"Sir, please. Anyone but him."
The words stung more than he cared to admit.
Professor Mehtaâs expression hardened. "Itâs final, Aashna. The competition is in three weeks. Work together. No complaints."
Aashna exhaled sharply, jaw clenched, and turned away, already done with this conversation.
Dhruvin watched her, something unfamiliar twisting in his chest. He had met plenty of people who didnât like him, but this? This felt different. Personal.
And he had no idea why.
As the lecture ended, Aashna packed her things quickly, ready to bolt before Dhruvin could say anything. She had no energy for unnecessary conversations, least of all with him. But, of course, he had other plans.
"So, partner," he drawled, effortlessly falling into step beside her, hands tucked into his pockets. "Should we start brainstorming now, or do you need some time to accept your fate?"
She let out a sharp breath, barely sparing him a glance. "Tomorrow. We will meet. Location and timeâIâll share later."
"Wow, mysterious. Mujhe laga sirf main hi attitude deta hoon," he smirked, amusement flickering in his eyes.
She rolled her eyes and picked up her pace, hoping heâd take the hint.
But Dhruvin, being Dhruvin, ran after her. "Wait, wait. How will we communicate? You should give me your number."
She stopped abruptly, turned to face him, and narrowed her eyes. "Zyada smart banne ki zarurat nahi hai. It wonât work."
He clutched his chest dramatically, as if she had physically wounded him. "You wound me, Aashna. Iâm just being practical."
She crossed her arms. "Fine." With exaggerated slowness, she pulled out a piece of paper, scribbled something, and handed it to him.
Dhruvin took it with a triumphant smirk, only for it to drop the second he saw what was written.
"An... email ID? Sach mein? Who even uses email for this?" He looked up at her in disbelief.
She smirked, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Someone who doesnât want you texting them. See you tomorrow, partner."
As she walked away, leaving Dhruvin staring at the paper in his hand, he let out a laugh, shaking his head.
This is going to be very interesting.
But as his laughter faded, he looked down at the email again, his fingers brushing over the ink.
Maybe this wasnât just about the project. Maybe this was his chance. His chance to finally get to know her, to break through her walls, andâmost importantlyâto understand what exactly had happened in the past.
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Authorâs Note
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