63

The entire university garden buzzed with excitement. Strings of fairy lights twinkled in the evening sky, casting a warm glow over the area. The air was filled with the aroma of spicy street food from the stalls, the sound of laughter, and the faint strumming of someone's guitar from a quieter corner. Students in vibrant ethnic wear filled the space—some were gathered around henna stalls, others were cheering for the performers on stage.

The main stage was set, bathed in golden lights, the speakers booming with the energy of back-to-back performances. A group had just finished a semi-classical piece, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Backstage, Tara stood with Aisha and Aria, adjusting the pleats of her saree one last time.

Aisha nudged her playfully. "Feeling nervous?"

Tara smirked. "Nah, I'm good."

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Not even a little?"

Tara shook her head confidently. "I love dancing. I'm just here to have fun."

Aisha grinned. "That's my girl. Let's go kill it."

The three girls exchanged a quick nod before stepping onto the stage as their music started playing—a high-energy mix of "Nagada Sang Dhol", "Desi Girl", and "London Thumakda".

The crowd roared as the beats dropped, and the girls moved in sync, their expressions lively, their energy infectious. Tara danced effortlessly, her saree twirling around her with every spin. Her movements were fluid yet powerful, her confidence evident in every step. She smiled as she danced, her eyes shining under the stage lights.

Down in the crowd, Aryan stood watching, completely captivated.

His gaze never left her—not for a second.

"Bro, your girl dances really well," Rohan commented, nudging Aryan.

Aryan barely glanced at him, his lips curling into a smirk. "I know."

Aakash chuckled. "She looks really good today too."

Aryan didn't even blink. "I know."

His eyes were fixed on her, watching the way she moved, the way her laughter rang through the mic when Aisha playfully pulled her into a twirl. The way she was completely in her element.

Rohan watched Aryan watching Tara and shook his head with a chuckle. "Dude, you look like you'd eat her up right here."

Aryan finally looked at him, a teasing smirk on his face. "Those are closed-door things." He winked.

Rohan groaned. "This guy, man."

Aakash laughed. "You two should really try to sneak a moment together today."

Aryan ran a hand through his hair, his eyes still on Tara. "I'll try somehow."

The performance reached its peak with an electrifying finish, and the crowd erupted in loud cheers and applause. Aisha, Aria, and Tara stood on stage, catching their breath as they grinned at each other, before finally stepping down.

As soon as they reached their group, Rohan pulled all three girls into a side hug. "Bro, that was so good! You guys killed it."

Tara grinned. "Thanks, Ro."

Aryan stepped forward, hugging Aisha and Aria briefly. "That was amazing, guys."

Then, he turned to Tara.

Without hesitation, he pulled her into a proper hug. "That was so good, baby," he murmured, his voice low against her ear.

Tara stiffened for half a second before masking it, hoping no one noticed the slight blush rising to her cheeks. But Aryan did.

And he just smirked.

The day was speeding fast. Afternoon turned into evening. The evening was alive with celebration—laughter, music, and the scent of fresh food filling the air. The open garden was bathed in golden hues from the fairy lights strung across the venue, casting a warm glow over the students dancing, chatting, and soaking in the festival atmosphere.

Tara stood with Aisha and Aria, scrolling through the pictures they had taken earlier, when her phone buzzed with an incoming call.

"I'll just be back, I'm getting a call," she said, excusing herself.

"Don't get lost, Cinderella!" Aisha teased with a wink.

Tara rolled her eyes, adjusting the pleats of her royal blue saree as she made her way toward a quieter section of the garden, away from the noise.

The air was crisp as she answered the call.

"Hello?" she said, her voice soft.

The conversation was brief, but as she turned to head back, she barely took a step before—

A firm hand curled around her wrist.

Before she could react, she was pulled back with a strong but careful tug, her back pressing against the cold brick wall behind her.

Her breath hitched.

Her eyes lifted, and she froze.

Aryan.

His hands were planted on either side of her, caging her in effortlessly. His dark eyes burned into hers—intense, unreadable.

Tara's stomach flipped. "Aryan, what are you—"

His gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate. From the deep blue of her saree that shimmered under the lights, to the soft kajal framing her eyes, the delicate bindi between her brows, the earrings that swayed with each shallow breath she took.

His throat bobbed slightly as his eyes lingered.

"You look..." His voice was rough, husky. "...dangerously beautiful."

Tara felt her pulse hammer against her ribs. "Move," she whispered, forcing her voice to stay steady.

He didn't.

Instead, he leaned in slightly, just enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him.

"Why do you keep running from me, star?" he murmured.

"I'm not running," she shot back, even though her pulse betrayed her.

His lips curled slightly. "No?"

His fingers lifted, brushing against the edge of her earring, before trailing down to her jaw, tilting it slightly. His thumb grazed her cheekbone, featherlight, like he was memorizing the feel of her skin.

Tara's breath stuttered.

"Then why won't you look at me?" he whispered.

Her fingers curled into her saree. "Aryan..."

His name left her lips shakily, and Aryan exhaled sharply, his forehead nearly brushing against hers.

"Do you even know what you do to me?" he murmured, voice low and raw.

Tara swallowed.

Her heart was hammering. Her lips parted slightly, and Aryan's eyes darkened as they flickered to them.

The air between them crackled.

His nose brushed against hers.

The distance between them dissolved.

She felt his breath against her lips, warm, teasing—

And then—

Aryan's phone buzzed.

The sharp vibration shattered the moment like glass.

Tara's eyes flew open, and she turned her head away instantly, trying to slip past him.

But Aryan was faster.

His grip on her wrist tightened, keeping her locked in place as he pulled out his phone with his free hand and answered.

His eyes never left hers.

"Yeah?" he said casually, his voice smooth, unaffected.

Tara tried to look anywhere but at him, tried to steady her erratic heartbeat, but then—

Aryan's lips curved into a smirk, and his next words were slow, deliberate.

"Mmm... yeah. Almost had it."

Tara's breath hitched.

His fingers traced down her wrist.

"Just needed a bit more time. But don't worry—I'll finish the assignment."

Her stomach twisted, her cheeks burned, and her eyes darted up to meet his—shocked, rattled.

Aryan's gaze held hers like a challenge.

When the call ended, she whispered, "Let me go, Aryan."

He smirked and leaned in, his lips brushing against her cheek in a slow, lingering kiss. She could almost feel his heartbeat against her own.

His breath fanned over her skin as he whispered, "Next time... it won't be your cheek."

Tara sucked in a sharp breath, her entire body tensing.

Before she could even react, Aryan finally let go, stepping back with a smug, knowing smirk.

Without a word, Tara turned and walked away quickly, her heart thundering in her chest.

Aryan watched her go, his smirk still playing at his lips.

💜