The morning sun rose lazily over the campus, spilling golden light over the rusted grills of hostel balconies and the dew-drenched grass. The week was crawling into mid-semester chaos - assignments piled up, professors crankier than usual, and students caught somewhere between exhaustion and caffeine-fueled rebellion.
Rhea woke to the sharp trill of her alarm at 7:00 AM. Groaning, she reached out from under her blanket and slammed the snooze button. For a moment, she lay there, the weight of dreams lingering like a stubborn mist - dreams that featured a certain annoyingly charming boy with messy hair and a crooked grin.
She shook her head. Get it together, Sharma.
By the time she reached class, the usual morning buzz was in full swing. Students stood in small huddles, swapping notes, gossip, and the latest campus rumors. Anaya waved her over from their usual desk near the window.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Anaya grinned, pushing a cup of coffee toward her. "You look like you wrestled with your pillow all night."
"I probably did," Rhea muttered, taking a grateful sip. "Thanks."
Anaya shot her a knowing look. "Dreaming of a certain basketball boy, were we?"
"Will you shut up?"
Anaya just waggled her eyebrows.
Before Rhea could defend herself, Kabir strolled into the classroom, duffel bag slung casually over one shoulder, his hair damp as if he'd barely made it out of the shower. His eyes scanned the room, pausing for a fraction of a second when they landed on Rhea.
He smirked.
And Rhea felt her heart do that stupid flutter thing again.
"Stop it," she muttered under her breath, focusing on her notebook.
The lecture began, with Professor Khurana droning on about symbolism in modern literature. Rhea tried to concentrate, scribbling notes, but Kabir's occasional glances from two rows back made it impossible.
Midway through, a folded paper landed on her desk.
"Cold coffee after class? You owe me for yesterday."
Rhea rolled her eyes but felt the edges of her lips curl. She scribbled back.
"I don't owe you anything, Malhotra."
The paper made its way back. His reply:
"Fine. I'll consider it charity."
She didn't reply this time, tucking the paper into her notebook, but a smile betrayed her.
---
Rhea tried hard to concentrate as Professor Khurana's voice floated through the room, speaking about metaphors and literary devices. Her pen moved mechanically across the page, jotting down half-baked notes, but she could feel the weight of a certain someone's gaze on her.
Slowly, she peeked sideways.
Kabir was leaning back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers, a crooked grin playing on his lips as he caught her eye. The absolute smugness of him.
Rhea scowled and mouthed, What?
Kabir tilted his head, raised his brows, and mouthed back, Boring class, Sharma.
She bit the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing.
He picked up his notebook and dramatically scribbled something, before subtly tearing out the page and sliding it down to the guy in front of him, who passed it along like it was a top-secret note from an underground spy network.
Rhea unfolded the paper.
"If this lecture gets any more exciting, I might fall into a coma. Save me."
She shook her head, grabbed her pen, and wrote:
"Your brain's probably already in a coma. Focus, Malhotra."
The paper made its way back. She didn't even bother looking up.
When it returned, his reply made her snort:
"Focus? When you're sitting three desks ahead, looking like you stepped out of a rom-com? Not possible."
Rhea rolled her eyes so hard she feared they might stay that way.
Anaya nudged her. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Rhea whispered, hiding the note. "Just Kabir being Kabir."
"Oh? Cute Kabir?"
"Will you stop!"
But she could feel the warmth rising to her cheeks.
Professor Khurana, unaware of the silent war being waged across his classroom, continued with his lecture, scribbling on the board.
Rhea forced herself to look ahead.
Five minutes later, something tapped her foot.
She looked down.
A small eraser lay there. She glanced back. Kabir gave her a lopsided grin and pointed at his watch, then gestured toward the canteen.
Rhea raised a brow.
He mouthed, After class.
She rolled her eyes again but this time... she didn't say no.
---
As soon as the bell rang, marking the end of the lecture, Rhea barely had time to gather her books before Kabir was at her side, leaning one hand on her desk.
"Cold coffee time, Sharma," he grinned. "Don't pretend you've forgotten."
"I didn't agree to it," Rhea countered, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder.
"You didn't say no either," he pointed out smugly.
Anaya coughed behind them. "Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds to it."
Rhea whipped around. "Anaya!"
But her best friend was already walking away, tossing them a mischievous wink over her shoulder.
Kabir laughed. "I like her. She's got taste."
"Keep dreaming, Malhotra."
They made their way toward the campus canteen, dodging the lunchtime crowd of students carrying plates of chowmein, samosas, and overflowing cups of tea. The canteen was a cheerful, noisy chaos of conversations, clinking cutlery, and blaring music from a dusty old speaker.
Kabir found them an empty table in a corner, dropping his bag onto the seat beside him. "Cold coffee and fries?"
"Who said I'm buying you fries?" Rhea challenged, narrowing her eyes.
Kabir leaned in, elbows on the table. "Come on, Sharma. It's tradition. Cold coffee without fries is like... you without that permanently annoyed face."
She gasped, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me! This is my natural face."
"Oh, it's very natural," he teased, grinning. "Resting grumpy face."
"You're impossible."
"And you secretly like it."
Rhea pointed a warning finger at him. "Keep talking and I'll switch your cold coffee with plain milk."
"Wow. Brutal. You're scary when you're in a mood."
She snorted, shaking her head, but a smile tugged at her lips.
A waiter appeared, and Kabir placed their order without asking. "Two cold coffees, extra chocolate syrup. And large fries."
Rhea gave him a look. "Bossy, aren't you?"
"You'll thank me," he said smugly, leaning back in his chair. "I have excellent taste. In food. And... other things."
She raised a brow. "Other things?"
"Like choosing canteen company."
Rhea shook her head, laughing despite herself. "You really are too much."
The cold coffee arrived, tall glasses with little umbrellas stuck on top, and a basket of golden fries. Rhea picked one up and pointed it at him.
"You have ten minutes. I have to finish my English assignment."
Kabir smirked. "Challenge accepted."
They bantered, teasing each other between sips of coffee and stolen fries. He kept making ridiculous faces, trying to get her to laugh mid-sip, and she swatted his arm when he succeeded.
By the time they finished, a light drizzle had begun outside, making the campus look washed and dreamy.
Kabir glanced toward the window. "Rain. Damn. You brought it, didn't you?"
Rhea smiled at the soft rain hitting the glass. "Maybe I did."
He grinned. "Walk me to class, Sharma."
"I'm not your bodyguard."
"But you could be. You look fierce."
She rolled her eyes, but stood up anyway.
---
The drizzle had turned steady by the time they stepped out of the canteen. Raindrops dappled the stone pathway, creating tiny ripples in the puddles. A few students dashed past them, shrieking as the cold drops hit their skin.
Kabir pulled his duffel strap higher on his shoulder and shot Rhea a grin. "Scared of a little rain, Sharma?"
"Hardly," she sniffed, adjusting her dupatta and pulling her bag over her head like a makeshift shield.
He laughed. "You're going to ruin your notes like that."
"Well, unless you've invented teleportation, I don't see any other option."
Kabir hesitated for a second, then tugged off his hoodie in one swift move and tossed it over her head.
Rhea blinked, caught off guard as the soft, rain-scented fabric landed on her hair.
"What- Kabir!"
"Relax. I'm being chivalrous," he smirked. "Besides, you'll catch a cold. And then you'll blame me. It's damage control."
Rhea yanked the hoodie off her head, holding it out to him. "I'm fine."
"Wear it," he insisted, his voice softer this time, a teasing edge still there but underlined by something warmer. "Seriously."
She hesitated, then sighed, slipping it over her head. The hoodie hung a little loose, the sleeves covering half her hands. It smelled like fresh rain and mint aftershave.
Kabir grinned, his eyes twinkling. "There. You look less like an angry kitten now."
Rhea glared at him but felt her lips twitch. "And you look like someone who lost a fight with the rain."
He laughed, running a hand through his damp hair. "I always win my fights. This rain is just persistent."
They started walking toward their department building, raindrops pattering on the stone pathway around them.
"So, Sharma," Kabir began, bumping his shoulder against hers lightly, "if I ask really nicely, will you admit you missed me yesterday?"
"In your dreams."
"Oh, I do dream about you," he teased shamelessly, giving her a mock-dramatic sigh.
Rhea gasped. "You're unbelievable!"
"Unbelievably charming," he corrected, winking.
They made it to the steps of her department, and she shrugged the hoodie off, holding it out to him. "Thanks for the... temporary rental."
Kabir took it but didn't pull it back immediately. Their fingers brushed. Just for a second, but it was enough for Rhea's pulse to skip.
He cleared his throat. "Uh... you can keep it if you want."
"I don't need your pity hoodie, Malhotra," she retorted, though the warmth in her chest lingered.
He grinned. "Fine. I'll claim it back at coffee tomorrow."
"Who says there'll be a coffee tomorrow?"
"There will be. I'm persistent too."
Rhea rolled her eyes but smiled as she turned toward the building. "Later, Kabir."
"Later, Sharma."
---
The evening rolled in lazily, the rain finally letting up as dusk settled over the campus. The sky was painted in shades of lavender and deep indigo, and the hostel corridors glowed softly under the yellow lights.
Rhea lay sprawled on her bed, hair damp from the rain, scrolling through Instagram mindlessly. Memes, reels, classmates' stories. She paused at a familiar name lighting up her notifications.
kabir_malhotra sent you a message.
She stared at it for a second, her heart doing that traitorous little skip again.
Don't overthink it, Sharma.
She tapped the message open.
Kabir:
Cold coffee's incomplete without your constant scowling. Might file a complaint.
Rhea snorted, typing back.
Rhea:
Says the guy who can't go one lecture without acting like he's in a stand-up comedy show.
His reply came almost instantly.
Kabir:
What can I say? The classroom's dull without someone like you to annoy.
Rhea:
Flattery won't get you more fries tomorrow.
Kabir:
Damn. I was hoping the hoodie would earn me some points.
She smiled in spite of herself, typing slower this time.
Rhea:
Thanks for that, by the way. It was... sweet.
There was a pause. Then his message popped up.
Kabir:
Don't mention it. Looked like you could use rescuing from your own stubbornness.
Rhea:
I'm perfectly capable, Malhotra.
Kabir:
Never doubted that. Doesn't mean I can't be around when you need backup.
She blinked at the screen, warmth blooming in her chest.
Rhea:
You're not as annoying as I thought, you know.
Kabir:
Careful, Sharma. That almost sounded like a compliment.
Rhea:
Don't get used to it.
Kabir:
Too late. It's screenshotted.
She laughed, imagining his smug grin behind that text.
Kabir:
By the way... you looked good in my hoodie.
Her heart fluttered.
Rhea:
Don't push your luck.
Kabir:
Worth a shot.
They exchanged a few more messages - about classes, memes, and plans for the weekend fest coming up on campus. The conversation felt easy, like slipping into a warmth she hadn't realized she'd been craving.
Finally, as the hour crept past midnight, Kabir sent one last message.
Kabir:
You're my favorite part of college, Sharma. Sleep well.
She stared at it, a smile spreading across her lips.
Rhea:
Goodnight, Malhotra.
And with that, she locked her phone, heart still racing, and drifted off to sleep.
---
Kabir tossed his phone on the bed, a stupid grin still lingering on his face. He ran a hand through his hair, the memory of her smile, her eyes sparkling in the rain, refusing to leave his mind.
He opened his notes app.
He did this sometimes - wrote down words he'd never say out loud. And somehow, tonight felt like one of those nights.
He typed:
There's a kind of quiet in you,
that sings louder than storms.
A fierceness in your laugh,
and softness you hide like a secret.
I want to memorize the way your eyes argue
before your lips do,
the way you tuck your hair behind your ear
when you're pretending not to care.
And maybe it's reckless,
this wanting,
but some people aren't meant to be forgotten.
Some names,
are meant to be written on hearts,
not pages.
He stared at it, a soft, crooked smile on his face, then locked his phone.
"Goodnight, Sharma," he whispered into the empty room, before lying back, the words lingering between his heart and the ceiling.
---
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