Author's POV-
After finding him in the whole campus she found him in the library sitting on a bench, engrossed in his mobile phone. She cleared her throat, and he looked up, shock flickering in his eyes.
She began, her voice steady, "why did you pay for my trip?"
He blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Who told you? I didn't-"
She cut him off, her patience wearing thin. "Don't give me vague answers. Why would you do something like that?"
Reyansh shifted uncomfortably. "Honestly, that I'm not for giving answers to you."
Her eyebrows frowned " Reyansh, I can't accept this. It's not fair."
He sighed and shrugged not giving the answer. Even he didn't had the answer.
She glared at him. "Listen I don't want your charity." She didn't wanted people to pity her just because she can't afford the trip now.
Reyansh's expression softened. "It's not charity. It's..."...I don't know
Pratiksha's heart wavered between frustration and something she couldn't quite name.
"What if I don't want your help?"
"First of all stop talking like that and It's not like I'm being too-"
"Shut up and listen, I don't want your money or anyone else's. Even I don't want to go there too. So, just take your money back from them, I can't bear anyone's pity." She herself don't know why she's being too rude.
........................
"You went to confront him, right? So, did you thank him?" Niharika asked her when they were in the classroom.
"Nahi, Niharika. Jhagda karke aayi hoon. I don't want anybody to pity me." She huffed.
Niharika's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and reproach. "What? You fought with him? Pratiksha, you shouldn't have done that. Reyansh just wanted to help you. Is this how you treat people who try to help?"
"But he should have asked me first." Her gaze shifted to the window, where leaves danced in the breeze.
"Maybe Reyansh didn't know how to approach you. He doesn't express his emotions too much Pratiksha, I feel bad for him. He wanted you to be part of our circle, to share laughter and camaraderie. He was just trying to help you. As you are my bestfriend, That's it."
The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her realization. She traced the grooves on the desk, feeling the rough edges of her own stubbornness. Perhaps she'd misjudged Reyansh.
She's right. At least I shouldn't have snapped at him, she thought.
............................
Under the dappled shade of the neem tree, Reyansh sat on the bench, engrossed in his books. He was an introvertly-extrovert by nature even the author don't know how is he, finding solace in solitude rather than being with his classmates was the best idea for him right now. The noise and constant interaction drained him, and he preferred meaningful one-on-one conversations over large group dynamics. The gentle rustling of leaves provided a soothing backdrop to the bustling college campus.
Pratiksha's heart raced as she approached him, her footsteps hesitant on the gravel path.
She had replayed their earlier encounter a hundred times-the sharpness of her words, the way she'd dismissed his kindness. Now, guilt gnawed at her insides. She needed to make things right.
Swallowing her pride, she settled onto the bench, leaving a respectful gap between them. Her fingers twisted nervously in her dupatta. "Reyansh," she began, her voice barely audible, "I'm I'm sorry..."
He turned, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Sorry? For what?"
"For my rudeness," she blurted out. "You were only trying to help, and I snapped at you. I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to waste your money on me. I can manage on my own, you know."
He studied her, his expression unreadable. His lips curved into a half-smile.
"You and your stubbornness." he huffed.
"I'm not stubborn, I just want to be independent.", she replied nervously.
"But sometimes it's okay to accept.", the book was long forgotten now, something no someone was more interesting than book now.
"I know that! But I still don't like the feeling of owing someone anything.", she was continuously flickering her dupatta in nervousness, Nervous why? because of his gaze.
Her insecurities about her appearance and self-consciousness intensified when his gaze lingered on her. She had always felt like an outsider, her reflection in the mirror a canvas of perceived flaws. Society's standards weighed heavily on her every blemish, every imperfection magnified. The fabric slipping through her nervous fingers.
His gaze steady, unwavering unsettled her. Why did he look at her like that? Did he see the skin tone, the faint scar near her eyebrow, the way her hair never quite obeyed the brush?
His scrutiny felt like a spotlight, illuminating her insecurities. Was he judging her? Pitying her? Or worse, thinking that how ugly she looks?
Pratiksha had grown up hearing whispers-the aunties at family gatherings. 'Too chubby,' they'd say. 'Too dark.' And she'd internalized it all, believing that beauty was a currency she lacked.
He leaned back against the tree trunk, his expression thoughtful. "Independence is admirable," he said, "but sometimes, it's okay to lean on others. Accepting help doesn't diminish your strength."
He shifted closer, their knees almost touching. Almost. "You don't owe me anything," he murmured.
"Still, it's like I don't want to just you know-" she sighed, she's too nervous to speak anything.
"Listen, I can't take the money back two reasons- First, It's embarrassing for me I don't know why and second, I don't want to."
"But I can't I should..umm..I" she stuttered.
He shifted closer, he watched her keenly. "So, you want to pay me back?"
Her hesitation was a fragile bridge between vulnerability and pride. "I guess I should," she said, her words almost a whisper. "It's not fair otherwise."
His next question caught her off guard, and her cheeks flushed. "And how exactly do you plan on repaying me?" His eyes danced with mischief, and her mind raced.
What did he mean? What did he want?
She stammered, flustered. "You know what I meant. I meant, like... I can do anything for you in return."
He bit his inner cheek, fighting the urge to laugh. "Hmm, something like what?" His proximity was intoxicating, and her pulse quickened. She played along, her nerves and curiosity waltzing together.
"I don't know," she replied, her voice barely audible. "Anything. Whatever you want."
His gaze held hers, unwavering. "Anything?"
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HMM..ANYTHING?
WAIT TILL DADDY GIVES THE COMMAND!!!
OKIEE GUYS, THAT'S FOR TODAY'S CHAPTER.
DO VOTE AND COMMENT Please
IT'S CHALLENGING TO WRITE THE STORY IN NIGHT WHEN YOUR WHOLE FAMILY IS SLEEPING AND YOU HAVE YOUR ROOM'S DOOR OPEN.
AND THE WORST THING IS YOU HAVE TO GO SCHOOL TOMMOROW.
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