The terrace café was dimly lit with fairy lights strung across wooden beams, their glow flickering like fireflies against the late evening sky.
The city below hummed faintly with traffic, but up here, everything felt oddly still—as though the world had paused, waiting for something monumental to happen.
Satish stood by the railing, his usually composed frame taut with nerves. The evening breeze was cool, yet his palms were damp, and beads of sweat gathered at his temples. He tugged at his collar absentmindedly, something he never did—not even while delivering three-hour lectures in front of professors, principals, and corporate dignitaries. He had faced the most daunting of audiences without a tremor in his voice, yet now, for the first time, his heart was betraying him.
It wasn’t the fear of rejection. It wasn’t even the fear of breaking some invisible rule between them—it was the sheer weight of what he was about to say. Four words that he had rehearsed countless times in his head but never dared to let slip past his lips.
“I love you, Sharayu”
His jaw clenched as he exhaled slowly, trying to steady the storm brewing inside him. His heartbeat thudded, not in rhythm, but in wild, uneven beats that made him feel like a boy again—reckless, desperate, vulnerable.
A part of him still couldn’t digest it—that this mere girl, this one student, had managed to dismantle every wall he had built around himself.
She had seeped into his thoughts, his discipline, his carefully structured world.
She had become his weakness, his want, his unshakable truth.
He glanced toward the stairway that led up to the terrace. Any second now, she would appear. And the moment she did, he knew every ounce of control he prided himself on would collapse.
The sweat on his brow wasn’t from fear—it was from anticipation. Because tonight, for the first time, Satish Singh Rajvanshi wasn’t the professor, the respected HOD, or the unshakable man everyone looked up to.
Tonight, he was just a man about to bare his heart to the girl who unknowingly owned it.
Sharayu stepped onto the rooftop, her lavender dress catching the soft glow of the fairy lights.
She paused for a second, letting her eyes take in the sight before her.
The warmth of the tiny golden bulbs, the gentle breeze playing with the hem of her dress, the soft instrumental music humming in the background—it was beautiful.
And the man responsible for it?
Satish stood near the table, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her.
She stepped forward, the soft glow of fairy lights wrapping around her like a spotlight meant only for her. The lavender dress she wore floated with the evening breeze, clinging and falling in all the right places, as if the fabric had been stitched with her silhouette in mind. Every thread looked like it belonged to her—tailored not by some designer, but by destiny itself.
Satish’s throat went dry. He had imagined her a thousand times, but nothing had prepared him for this—her, standing there with the innocence of a girl and the allure of a woman, both stitched seamlessly into one breathtaking sight.
His chest tightened painfully, a mix of awe and ache, as though the universe was mocking him: look what she does to you.
And then came the expression that nearly killed him. A tiny pout rested on her lips, unintentional yet devastating. Those lips—the very lips he had stolen glances at during lectures, the ones that had mocked him, teased him, tested his patience—now curved into something so disarmingly cute that he almost groaned aloud. He had always told himself he was above such distractions, that he could resist temptation. But tonight, under these lights, with that pout pulling him closer like a magnet, resistance was a foreign concept.
His heartbeat stuttered, uneven, as his gaze refused to move away. Every instinct screamed to look away, to compose himself, but he stood frozen, drinking her in as if she were the only thing that existed.
She hadn’t even said a word yet, but she had already stolen the ground from beneath him.
Meanwhile, Sharayu—for a second, just a second, her breath hitched.
Because the way he was looking at her…
Like she was the only thing that existed in this moment.
Like he had been waiting for her all his life.
Like she was his.
And just like that—her resolve crumbled.
She had been so determined to be mad at him.
She had planned so many angry words, so many sarcastic remarks, so many complaints.
But now?
Now, standing here, looking at this place, looking at him…
She couldn’t do it.
She just couldn’t.
So instead, she simply said—
“You’re an idiot.”
Satish smirked. “And you’re late.”
Sharayu sighed, stepping closer. “You do realize this doesn’t fix anything, right?”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “So, you don’t like it?”
Damn him.
Damn that cocky tone.
Damn that playful smirk.
Damn those blue eyes.
She hated that he knew she liked it.
She hated that he knew her so well.
So, she crossed her arms and said, “I never said that.”
Satish chuckled, shaking his head before pulling out a chair. “Sit.”
Satish leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
“I didn’t know today is your birthday,” he said, his voice low.
Sharayu’s fingers toyed with the edge of the tablecloth. “You didn’t.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“You still did.”
“I know,” he admitted, tilting his head. “And you were mad at me for it.”
Sharayu scoffed. “Of course, I was! Everyone knew! Even my juniors knew! But you—you had no clue!”
He sighed. “I’m an idiot.”
Her lips twitched. “That’s an understatement.”
He chuckled, shaking his head before reaching into his pocket.
And when he pulled out a small blue velvet box, her entire body froze.
Her heart skipped.
“What… is that?” she asked cautiously.
Satish smirked. “Open it.”
Sharayu hesitated. “If this is something ridiculous, I swear—”
“Just open it, Sharayu.”
She huffed, grabbing the box and flipping it open.
And inside…
Inside was a tiny silver bracelet, delicate and simple, with a tiny engraved charm attached.
She picked it up, inspecting the charm closely.
And when she saw the engraving, her breath caught.
It was a tiny book and her initial on it.
Because she loved reading.
Because he knew.
Sharayu swallowed, looking back up at him.
“How did you know?” she whispered.
Satish’s expression softened. “Of course, I know.”
And suddenly…
Suddenly, she didn’t feel like fighting anymore.
She didn’t feel like being mad.
She just felt warm.
Satish reached forward, gently taking the bracelet from her hands.
“Give me your hand,” he said softly.
Sharayu hesitated but lifted her wrist.
He carefully fastened the bracelet around her wrist, his fingers brushing against her skin.
And suddenly, everything felt different.
The air felt thicker.
The space between them felt smaller.
Her heart was beating too fast.
She swallowed. “Sir—”
“Happy birthday, Sharayu.”
Her breath hitched.
And before she could say anything—before she could process the intensity in his gaze—
He lifted her wrist
And pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the skin right above the bracelet.
Sharayu froze.
Every inch of her froze.
Because that…
That was dangerous.
That was crossing a line.
That was…
That was something she couldn’t just ignore.
“Sir…” she whispered, her voice unsteady.
He didn’t pull away.
Instead, he murmured against her skin—
“Tell me to stop.”
She couldn’t.
She wouldn’t.
Because the truth?
She didn’t want him to.
And he knew that.
Because the smirk on his lips when he finally pulled away?
It was victorious.
Sharayu sat there, her wrist still tingling from where his lips had touched.
Her breath felt stuck in her throat.
Her heartbeat was a mess.
She wanted to say something—anything—but her brain had simply stopped working.
And the way he was looking at her?
Like he had won.
Like he had been waiting for this moment.
Like he had no regrets.
Damn him.
Damn him for knowing her so well.
She needed to breathe. Now.
So, she pushed her chair back and stood up.
“I should go,” she blurted, turning towards the stairs.
But before she could take a step—
His hand wrapped around her wrist.
A gentle but firm hold.
The same wrist where he had kissed her just moments ago.
The same wrist that now carried the bracelet he gave her.
“Not so fast,” he murmured, standing up too.
His voice was dangerous.
Low.
Almost a whisper.
Sharayu swallowed, trying not to react to the closeness between them.
“I have to go,” she repeated, her voice not nearly as strong as she wanted it to be.
“Not yet.”
Her head snapped towards him. “Why?”
Satish tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes never leaving hers.
“You still haven’t told me why you ignored my calls.”
Her breath hitched.
Oh.
She thought he’d let that go.
She thought she had successfully escaped that topic.
Apparently… not.
“Sharayu,” he pressed, stepping closer.
Her body stiffened.
“I—I was just busy,” she lied.
Satish raised an eyebrow. “Busy ignoring me?”
Sharayu looked away.
“Interesting,” he mused. “So, ignoring me was more important than telling me it was your birthday?”
Her jaw clenched. “You forgot. What does it matter now?”
“It matters,” he said, his voice firm.
Sharayu turned back to him, frustration bubbling up. “Why?! Why does it matter so much to you?!”
For a moment, he just stared at her.
A tense, silent second.
And then—
He smirked.
The same infuriating smirk that made her want to both punch him and kiss him.
“You want to know why?” he murmured, stepping even closer.
Her breath hitched.
He was too close.
Too close.
“Because I don’t like being ignored by you,” he whispered, his fingers lightly brushing against her bracelet.
Sharayu’s heart stopped.
“But you’re my professor,” she blurted.
His smirk widened. “And?”
“And this is wrong.”
“Is it?” he hummed.
Yes.
Yes, it was.
But did she say that?
No.
Because the truth?
The truth was that she liked it.
She liked the way he looked at her.
She liked the way he teased her.
She liked the way his voice sent shivers down her spine.
She liked how he made her feel like she was the only person in the world.
And he knew.
Of course, he knew.
Because Satish was always one step ahead of her.
And that’s what made him dangerous.
That’s what made him impossible to resist.
“Say it,” he murmured.
Her eyes snapped to his. “Say what?”
“Say you don’t feel anything when I do this.”
Before she could process his words, his fingers lightly trailed up her arm.
Slow.
Gentle.
Deliberate.
Sharayu shivered.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Damn him.
Damn him for being so good at this.
She should push him away.
She should walk out of here.
She should do something—anything—except just stand here and melt.
But she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
“That’s what I thought,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to her ear.
Sharayu’s breath hitched.
Her knees felt weak.
She was losing.
And he knew it.
So, she did the only thing she could.
She turned around and rushed towards the stairs.
This time, he let her go.
But just as she reached the door, he called out—
“Sharayu.”
She stopped.
Didn’t turn.
Didn’t breathe.
Just waited.
His next words? They sent chills down her spine.
“Run all you want, but you’ll always come back to me.”
Her fingers trembled.
Her heartbeat was a mess.
But she didn’t respond.
Sharayu stopped.
Her breath hitched.
Her pulse thundered.
She felt it.
Something shifted.
Something changed.
And then—
“Sharayu, I love you.”
The words hung in the air.
Her stomach dropped.
Her knees weakened.
Her lips parted.
He. Said. It.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Hard.
Fast.
Wild.
But Satish?
He wasn’t done.
No.
He was just getting started.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he whispered, stepping closer.
His voice—low, rough, dangerous.
Sharayu’s breath came in shallow gasps.
She couldn’t speak.
She couldn’t move.
Because the way he was looking at her?
Like she was the only person in the world.
Like she was his.
Like he had no regrets.
“I fell for you, Sharayu,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion.
“Slowly, recklessly, mercilessly.”
She swallowed hard.
“I don’t even know when it happened,” he admitted. “At first, you were just a student—someone I wasn’t even supposed to notice. But how could I not?”
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
“You were impossible to ignore.”
Sharayu shivered.
“You frustrated me,” he continued. “You challenged me, annoyed me, drove me insane. But you also—”
He exhaled sharply.
“You made me feel alive.”
His fingers grazed her wrist.
Soft.
Warm.
Possessive.
“You stole my peace,” he whispered. “And you didn’t even realize it.”
Sharayu sucked in a breath.
“I knew I was in trouble that night on our trip,” he confessed. “When those filthy men looked at you like that. When you trembled in fear. When you clung to me, trusting me to protect you.”
His jaw tightened.
“I wanted to kill them,” he admitted, his voice dark.
Sharayu’s heart skipped a beat.
“I wanted to burn the whole world down for making you feel unsafe.”
Her throat went dry.
“And then—”
His eyes darkened.
“The accident.”
Her breath hitched.
“I can’t even explain what I felt when I heard about it,” he whispered, his fingers tightening around her wrist. “The ground beneath me shook. My mind went blank. My world—”
He let out a bitter chuckle.
“—collapsed.”
Sharayu’s eyes burned.
Tears threatened to spill.
“I realized then,” he admitted. “I realized that I would rather die than live in a world where you don’t exist.”
Her chest ached.
“You became a sinful obsession, Sharayu,” he confessed, his voice husky. “I hate it when someone else makes you laugh. I hate it when someone stands too close to you. I hate it when you talk to him.”
She knew exactly who he was talking about.
Hriday.
His name hung in the air unspoken.
“I hate it,” Satish growled. “Because it should be me.”
Sharayu’s heartbeat was a mess.
“Only me.”
His fingers trailed up her arm.
Slow.
Gentle.
Dangerous.
Sharayu shuddered.
She wanted to step back.
She wanted to push him away.
She wanted to run.
But she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Because despite everything—
Despite the heat pooling in her stomach.
Despite the way her body betrayed her.
Despite the chaos inside her chest.
She wanted to hear more.
She wanted to drown in his words.
She wanted to stay.
Satish smirked.
As if he knew.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” he murmured, his fingers grazing her jaw.
Sharayu shivered.
“I see it in your eyes, Sharayu.”
His voice was soft.
Dangerous.
“Your body reacts to me before your mind can stop it.”
Her stomach tightened.
“You look at me like you’re scared,” he whispered, “but you’re not scared of me.”
His fingers trailed down to her collarbone.
“You’re scared of what you feel for me.”
Her breath hitched.
“You can lie to yourself,” he murmured, “but you can’t lie to me.”
Sharayu’s lips trembled.
Her knees felt weak.
She needed to breathe.
She needed to think.
But then—
He leaned in.
His lips brushed against her ear.
Soft.
Barely there.
But enough to make her collapse inside.
“Say something,” he murmured.
His voice sent chills down her spine.
His presence overwhelmed her senses.
His confession destroyed every single wall she had built.
Say something, Sharayu.
Anything.
But the words?
They refused to come.
Because what could she possibly say when the man she had spent months running from…
Had just told her he had been chasing her all along?
Sharayu’s throat was dry. Her mind was in chaos. Her body betrayed her with every rapid heartbeat, with every shiver that ran down her spine.
But still—she managed to whisper, “Why?”
Satish’s smirk faltered. His brows furrowed slightly, eyes darkening.
Sharayu took a shaky breath, stepping back slightly—not that he let her go. His grip on her wrist remained firm, possessive, unyielding.
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Why… a man like you—” she hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper, “would fall for someone like me?”
Silence.
A deafening silence.
Satish just stared at her. His grip on her tightened just a little.
And then—
A laugh.
A low, husky, bitter chuckle.
Sharayu’s breath caught in her throat as he tilted his head slightly, his gaze locked onto hers like she had just said something ridiculous.
“Someone like you?” he echoed, his voice laced with amusement and something deeper. Something intense.
Sharayu’s heart thudded violently.
Satish shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“You’re asking the wrong question, Sharayu.” His voice was soft but sharp. Dangerous, yet hypnotic.
Sharayu frowned. “Wha—”
“If you were in my place,” he cut her off smoothly, taking a slow step forward, making her take a step back, “you wouldn’t wonder why I fell for you.”
Her back hit the wall.
Her breath hitched.
“You’d wonder,” he murmured, leaning in slightly, “how I even got a chance.”
Sharayu’s stomach flipped.
Her hands trembled.
She looked at him, stunned, speechless, completely shaken.
Satish smirked.
“Because, tell me, Sharayu,” he whispered, his fingers trailing up her wrist, his touch barely there, yet burning. “How does a man like me get to be in your orbit?”
His thumb brushed against her pulse point.
Fast.
Erratic.
He felt it.
He knew.
“You walk into a room,” he continued, his eyes never leaving hers, “and suddenly the air changes.”
Sharayu’s stomach tightened.
“You don’t just exist, Sharayu.” His voice was lower now. Deeper. Intoxicating. “You make people feel.”
Her lips parted, but nothing came out.
“I’ve seen it.”
His hand traveled to her elbow, his fingers trailing slowly up her arm.
“I’ve seen how people gravitate toward you. How they smile wider when you’re around. How you make the world brighter.”
Sharayu blinked rapidly, her cheeks flaming.
“You think I had a choice?” Satish scoffed, shaking his head. “You think I just woke up one day and decided to fall for you?”
Sharayu swallowed.
“You make it impossible not to.”
Her breath shuddered.
Satish’s eyes darkened.
“You could’ve been anyone,” he murmured, his fingers now tracing her jawline, his touch feather-light yet electrifying. “A stranger, a passerby, someone who never even glanced my way, and still—”
He exhaled sharply.
“I would’ve found you.”
Sharayu’s heart stuttered.
“I would’ve fallen anyway.”
A shiver ran down her spine.
“You don’t see yourself the way I do,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against her lower lip, making her gasp softly.
His eyes flashed.
“But if you did…”
He leaned in, his lips barely an inch away.
“You’d never ask me that question again.”
Sharayu’s knees almost gave out.
Her mind screamed at her to breathe.
To think. To move.
But she just stood there.
Shaken.
Spellbound.
Completely ruined.
Just when Sharayu thought her heart couldn’t handle more, just when her skin still tingled from his touch, just when the weight of his words sat heavy in her chest—
He stepped back.
Her breath shuddered, the loss of his proximity leaving behind a void she didn’t dare acknowledge.
And then—
Before she could process anything, before she could even blink—
Satish knelt.
In front of her.
Sharayu’s eyes widened.
The world stilled.
Her breath? Completely stolen.
And in his hand…
A ring.
A delicate, platinum ring. Simple, yet elegant. Almost as if it was meant to be on her hand all along.
Sharayu stared.
Was she dreaming?
Did she hit her head somewhere?
Was this real?
Satish, as composed as he always appeared, had something unreadable in his eyes. Something raw. Something unfiltered.
And then—
That smirk.
That damn smirk that had the power to make her lose every rational thought in her head.
But right now?
It wasn’t teasing.
It wasn’t cocky.
It was soft.
Reverent.
Like she was the only thing that mattered in this universe.
Sharayu gulped.
“Sir…” Her voice came out weak, uncertain.
He exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking his head.
“Shh.” His thumb gently brushed over the ring, gaze locked onto hers. “For once, Sharayu, just let me talk.”
She shut up.
Completely.
Satish inhaled deeply, looking at her like she was the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on.
And then he spoke—
“I don’t know when this happened.”
Sharayu’s stomach flipped.
“I don’t know the exact moment, the exact day, or the exact time,” he continued, his voice low, deep, achingly sincere. “But what I do know—”
He smiled.
“—is that somewhere along the way, you ruined me, Sharayu.”
Her chest tightened.
“You walked into my life, unannounced, unplanned, and turned my world upside down.”
She swallowed hard.
“You make me crazy.” He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “I get jealous when someone else makes you laugh. I burn when someone else touches you. And I lose my mind when you act like you don’t see what’s right in front of you.”
Sharayu’s fingers curled into fists.
“I tried fighting it,” he admitted, voice dropping even lower. “God knows I tried.”
A humorless chuckle left his lips.
“But how do you fight something that’s already a part of you?”
Sharayu’s lips parted.
“You, Sharayu,” he whispered, eyes locked onto hers, “are a part of me.”
Her throat tightened.
“And whether you accept this or not, whether you take this ring or throw it away, one thing will never change—”
His gaze darkened.
“You are mine.”
Sharayu’s knees buckled.
The intensity in his voice set fire to every part of her.
Satish let out a deep breath, rubbing his thumb over the ring one last time before holding it up toward her.
“So, Miss ‘I-have-no-idea-why-you-like-me’—” He smirked, his tone light, teasing, but his eyes? Dead serious.
“—what’s it going to be?”
Sharayu just stared.
Mind blank.
Heart in her throat.
She had no words.
No answer.
And Satish—
Satish was just waiting.
With every ounce of patience he had left.
Sharayu’s heart pounded.
Her fingers trembled at her sides.
The air between them felt thick, heavy, suffocating.
Satish was still there, kneeling, waiting, unwavering.
His eyes never left her face—not even for a second.
And she?
She felt like she was about to collapse.
This wasn’t real.
This couldn’t be real.
Satish—her professor, the man who had tormented her with his teasing, drove her crazy with his possessiveness, made her weak with his words—was down on one knee, offering her a ring.
Her breath hitched.
“S-Sir…” she whispered, voice barely audible.
His lips twitched at the way his name sounded from her lips—soft, hesitant, breathless.
But he said nothing.
He just waited.
Waited for her to say something, anything.
She swallowed hard.
Her eyes flickered to the ring.
Simple. Elegant. Perfect.
Her fingers itched to touch it.
But her mind?
Absolute chaos.
“What… what are you doing?” she finally managed to say, her voice shaky.
Satish tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Sharayu sucked in a breath.
Her heart was beating too fast, too loud.
“I—” she started, then stopped.
She couldn’t breathe.
He was serious.
This wasn’t a joke.
This wasn’t some passing moment of madness.
This was real.
And that terrified her.
“Say something,” he murmured, his voice so low, so deep, it sent shivers down her spine.
“I…” Her lips parted.
She looked at him, really looked at him.
At his eyes—so dark, so intense, so full of something undeniable.
At his lips—slightly parted, waiting, patient yet desperate.
At his hand—still holding the ring, still offering her something she didn’t know she deserved.
And suddenly, she felt overwhelmed.
Completely, utterly overwhelmed.
Because this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.
Because this was Satish.
Satish, who made her blush like an idiot.
Satish, who stole her peace with a single look.
Satish, who claimed her as his before she even realized she was his.
Satish, who was now waiting for an answer.
The air between them felt too thick, too charged.
The moment she heard him say those words, her knees nearly buckled.
Her hands felt cold, her heart hammering wildly.
But she didn’t run.
She couldn’t.
Because instead of stepping away—
She stepped forward.
And before she could even think, before her mind could tell her to stop—
She collapsed into him.
Her arms wrapped around his torso, desperate, trembling, lost.
Her fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt, gripping him like he was the only thing holding her together.
Satish froze.
His whole body went rigid.
His breath hitched—like he wasn’t expecting this.
Like he wasn’t prepared for her to break in his arms.
And then…
Sharayu’s voice broke through the stillness, soft, breathless, trembling, carrying the weight of all the emotions she had bottled up for so long.
“You… You have no idea what you do to me…”
The words fell like sparks, igniting something inside him. Satish’s hands, which had hovered in hesitation, slowly rose. A delicate, careful motion, as if approaching something precious and fragile. And then, in one fluid motion, they wrapped around her, pulling her into him, securing her against his chest.
“Sharayu—”
“No,” she whispered, cutting him off. Her small hands clenched tighter into the fabric of his shirt, holding him as if letting go would erase everything. Her forehead pressed against his chest, heart hammering violently against the solid warmth of him.
Her confession tumbled out, uneven, raw, trembling with every word:
“Do you even realize how intimidating you are? How you look at me like I’m the only one in the room? How you walk in with your presence so strong that I forget how to breathe?”
Every syllable was soaked in longing, frustration, and desperate vulnerability. Satish stilled, his chest tightening as if each word had carved a new pulse inside him. His arms held her closer, almost possessively, as if by doing so, he could shield her from every hurt she had endured—even the pain of his absence that day.
Her heart pounded violently in her chest, her eyes burning, her entire body trembling.
Satish stilled.
His grip on her tightened.
"Sharayu…"
"Do you know what I felt today?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
"When everyone wished me but you didn’t? When everyone told me how pretty I looked, but you didn’t? When I kept waiting and waiting… but you never came?"
Satish’s jaw clenched.
His arms around her tightened, almost possessively.
He was about to say something, but—
She wasn’t done.
"Your absence today… it killed me."
Her breath was shaky, her fingers tightening even more into his shirt.
"It felt wrong, Satish Sir. Everything felt wrong without you there. Your aura, your stupid blue eyes, your annoying teasing, your presence…"
She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling against his.
“You were missing, and I hated it,” she breathed, her voice cracking, her fingers digging into him as if to anchor herself in reality.
He couldn’t speak. He simply let her words sink into him, let her raw emotion fill the space between them. His hands moved—one cradling the back of her head, the other pressing against the small curve of her waist—pulling her even closer. Every heartbeat, every tremble of her body pressed against his, etched itself into his memory.
“I tried to ignore it… but then I remembered everything,” she whispered, pulling back just slightly to meet his gaze. Her eyes—bright, wet, desperate—locked onto his, holding him captive.
“I remembered how you were there when those men scared me. How you pulled me behind you, became my shield. How your voice alone sent them running. I remembered every time I tripped—you were there. I remembered your teasing, your words, the way you made me blush. I remembered… you.”
The final word hung in the air, fragile and heavy, a quiet echo of her heart.
Silence fell. One heartbeat. Two. The world seemed to hold its breath with them.
Then Satish moved. His fingers gently, but decisively, gripped her chin, tilting her face upward. His blue eyes, usually playful and controlled, were now dark, intense, and burning with an emotion he could no longer contain.
“And what do you feel now?” he whispered, his voice a deep, intoxicating murmur that wrapped around her like a promise.
Her breath caught. Her lips parted, trembling. And before hesitation could creep in, the words tumbled out, soft but undeniable:
“I love you.”
And just like that—
Satish’s control snapped.
The words hung in the air.
Thick. Heavy. Irrevocable.
“I love you.”
Sharayu’s heart was hammering wildly in her chest, her body betraying her as she realized what she had just done.
She had said it.
No hesitation. No second thoughts.
She had said it out loud.
And Satish?
He froze.
Like he was trying to absorb what she had just admitted.
Like he needed a moment to believe it.
His fingers, still gently holding her chin, tightened their grip.
His breath was uneven, his blue eyes burning into hers.
A heartbeat passed.
Two.
And then—
He exhaled, a slow, dangerous smirk tugging at his lips.
“Say it again.”
Sharayu’s eyes widened.
Her stomach twisted, her face heating up.
“W-What?”
His grip on her chin tightened just a little—just enough to make her realize she wasn’t getting out of this.
“Say it again, Sharayu.”
His voice was deep, husky, dangerous.
A shiver ran down her spine.
She looked away, trying to escape his intense gaze.
But his fingers moved—trailing from her chin to her jaw, down to her throat.
A light, teasing touch.
Not possessive.
Not demanding.
Just enough to make her lose her mind.
Her breath hitched.
Her fingers clenched his shirt.
“Sir…”
“Say it, sweetheart.”
The way the word rolled off his tongue—it sent a violent shudder through her.
Sharayu wanted to die.
She wasn’t built for this.
She wasn’t built for his intensity, his obsession, his insane need for her to say it again.
She gulped, her lips parting.
“I… love you.”
A sharp intake of breath.
The grip on her waist tightened.
And then—
Satish moved.
He was closer, closer, dangerously close.
His forehead nearly touched hers, his breath mingling with hers.
“Do you have any idea… what you’ve just done to me?” he whispered, his voice low, deep, possessive.
Sharayu’s knees weakened.
Her entire body felt like it was on fire.
She tried to step back, to create distance.
But he didn’t let her.
“No, no,” he murmured, shaking his head. “You’re not running away now, Sharayu.”
Her breath came out in shaky gasps.
Her eyes were darting anywhere but his intense gaze.
“Sir, I—”
“You just confessed, sweetheart.”
His smirk widened.
“Now you’re stuck with me forever.”
And before she could process what was happening—
His lips were at her forehead.
A slow. Lingering. Possessive kiss.
It lasted for a long, long moment.
And when he finally pulled away, he whispered—
“Mine.”
The world stood still.
Sharayu’s breath hitched as Satish, the man who had shaken her entire existence, the man who had driven her crazy with his intensity, his possessiveness, his love—slowly, deliberately, knelt before her once again.
Her heart thundered against her ribs, her throat dry, her vision slightly blurred from the sheer overwhelming reality of this moment.
He was on one knee.
And he was looking at her like she was the only thing that ever mattered.
A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips as he took out a velvet box from his pocket and flipped it open.
Inside, resting like a promise, was a delicate platinum ring.
Simple. Elegant.
And undeniably hers.
Sharayu sucked in a breath.
Her hands were trembling, her legs refusing to hold her up.
He must have noticed because his intense blue eyes darkened with satisfaction.
“Give me your hand.”
It wasn’t a request.
It was a quiet command.
A deep, husky, irresistible command.
Her fingers twitched.
Her mind screamed don’t do it.
But her heart?
It had already surrendered.
Slowly, hesitantly, she extended her hand to him.
The moment her trembling fingers touched his, he closed his grip around them, firm, warm, unshakable.
A shudder ran through her as his thumb brushed against her skin, possessively, delicately—like he was memorizing the feel of her.
And then, with agonizing slowness, he slipped the ring onto her finger.
It fit perfectly.
Like it was always meant to be there.
Like she was always meant to be his.
Satish’s eyes never left hers, watching, drinking in every emotion flickering across her face—the disbelief, the hesitation, the deep, soul-consuming love.
And then he spoke.
His voice was low, deep, steady.
“Be mine, Sharayu. Now. Tomorrow. Forever. Make me the luckiest man in the world.”
A sharp inhale.
Sharayu’s lips parted.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
She could feel the weight of his words sinking into her very soul.
Satish, the man who had unknowingly invaded every thought of hers.
The man who had protected her, tormented her, adored her, challenged her.
He was asking her to be his. Forever.
“Say yes.”
A shiver ran down her spine at his demanding tone.
And then, despite herself—despite the overwhelming emotions tearing her apart—
She smiled.
A soft, shaky, utterly helpless smile.
And then—
“Yes.”
The moment the word left her lips, he moved.
He was on his feet in a second, pulling her into his arms, holding her so tightly against him like he was afraid she’d disappear.
His lips pressed against her temple, then her forehead, then the tip of her nose, his warmth, his scent, his presence—engulfing her entirely.
And then, in a whisper that sent shivers down her spine—
“Mine.”
The soft glow of fairy lights bathed the cozy little setup in a golden hue. The air smelled of fresh flowers, vanilla candles, and something purely them.
A small table stood between them, a beautifully decorated cake at its center—chocolate truffle, her favorite, which he asked Rutuja.
The frosting was smooth, adorned with delicate golden sprinkles and white chocolate shavings, with a tiny edible plaque that read:
“Happy Birthday, Love.”
Sharayu’s breath hitched at the word.
Love.
Her cheeks turned pink as she darted a glance at Satish, who was already smirking at her reaction.
He leaned forward, his tall frame dipping just close enough that his voice brushed against her skin as much as his words did. His tone was velvet—low, deep, intimate.
“Make a wish, Sharayu,” he murmured, her name falling from his lips like a caress. “And blow the candle.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Sharayu. The way he said it, like it belonged only to him, like she belonged only to him. Her fingers twisted in her lap, uncertain, restless.
How was she supposed to make a wish when the only thing her heart had ever secretly longed for was a man who understood her better than she understood herself, someone she could finally call hers—and that very man was sitting across from her, watching her like she was his entire world?
His smirk curved slowly at the corner of his mouth, that dangerous blend of teasing and tenderness, as though he could read every unspoken thought on her face. But then his expression softened, almost reverent, his eyes dark yet unbearably gentle.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
Her lashes fluttered shut, and in that fragile silence, the whole world seemed to still. The candle crackled faintly, her breathing uneven, her chest rising and falling as if she was afraid he’d hear the wish her heart screamed in silence.
She leaned forward, her breath trembling, lips pursed delicately. And Satish… he couldn’t look away. He memorized every detail—the way her hair framed her face, the soft glow of her skin in the candlelight, the innocence and fire colliding in her. He wanted to etch this vision of her into his soul.
Then, with one soft exhale, the flame surrendered.
But for Satish, something else ignited. A fire that had nothing to do with candles and everything to do with the girl sitting before him.
Her eyes blinked open slowly after blowing out the candle, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. The place dipped into a softer glow, shadows melting into corners, but for Satish… nothing else existed except her.
She sat there, lips parted, her breath still uneven from that single exhale, her cheeks faintly flushed. She looked fragile and powerful all at once.
He leaned back a little, but only to tilt his head, his piercing gaze locked entirely on her. Then, his lips curved into a sly, devastating smile.
“So?” His voice was low, rough velvet. “You made your wish?”
Her throat tightened. She gave the smallest nod, her fingers twisting together in her lap.
Satish’s smirk deepened. He leaned in again, closing the distance until she could feel the warmth of his breath fanning against her skin. “And… what did you wish for, Sharayu?”
Her breath hitched at the way he said her name—possessive, tender, intoxicating. She quickly shook her head, lowering her gaze. “I-I can’t tell you.”
His chuckle rumbled low, sending shivers down her spine. “Ah,” he drawled, his voice teasing yet heavy, “because then it won’t come true?”
She bit her lip, still refusing to look at him.
Satish’s hand moved, almost of its own accord, fingers brushing against her wrist, then curling around it with a feather-light yet possessive touch. He leaned closer still, his lips now a breath away from her ear.
“Or…” he whispered, his tone sinful, “is it because you wished for me?”
Her entire body stilled. Her chest rose sharply, her lips parting—but no words came out.
Satish smiled against the silence, his thumb brushing slowly along her pulse point, feeling it race under his touch. “Tell me I’m wrong, Sharayu,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark amusement, “and I’ll believe you.”
But she couldn’t.
She didn’t.
Because her silence—her trembling—her flushed cheeks—her wide, vulnerable eyes—said it all.
And Satish? He saw it. He felt it.
He smirked. “Just as I thought,” he whispered, his lips brushing so close to her ear she almost whimpered. “You didn’t need to blow out that candle for your wish to come true… because I’m already yours.”
“Cut the cake, Birthday Girl,” he said, his voice low, teasing.
Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up the knife.
Satish, standing behind her, reached forward, his fingers brushing against hers, guiding her, covering her hand with his.
Her pulse spiked.
The knife sliced through the soft layers, the rich chocolate filling oozing out like melted silk.
He picked up a small piece, his gaze locked on hers.
“Open your mouth,” he murmured.
A fresh wave of heat crawled up her neck.
The audacity of this man!
Sharayu glared at him but, helplessly obedient to his presence, parted her lips slightly.
He placed the cake in her mouth, his fingers grazing the softness of her lips.
She shivered.
Her mind screamed this is dangerous, this is reckless.
But Satish?
He looked entirely unaffected. Like this was exactly how things should be.
Then, without hesitation, he broke a piece and held it up to his own lips.
And before she could even react—
He bit into it, from the same spot she had.
Her heart stopped.
That was intimate.
Too intimate.
He licked the corner of his lips, his blue eyes darkening.
“Sweet,” he muttered.
She didn’t know if he meant the cake or her.
They clicked a few pictures together—him pulling her dangerously close, her blushing at their proximity.
And then, just as she was about to step back, just as she thought the night was over—
Satish stepped forward.
Close.
So close that she could feel the heat radiating off him.
“Sharayu,” he murmured.
Her breath hitched.
“Hmm?” she barely whispered.
His hand brushed against her cheek.
A gentle, lingering touch.
The moment hung between them like the pause before a storm—thick, charged, inevitable.
Satish’s voice dropped lower than a whisper, almost a growl, when he asked, “May I kiss you?”
Sharayu’s breath caught. The world tilted on its axis, spinning faster than her thoughts.
Her stomach twisted, fluttering with nerves and need all at once. Her lips parted, but words refused to come.
A thousand warnings screamed in her mind—professor, student, wrong, impossible—but her heart beat louder than them all.
And when she finally gave the smallest, almost imperceptible nod, Satish’s chest expanded like he’d just been handed permission to breathe again.
His fingers brushed her jawline, calloused yet tender, tilting her chin upward. Her skin burned beneath his touch, a spark that shot straight to her core. Then, with a slowness that bordered on torture, he closed the distance.
His lips touched hers.
Soft. Warm. Electric.
It wasn’t a collision—it was a claiming. A kiss that spoke of restraint and desperation tangled together.
At first, his lips molded gently, reverently, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he pressed too hard. But the taste of her undid him. The careful control he carried like a second skin snapped, and the kiss deepened—bolder, hungrier, more consuming with every second.
Sharayu’s knees threatened to give way, the strength in her body melting like sugar in hot tea. Her hands found his shirt, gripping it tight, clinging as though it were the only anchor keeping her upright.
Satish groaned against her lips, his hand sliding to the curve of her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He needed her closer—closer than skin, closer than breath. Her scent wrapped around him, dizzying, addictive, and the world blurred into nothing but her.
The terrace café, the city lights, the hum of the night—all of it disappeared. All that existed was the press of his mouth on hers, the taste of chocolate lingering from the cake they’d shared earlier, and something else—something undeniably, maddeningly him.
When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathless. His forehead rested against hers, his eyes still closed as if savoring the aftertaste of her lips. A slow, satisfied smirk curved across his face.
“You taste better than the cake,” he murmured, voice rough and teasing.
Sharayu’s cheeks flamed crimson. Half-embarrassed, half-delighted, she smacked his chest with her small hand, though her fingers still fisted in his shirt.
“Shut up,” she whispered, her pout making him want to kiss her all over again.
He only chuckled, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace.
The shrill vibration of her phone cut through the silence, startling them both. Sharayu jumped slightly, her flushed face buried against his chest as she fumbled for the device in her bag. One glance at the screen and her heart sank—Aai.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. The warmth of his arms still lingered on her skin, but reality had barged in mercilessly. She looked up at him, eyes apologetic.
“It’s my mother,” she whispered, her voice tinged with guilt. “I… I have to go home.”
The words stabbed at him more than he cared to admit.
A wave of disappointment flickered across Satish’s face, so raw and unguarded that for a second, he looked younger—like a boy denied the last few moments with something he desperately wanted. His jaw flexed, and for a moment he seemed on the verge of protesting, of asking her to stay, of stealing just five more minutes.
But then, with a long, reluctant sigh, he leaned back slightly, releasing the tight hold he had on her waist. His thumb brushed her knuckles one last time before dropping his hand.
“Of course,” he said, voice softer than usual, laced with restraint. He searched her face, memorizing her flushed cheeks and still-kiss-swollen lips, and his chest clenched at the thought of letting her go.
A pause.
And then, with that signature steadiness that made him who he was, he exhaled and added quietly, almost as if it were the only consolation he could allow himself:
“Let me drop you home.”
The words carried no question, only certainty. He couldn’t bear the idea of her leaving this moment and stepping back into her world without him by her side—even if only for the drive.
And so, hand in hand, they walked toward his bike.
The night air had cooled, but for Sharayu, her cheeks still burned with the remnants of his kiss. As they reached the parking area below the café, Satish swung one long leg over his bike and sat with practiced ease, his presence radiating quiet authority even in something so casual.
Sharayu, however, froze. Her eyes darted between the leather seat and his broad back. Should she sit sideways, like the “good girl” her mother would expect? Or… should she swing her legs on either side, like every nerve in her body was daring her to?
She chewed her lip, caught in the dilemma, until he turned slightly, watching her with that unreadable gaze. Without a word, his hand reached out—steady, firm—and he guided her gently, helping her settle onto the seat behind him.
Her fingers trembled as she adjusted her dupatta, still unsure how close she should sit. But before she could decide, he kicked the bike to life. The sudden jerk forward made her stumble, her body bumping hard into his back, her palms instinctively pressing against his shoulders.
He chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his body straight into her. “Tighten your hold,” he said, voice deep, unarguable, yet teasing enough to make her flush harder.
Sharayu froze. Her heart hammered. Holding him—wrapping her arms around him—felt too intimate, too bold. What if someone saw? What if he teased her later?
Her hesitation lasted all of three seconds.
With an exasperated sigh, Satish slowed the bike to a stop by the side of the road. The engine hummed quietly as he glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his eyes sharp, amused.
“Still thinking?” he murmured.
Before she could stammer an excuse, his large hands reached behind, capturing her smaller ones. Gently but firmly, he tugged them forward, guiding them around his torso until they rested against the solid planes of his chest. The warmth of his body seeped into her palms instantly, making her head spin.
“There,” he said, his lips curving into a smug, knowing smirk as he caught her wide-eyed reflection in the mirror. His voice dropped lower, laced with something wickedly sweet. “Much better.”
Sharayu’s breath hitched. Her face hid against his back, but her hold tightened unconsciously—just the way he wanted.
Satish, however, was having none of it.
With a sharp tug of his hand, he pulled her arms tighter around him, locking her against his back.
A gasp left her lips.
“Hold me properly, Shona,” he murmured over the wind.
Her heart skipped a beat.
This man!
She hated how effortlessly he made her blush.
Instead of answering, she pressed her face against his back, hiding her burning cheeks in the fabric of his leather jacket.
And Satish?
He smirked.
He could feel her nervous grip, her deep breaths as she tried to steady her racing heart.
And he loved it.
Every damn second of it.
They finally reached her house, the warm yellow light of her building’s compound illuminating the silent street.
Satish cut the engine, but neither of them moved.
Silence stretched between them, filled with the echoes of a kiss still lingering on their lips.
Sharayu knew she had to go inside, but a part of her didn’t want to move.
Not yet.
Satish turned slightly, his intense blue eyes locking onto hers.
“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asked, voice teasing, but deep.
She swallowed.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.
His gaze darkened.
With slow, deliberate movements, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“You do,” he said simply.
Her breath hitched.
That was not fair.
How could he be so calm after everything?
She was still dizzy, breathless, overwhelmed, and he?
He was sitting there like he hadn’t just turned her entire world upside down.
She glared at him.
“You’re too full of yourself,” she muttered.
Satish leaned in slightly, his lips just a breath away from her forehead.
“And you’re too cute when you’re flustered,” he murmured.
Her face exploded in heat.
Satish finally turned toward her, his gaze soft in the faint glow of the streetlamp. His hand rose slowly, almost reverently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Then he leaned in, close enough that his breath warmed her skin, and pressed a tender kiss against her forehead.
“Goodnight, Rayu,” he whispered.
The sound of it—Rayu. Not Miss Sharayu, he sometimes threw her way in class. Rayu. Her heart skipped wildly, stumbling over itself at the intimacy of it. No one had ever called her that, not like this, not with this weight. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. She could only stare at him, eyes wide, cheeks blazing.
He pulled back just enough to see her expression, his thumb brushing her cheek for a second before he let his hand fall. He didn’t move to leave, though. He sat there, waiting. Watching. Protecting. His eyes never left her until she finally stepped off the bike, smoothing her dress nervously.
As she walked toward the entrance of her building, she felt the heavy weight of his gaze on her back, and she knew—he wasn’t leaving until she was safely inside. It made her smile, that stubborn protectiveness of his.
Just before the lift door shut behind her, she turned. Her hand lifted in a small, shy wave.
And that was all it took to undo him.
From where he sat, Satish’s lips curved into a sly smile—one that carried both satisfaction and mischief, the kind of smile that promised he wasn’t done stealing pieces of her heart. He revved the engine again, the sound echoing through the quiet night, and finally rode off, still wearing that smile.
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