Next day...
College Courtyard – Afternoon
Shristi was busy reviewing the final tournament schedules when her phone buzzed.
Wick: "7 PM. Be ready."
She blinked at the message.
No explanation. No question. Just a command.
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips.
Two minutes later—another text.
Wick: "And don't be late."
Shristi smirked and typed back.
Shristi: "Or what? You'll fight me?"
His reply was instant.
Wick: "I'd win."
She scoffed, shaking her head. "Robot". But instead of ignoring it, she found herself checking the time, wondering what he had planned.
Her lips curled slightly. Typical Vikram.
Still, she couldn't deny the strange warmth spreading in her chest.
Evening*
When Wick pulled up outside her hostel, he didn't say anything. He just leaned against the car, waiting.
Shristi, dressed in something casual but effortlessly pretty.
"You're late," she teased, sliding into the passenger seat.
Wick, in his usual composed manner, glanced at her briefly before focusing on the road. "And you still got in."
Shristi rolled her eyes but said nothing. She had learned something about Wick—he rarely explained himself, but everything he did had meaning.
The drive was quiet, but not in an awkward way. Wick wasn't someone who filled silences unnecessarily, and Shristi had come to appreciate that.
Instead, there were small things.
The way he adjusted the AC without asking because he knew she didn't like the cold.
The way his fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, a sign that he was deep in thought.
And the way he glanced at her from time to time, as if making sure she was still there.
"You're staring," she said, amused.
"Just making sure you don't run away." His tone was teasing, but there was something deeper beneath it.
She didn't answer. She didn't need to.
Because she wasn't going anywhere.
Shristi hated how one sentence from him always hit deeper than it should.
Damn him.
After riding through the city for a while, Shristi leaned forward. "So where are we going?"
Wick hummed. "Dunno."
Shristi's eyes widened. "You didn't plan anything?!"
Wick smirked. "I just wanted to take you out."
Shristi groaned. "Unbelievable. Fine. Take me to a place where you actually think."
Wick chuckled and suddenly changed direction.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at a hilltop overlooking the city. It was quiet, the stars above them glowing faintly as the city lights flickered below.
Shristi got off the car, taking in the view. "Okay, fine. I'm impressed."
Wick leaned against his car, watching her. "Told you I think sometimes."
Shristi scoffed. "Rarely."
Wick chuckled, pulling something from his pocket. He tossed a chocolate bar toward her.
Shristi caught it. "You—" She stopped. "You remembered?"
Wick shrugged. "You stress-eat chocolates. I figured you'd need one after all your complaining."
Shristi stared at him, warmth spreading in her chest. "You act all tough, but you're secretly sweet, aren't you?"
Wick smirked. "Don't ruin my reputation."
Shristi took a bite of the chocolate, sitting on the car seat keeping door open. "Alright, Mr. Not-Romantic. What now?"
Instead of some fancy restaurant, Wick took her to a different place which was underrated
Shristi raised an eyebrow. "Romantic choice— I mean the place."
Wick smirked. "Trust me, the food's better than any five-star place."
As they sat at the table, the owner—an old man who clearly knew Wick—smiled. "Wick? Haven't seen you in a while!"
Shristi looked at him suspiciously. "You come here often?"
Wick shrugged. "When I need peace."
Shristi smirked. "So this is where you come to think. Not bad, Vikram."
They ordered food, and to Shristi's surprise, Wick actually knew exactly what she liked.
Shristi bit into a Butter naan and Paneer butter masala, humming. "Okay, okay, I admit. This is good."
Wick watched her, smirking slightly. "Told you."
Shristi caught him staring. "What?"
Wick leaned forward on the table, voice low. "Nothing. Just… you look happy."
Shristi blinked, caught off guard.
Wick wasn't always expressive. But in that moment, his eyes held something soft—something just for her.
Shristi's heart did something weird.
To cover it up, she smirked. "Well, you should be honored. Not many guys can say they've taken me on a date and impressed me this much at the same time."
Wick chuckled. "True. I set the bar high."
Shristi smiled, resting her chin on her hand. "Yeah, you do."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. It was just them, under the dim diner lights, enjoying the food, the quiet, and each other.
--
After dinner, Shristi stood near the edge, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. The cool night breeze played with her hair, but she barely noticed. Everything felt… still.
Then, she felt him.
Wick stepped beside her, close enough that she could feel his warmth, but not touching. His presence was steady—unshakable.
Without a word, he lifted a hand toward her.
She blinked. "What?"
Wick's lips curled into the faintest smirk. "Dance with me."
Shristi let out a soft laugh. "There's no music."
Wick didn't move, his gaze steady. "We don't need music."
Something in the way he said it made her heart stutter.
For a moment, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she placed her hand in his.
His fingers curled around hers—warm, firm, but gentle. As if he was holding something precious.
They swayed, barely moving, lost in a rhythm that didn't exist anywhere except here.
"You're terrible at this," she teased, trying to steady her breathing.
Wick's voice was low, almost a whisper. "I don't need to be good at this."
His breath brushed against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.
She pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. "And what are you good at?"
Wick's fingers tightened ever so slightly around hers. His answer came effortlessly.
"Holding onto things I don't want to lose."
Her breath caught.
Because suddenly, the teasing stopped. The playful banter faded.
And all that was left… was this.
The way he looked at her.
The way the air felt heavier.
The way his grip never wavered.
Shristi swallowed, trying to find words. "Vikram…"
His smirk softened, his voice steady, deep, undeniable.
"I don't need somebody, Shristi." His thumb brushed against her palm. "I need you."
The city lights flickered below them. But in that moment, the only thing she saw… was him.
---
Returning Home*
The drive back was quieter. Not uncomfortable—just charged with everything they hadn't said.
When Wick pulled up outside her hostel, he didn't say anything at first.
Shristi unbuckled her seatbelt but didn't move.
"Thanks for tonight," she said softly.
Wick's fingers drummed against the steering wheel. "For what?"
_"For showing me…" She hesitated. "That you can be normal sometimes."
Wick scoffed. "Don't get used to it."
She smirked, opening the door. But before she stepped out, she paused.
Looked at him. Really looked at him.
And Wick?
For once, he looked a little unsure. As if he was debating something.
Something dangerous.
Like whether or not he should kiss her.
Shristi tilted her head slightly, challenging. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"
Wick smirked, leaning slightly closer. "Depends. Are you hoping I am?"
Shristi bit her lip, then suddenly leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
Wick's body froze.
Shristi pulled back, smirking. "You're cute when you're surprised."
"Goodnight, Vikram," she whispered instead, forcing herself out of the car before she did something stupid.
Before Wick could react, she hopped off the car.
Wick sat there for a few seconds, completely thrown off.
As she walked away, she could still feel his eyes on her.
And she knew.
The next time they were this close… she wouldn't walk away.
To be continued...