(Kavin's POV)
The auditorium didn't smell like it usually did. Today, it held the warm, earthy scent of wet clay—fresh, grounding, almost like petrichor. Tables had been pushed into wide circles, tarps spread over the floor, and shelves were lined with little bowls and vases that hinted at weeks of planning. A banner at the entrance read:
"Art in Touch: School x MudNest Ceramics Collab – Beginner Pottery Workshop"
Kavin stood near one of the tables, tying twine around a stack of aprons. His fingers moved absently—he was only half-listening to the chatter of students trickling in. His eyes kept darting toward the doorway for some reason.
"He'll show," Tanya said breezily, appearing beside him like a magician with perfect timing.
Kavin gave a non-committal shrug. "I wasn't—"
"You were," she said, already smirking. "So... how long are you planning to stand here like a lost golden retriever?"
"Wow. Harsh today."
"Honest, always."
Then he saw him.
Vihaan stood at the entrance, neat as ever. Bag slung over one shoulder, sleeves buttoned properly, and the faintest look of skepticism in his eyes like he'd wandered into the wrong dimension. His gaze swept across the room—and then paused on Kavin.
Kavin grinned, unable to help it.
"Spotted someone?" Tanya's voiced beside him, amused, and just a bit too sharp.
Kavin didn't even try to hide it. "Maybe."
"Oh, maybe, he says," she teased.
"There he is," he murmured.
"Oh no," Tanya said dramatically. "I know that smile."
"Don't be weird," Kavin muttered.
"You wish I could turn it off." She looped her arm through his. "Come on, let's go before he escapes. Someone's caught your eye, clearly."
They crossed the room together, Tanya towing him with too much flair. As they neared, Vihaan straightened a little, his expression unreadable—but his eyes didn't leave Kavin's.
"Hey," Kavin said, keeping his voice low, soft.
"Hey," Vihaan replied, adjusting his grip on the strap. "Is this... the right place?"
"Nope," Tanya said flatly. "We're kidnapping you. We're just here to initiate unsuspecting nerds into the underground clay mafia."
Vihaan blinked.
"She's joking," Kavin cut in. "Mostly."
Vihaan opened his mouth, then paused. "Okay?"
Kavin offered a hand toward the tables. "We're just getting started. It's very... hands-on. And messy. So if that shirt is special, you might wanna say your goodbyes now."
Vihaan looked down at himself and raised a brow. "Should I be worried?"
"Oh, definitely," Kavin said. "But you'll look great doing it."
He reached up and brushed a phantom smudge from Vihaan's shoulder—light, casual, practiced. Vihaan froze for a second but didn't step away. Behind him, Tanya made a silent mhmm noise under her breath.
"Come on," she said. "You're both embarrassing."
She handed Vihaan an apron, which he unfolded like it might contain a riddle.
"How do you even—?" he began.
"I got you," Kavin said.
He stepped behind Vihaan, gently tugging the strings around his waist and tying a secure knot. His fingers brushed fabric, and for just a second, he was aware of how close they were standing.
"You're alarmingly good at this," Vihaan muttered.
"I moonlight as an apron fairy," Kavin said. "Very niche career."
Vihaan huffed a quiet laugh. "Sounds lucrative."
"You'd be surprised."
They settled in at a table together, Tanya dropping into the seat across from them like a judge ready for court.
The instructor—an older woman in a loosely draped kurta stood near the front, clapping her hands for attention. Her chunky silver bangles jingled as she smiled warmly at the group.
"Hi everyone! I'm Radhika, and I run MudNest Ceramics down in the old market lane. I'm thrilled to be here today with you all. This collab is about making space for art you can touch, squish, and sometimes accidentally drop."
A soft ripple of laughter went around the room.
"Now," she continued, "you're going to get messy. It's okay to feel awkward—clay doesn't expect perfection. It expects attention. We'll start with hand-building. You'll learn the pinch pot or coil technique today, no wheels, just your fingers and imagination. Think of it like sculpting emotions."
Kavin leaned toward Vihaan and whispered, "Do you have any sculptable emotions today?"
Vihaan didn't look at him. "Mostly confusion. Mild panic."
"Perfect. Clay loves that."
Radhika continued, "If your pot turns out wonky, that's alright. We're not creating masterpieces today—we're getting to know a material that mirrors us. It wobbles when we hesitate, it centers when we do. Just play."
Applause broke out. The tables became a soft chaos of aprons, squeaky stools, and cold, pliable clay.
Kavin rolled a lump between his palms while Vihaan inspected his like it was a biology specimen.
"It's... squishier than expected," Vihaan said, pressing a cautious thumb into it.
"That's what—"
"Don't."
Kavin grinned. "Spoilsport."
Vihaan was trying to roll a coil but kept flattening it. Kavin leaned over, reaching toward Vihaan's hands. "You're using too much pressure. Think snake, not pancake."
Vihaan raised an eyebrow. "Helpful."
Kavin nudged his elbow. "Hey, mine once looked like a sad burrito. You're doing fine."
They worked in soft chatter, hands moving, clay shaping into unrecognizable forms. Vihaan's fingers were more precise than expected—he didn't rush, even though he clearly had no idea what he was doing. His brow furrowed in focus, his lip caught slightly between his teeth, and Kavin had to force himself to look away before it became obvious.
"I think mine's a mushroom," Vihaan said finally, lifting a slightly wobbly form.
"Cute," Kavin said. "Mine's a failed attempt at a cup. Wanna trade?"
"Do I want to?" Vihaan replied, but he accepted the switch.
Tanya was eyeing them like a suspicious hawk. "You two are giving 'romcom clay montage' energy."
Kavin kept shaping his clay, smirking. "Jealous?"
"Terrified," she deadpanned.
The session continued with soft laughter, the slap of wet clay, and mild chaos. Vihaan gradually loosened up, smiling more often, making jokes under his breath that only Kavin seemed to hear. At one point, he swiped a little clay onto Kavin's wrist, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
Kavin retaliated by dabbing a bit on Vihaan's forearm.
"War?" Vihaan asked.
"Diplomatic negotiations," Kavin said, laughing. "I come in peace."
Their clay forms weren't particularly elegant, but they lined them up on the drying tray like trophies. Vihaan's pot leaned slightly left. Kavin's was unevenly thick.
"I call mine 'Imperfect But Trying,'" Kavin declared.
Vihaan nodded. "Appropriate."
As the session wound down, the instructor walked by and complimented Kavin's balance of shape and Vihaan's "surprisingly thoughtful lines." Vihaan looked genuinely pleased—more than Kavin had expected.
They walked to the sink to clean up, elbow to elbow. Vihaan was scrubbing at his fingers like the clay owed him money.
"You're not gonna get every bit off," Kavin said. "It sticks for a while."
Vihaan glanced at his smudged arms. "It's under my nails."
"That's your souvenir."
"I don't want it."
"You'll miss it when you're back to dissecting frog intestines or whatever science kids do."
Vihaan chuckled. "Not quite, but… fair."
After cleaning up—an ordeal that involved water fights and someone clogging a sink—they regrouped outside the auditorium, the evening air cooler now and tinged with the scent of evening blossoms.
Tanya joined them with her bottle and an unreadable smile.
"So," she said, glancing between them. "When's the next not-a-date?"
Kavin choked on nothing. Vihaan blinked. "What?"
"Nothing," she sang. "Just curious. You two had... chemistry."
Vihaan gave her a baffled look.
Kavin muttered, "Don't encourage her."
They walked together under the faint glow of campus lights. Vihaan moved a step ahead, talking animatedly about how oddly satisfying working with clay was—his gestures more fluid now.
Kavin watched him, quietly, hands tucked into his pockets.
If this wasn't a date... why did it feel like one?