The classroom was almost too quiet.
Just the faint rustle of chart papers and markers, a few paintbrushes scattered on a bench, and the golden hour glow slipping in through dusty windows. Simran sat cross-legged on the desk, flipping through a file of unfinished ideas, while Alzan leaned back in a plastic chair like he had all the time in the world.
"Are you ever going to take this seriously?" she muttered, swatting a glitter tube out of his hand.
Alzan smirked, lazy and unbothered. "I am. I just find watching you annoyed ten times more entertaining than finalizing the dance lineup."
Simran scoffed. "Because harassing me is your favorite pastime, right?"
He stood and walked over to her, slow and confident, like he owned the space around them. She didn't move.
Without saying anything, he reached for the marker in her hand—his fingers grazing hers—but this time, his hand lingered, fingers brushing against her thigh as he leaned forward to grab the chart behind her. Not an accident. He didn't even pretend it was.
Simran stilled. Her breath hitched, eyes narrowing slightly, but she didn't push his hand away.
He stayed close. Too close. His face just inches from hers now. The afternoon light painted a golden outline along his jaw, his lashes, the curve of his lips as his gaze dropped… to her mouth.
"Say something now," he whispered, voice deeper, edged with a tension that hadn't been there two seconds ago.
She swallowed. Her pulse stuttered. Her hand tightened around the file on her lap.
He leaned in—slow, deliberate, close enough that she could feel the faintest brush of his breath on her lips.
But right before he could kiss her—
Knock knock.
The door creaked open.
A peon peeked in. "Beta, you two locking up or what? It's almost 6."
Alzan pulled back, jaw tightening just a little, like he hadn't wanted to stop. Simran blinked fast, heart hammering, trying to act normal as she jumped off the desk, voice shaky but steady. "Yeah! Just finishing up."
The door shut again.
Alzan chuckled low under his breath, hand dragging through his hair as he turned away. "Guess that's round one."
Simran didn't look at him. Couldn't.
She was still trying to figure out if she'd actually leaned in too.
The sun had dipped, painting the clouds in burnt orange and pink hues, the air sticky with leftover monsoon heat. Alzan's car purred quietly as it pulled up outside her house, the inside wrapped in the low hum of soft music and everything they hadn't said yet.
Simran sat beside him, her phone loosely in her hand, but her mind replaying every second from that classroom — his palm against her thigh, that dangerous lean, the way his breath had brushed against her lips before the knock had shattered it all.
He still hadn't pulled back.
Alzan shifted in his seat, one arm casually draped behind her headrest. "You got real quiet," he said, his voice softer now, teasing but loaded. "Thinking about it?"
Her heart betrayed her and skipped. "You're the one who almost kissed me in a classroom like it was nothing."
He chuckled, eyes flicking toward her with that trademark confidence. "Almost? You didn't stop me."
She shot him a look — part warning, part something else. "That doesn't mean you get to do it again."
He leaned a little closer, not closing the gap this time, just letting the tension hang. "That's the thing about 'almost', Simran," he whispered, his eyes locked on her lips, "it stays unfinished."
The silence grew thick. He broke it with a small smirk and leaned back, finally. "But don't worry. I'll play nice... for now."
She shook her head, exasperated but smiling. "Goodnight, Alzan."
But just as her hand hit the door handle, he caught her wrist gently.
"Hey," he said, more serious now. "Text me when you're in. Or I swear I'll show up at your door pretending I forgot my charger or some stupid excuse."
That cocky glint was back in his eyes, but there was something protective behind it too.
She rolled her eyes, but her smile was real. "Fine. Goodnight, dumbass."
As she walked to her gate, she could feel his gaze burning into her back. And when she finally closed her door behind her, heart still thumping, she did text him.
"Safe. Happy now?"His reply came instantly.
"Not happy. Just waiting for that kiss you owe me."
Simran flopped onto her bed, her heart still racing from the car ride. The silence between them, the way his hand had lingered on her thigh, the way he didn't kiss her — but almost did — it was all replaying on a loop in her mind.
Her phone buzzed.
Alzan 🖤: You blushed.
She bit her lip, fingers hovering over the screen.
Simran: No I didn't 🙄
Alzan 🖤: You're blushing again now, aren't you?
She hid her face into her pillow, heat rushing to her cheeks.
God, why did he know exactly how to get to her?
Simran: Go to sleep.
Alzan 🖤: Not when you looked like that in my car.
You looked...kissable.
Her breath caught. She sat up, staring at the message, heart thudding like a drumline.
Simran: Alzan—
Alzan 🖤: Yeah?
Simran: You didn't kiss me.
Alzan 🖤: You didn't stop me either.
Her screen dimmed from inactivity, but she just sat there, staring into the dark, fingers frozen.
Another ping.
Alzan 🖤: Next time... I won't stop halfway.
She dropped the phone onto the bed like it burned. Hugging her knees, she laughed quietly into the darkness, nervous and giddy all at once.
And somewhere on the other side of town, Alzan stared at his screen too — grinning like he had her exactly where he wanted.
Next day
Sneha was talking to Junaid about something random posters for the upcoming college fest but Alzan's eyes weren't on them.
They were on her.
She could feel it, across the distance, like heat traveling in waves.
And when their eyes finally met… he smirked.
Simran looked away first this time.
But the blush on her face
Yeah, she knew he saw that.