The next morning, the sun filtered through the curtains, bathing Mythili's room in a soft, golden glow. She stretched languidly, a lingering warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the weather.
She had slept better than she had in years—a deep, dreamless slumber punctuated only by the flickering image of a sharp jawline and a rare, faint smile.
As she lay there, staring at the ceiling, the question finally bubbled up to the surface: Is she starting to like him? She shook her head as if to physically toss the thought away.
'Chi, Mythu! He's a DCP, and you're a student who threatened to arrest him. Focus!' But the logic didn't stop the flutter in her stomach.
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She climbed out of bed, got ready for college and headed to the kitchen. Her friends were still dead to the world, sleeping like zombies after their late-night misadventures. The apartment was quiet, the only sound being the distant chirping of birds.
"What should I make..." she murmured, opening the pantry and scanning the containers. Her eyes landed on the flour. "Puri it is. With spicy potato curry."
It was a heavy breakfast, the kind that demanded a nap afterward, but she felt like celebrating. Celebrating what? She didn't want to say.
Soon, the kitchen was alive with the sizzle of dough hitting hot oil and the mouth-watering aroma of tempered cumin and turmeric. She brewed a strong ginger tea for herself, the steam fogging up her glasses.
By the time the golden, puffed-up puris were stacked high, Sandhya and Sowmya shuffled into the dining area, rubbing their eyes and yawning in perfect synchronization.
"Oh no... puri?" Sowmya groaned, though her nose was twitching at the delicious smell. "Mythu, why are you trying to sabotage my career? I'll definitely sleep in class today. And on top of that, we have Raghav sir's lecture! If I nod off, he'll definitely throw me out of the room!"
Sandhya and Mythili burst out laughing.
"Laugh... laugh..." Sowmya muttered, serving herself a massive portion.
"Eat first, drama queen. Maybe the spice in the curry will keep you awake." Mythili said, her eyes twinkling.
______๑♡๑______
As expected...
Raghav sir, a man whose patience was thinner than a strand of hair, did not appreciate Sowmya's rhythmic snoring during his explanations. Ten minutes into the lecture, Sowmya was escorted to the door.
She stood in the corridor, leaning against the cold wall with a sulking face, silently cursing the professor, the puris, and the entire educational system. "Great... perfect day. Naa karma kakapothe..." she muttered. (If it wasn't my bad luck...)
