Love Me

15

DAKSH'S P.O.V

"Wrong again." I pushed her register back across the bed, keeping my tone firm. How many times have I told her the same thing? Five already, and still she was making silly mistakes.

Roshni groaned, tossing her pen at me. I caught it before it could hit my face. "I’m not doing it anymore! You’ve given it back five times. Do it yourself—I can’t find the mistake."

This kid, I pinched the bridge of my nose before continuing. "Roshni, when I gave it back the second time, I solved the question myself. The formula’s fine, but your calculation—"

"Then find the mistake. Don’t just keep shoving it at me. Who even made you a teacher? I want to meet them." She snapped.

I rolled my eyes and took the register, scanning line by line until I spotted it. "What’s two into two?"

She smirked. "Four. Simple. I’m not in primary school."

This smirk is going to fade away really soon.

"And three into three?"

"Six—wait." She laughed at herself. "Nine. My mistake."

"Exactly. Nine. But you’ve written three into three equals six, and five into five equals ten. You had the formula right, but your childish mistakes ruined the final answer. Do I need to teach you multiplication tables now?" I asked in a done tone.

She pouted, snatching it back. "Sometimes mistakes happen. Sorry." She half-lays on the bed again, scribbling with that lazy attitude of hers. When she shoved the notebook at me proudly, I didn’t even need to check long.

"Wrong," I said flatly.

Her jaw dropped. "No! It can’t be. You’re lying. I checked every multiplication."

"You did," I admitted, fighting a smile. "But this time you forgot that when numbers change places, the sign changes too. You already gave return on investment, so it should’ve gone to division, not multiplication. Honestly, it looks like I need to teach you basics again. Go bring your rough register."

She flopped back dramatically. "You know Ayaan told me to rest. My mind isn’t working. Let me sleep."

At the mention of my brother, I froze. Right the prescription. How can I forget about it.

"Oh, yeah. He said you’d feel weak. Let me check where I put it—" I stood, checking my pockets.

Before I could search further, she dashed out and came back in minutes, clutching two notebooks to her chest. She shoved one at me. "Here. But don’t you dare give me more sums. I know I made a silly mistake."

This girl is way too cute. And her pout is reminding me how she peck my lips yesterday. It was tye first time that someone did it.

"I’m not giving you sums," I told her calmly, handing it back brushing my thoughts away. "But you’re going to repeat these answers at least twice. Get on with it."

She huffed, sliding down again in that half-lazy posture.

"At least sit properly," I muttered, leaving the room to find prescription.

When I came back, she wasn’t working. Instead, she was tracing her fingers gently across her parents’ photograph, her expression soft and aching.

"Roshni," I called softly. She spun around, guilty, snatching the pen.

"I was working," she insisted quickly.

"First eat," I said, setting a bowl in front of her. She peeked inside, wrinkled her nose, and started eating slowly.