Yeh Dil ♥️ - Love Like This

8

A week had passed, a blur of doctor visits, pain medication, and endless movie marathons with Anjali to keep his spirits high. Finally, the day arrived for Rohit to return to college. The fresh air on his face as he walked through the campus gates felt exhilarating, a stark contrast to the confines of his dorm room.

He entered the familiar throng of students, their laughter and chatter a comforting hum. As he rounded a corner, he froze. There, leaning against a wall, was Rudra. He wasn't alone. A girl, all pouty lips and short skirts, clung to his arm, her laughter echoing in the hallway.

The sight hit Rohit with an unexpected force. A pang of…jealousy?  He quickly dismissed the thought, scoffing internally.  Why should he care who Rudra was with?  They were barely acquaintances, their connection a brief moment of shared pain and fleeting concern.

He squared his shoulders and forced a nonchalant expression.  He wouldn't give Rudra the satisfaction of knowing he'd noticed him, especially with that…attachment.  With a determined stride, Rohit walked past them, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

Rudra, however, had seen him.  The moment their eyes met, a flicker of something unreadable crossed his features.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, but Rohit had already turned away, disappearing into the crowd.

Rudra stared after him, the girl's chatter fading into background noise.  Confusion clouded his mind.  He wanted to talk to Rohit, to apologize for his abrupt disappearance, to explain…but explain what?  He didn't even understand his own emotions, the strange pull he felt towards the quiet freshman. 

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips.  He glanced down at the girl clinging to his arm, her possessiveness suddenly suffocating.  With a mumbled excuse, he gently disentangled himself from her grasp.

"Hey, where are you going?" the girl whined, her pout deepening.

Rudra ignored her, his gaze fixed on the direction Rohit had vanished.  He needed some time, some space to sort through the tangled mess of thoughts and emotions swirling within him.  Maybe then, he would understand why a chance encounter with an injured freshman had left such a lasting impression.

Meanwhile, Rohit reached his classroom, the encounter with Rudra leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.  He tried to focus on the upcoming lecture, but his mind kept wandering back to the scene in the hallway.  Why did it bother him so much?  He was being ridiculous.  Rudra was just another college guy, a player with a string of nameless flings.  So why did the image of him with that girl make Rohit feel…excluded?

He shoved the unwelcome thoughts aside, forcing himself to concentrate on the professor's words.  But the image of Rudra, his fleeting concern and confusing actions, lingered in the back of his mind, a puzzle waiting to be solved. The unexpected encounter had shifted something within him, and Rohit, for the first time, found himself both intrigued and slightly afraid of the uncharted territory it might lead him to.

A buzz of excitement rippled through the classroom as the door creaked open.  All eyes turned towards the entrance, anticipation hanging thick in the air.  It was Rudra, sauntering in with his usual entourage trailing behind him like a pack of loyal wolves.

Unlike Rohit, who faced a silent acceptance from the professors, Rudra's arrival held a different weight.  He was the embodiment of privilege, his powerful parents practically bankrolling the college.  Teachers turned a blind eye to his late entrances and disruptive behavior, a silent acknowledgement of the power he wielded.

Rohit, his back ramrod straight, pretended to focus on his notes.  But a prickle of awareness ran down his spine as he felt Rudra's gaze sweep over the classroom.  Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, a silent exchange that sent a shiver down Rohit's spine.  Rudra's lips curved into a smirk, a knowing glint in his eyes. 

Rohit quickly looked away, the smirk fueling a strange mix of annoyance and…something else he couldn't quite define.  Rudra, with a flourish, settled into the seat directly behind him, his friends following suit and creating a wall of noise and distraction around him.

The professor droned on, his monotone voice a battle cry against the rising tide of boredom.  Kunj stifled a yawn, leaning over to whisper to Rohit about the mind-numbing lecture.  Rohit, stifling a smile, agreed.  They both glanced at Anjali, who was valiantly trying to fight off sleep, her eyelids fluttering like butterfly wings.

Suddenly, a loud *thwack* echoed through the room.  Anjali's head had collided spectacularly with the chalkboard, courtesy of a stray piece of chalk.  A collective gasp filled the room as Anjali, startled awake, shot up in her seat.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, Professor!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing crimson.  The professor, momentarily startled, simply nodded curtly, his lecture resuming in its monotonous rhythm.

Anjali, mortified, glanced around the room.  Her eyes landed on Kunj and Rohit, who were both trying, and failing, to stifle their laughter.  She scowled playfully at them, a silent threat that brought their amusement to an abrupt halt.

Meanwhile, Rudra had been a silent observer throughout the exchange.  His attention, however, had been focused less on the lecture and more on Rohit.  He couldn't explain the strange fascination that drew his gaze towards the freshman, his every movement, his every stifled laugh.  It was a stark contrast to the usual parade of glamorous girls he surrounded himself with.

Ignoring the whispered question from one of his friends, Rudra continued to watch Rohit, a frown creasing his forehead.  This unexpected connection, this unwanted intrigue, was a puzzle he couldn't seem to solve.  As the lecture dragged on, the classroom became a battleground – boredom versus curiosity, silence versus the unspoken questions swirling within Rudra's mind.  The stage was set for a confrontation, not between the professor and his students, but between Rudra and his own confusing emotions, all fueled by the quiet presence of the boy who sat just out of reach.