Him OR Her

7. Shadows of the Past

Riya

The weight of my parents' expectations had always been a shadow over me, one that I could never seem to outrun. No matter how many accolades I gathered, no matter how close I got to being the best, it was never enough. And now, with Jeet constantly one step ahead, that shadow loomed larger than ever.

As I stared at the assignments piling up on my desk, I felt a familiar tightness in my chest. It was the same suffocating pressure I'd felt since I was a child–the need to be perfect, to excel in everything I did, to never show weakness. But with each passing day, it became harder to keep up the facade.

I was slipping.

And Jeet-he was the one thing I couldn't control, couldn't conquer. No matter how hard I tried, he was always there, always just out of reach. It infuriated me. But what scared me more was the way he made me feel–the way he seemed to see right through me, as if he knew all my secrets.

Secrets I'd buried deep, where no one could find them.

As I sat there, trying to focus on my work, my thoughts kept drifting back to the professor, to our conversation. He'd been clear-my performance was slipping, and if I didn't pull it together, there would be consequences. My scholarship, my future–it all hung in the balance.

I couldn't afford to fail. Not now, not ever.

But the pressure was getting to me, and I didn't know how much longer I could hold on. I needed an outlet, something to take my mind off everything. And that's when I thought of Jeet.

I hated him for what he represented, for always being just a little bit better, a little bit smarter. But I couldn't deny the pull he had over me, the way he seemed to dominate my thoughts. Maybe if I could understand him, if I could figure out what made him tick, I could find a way to beat him once and for all.

Or maybe... maybe I just wanted to get closer to him.

The thought scared me, but it excited me too. There was something about Jeet that I couldn't resist, something dark and magnetic that drew me in, even as I tried to push him away.

But I knew getting closer to him was dangerous. I knew it could destroy me.And yet, I couldn't stop myself.

Jeet

I watched Riya from across the room, pretending to focus on the lecture, but my mind was elsewhere. Ever since that day, when I'd confronted her after seeing her with the professor, I couldn't get her out of my head.

There was something about her, something beyond the rivalry and the competition that intrigued me. I wanted to know more, to peel back the layers she so carefully kept hidden. But it wasn't just curiosity that drove me–it was something deeper, something darker.

I'd always been good at reading people, at seeing through the masks they wore. And Riya... she was hiding something, something that had nothing to do with our academic rivalry. I could see it in her eyes, in the way she held herself, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

It was a weight I recognized all too well.

But I wasn't ready to reveal my own secrets, not yet. I wasn't ready to let her see the darkness that lurked inside me, the obsession that had taken hold of me since the day we met.

I'd always been drawn to her, even when I hated her. Especially when I hated her. There was something intoxicating about our battles, about the way we pushed each other to the brink. It was a game, a dance, and I was addicted to it.

But now, things were changing. The lines between hate and desire, between competition and something more, were blurring. And I didn't know how to stop it.

Or if I even wanted to.

As the lecture droned on, I found myself thinking about the kiss again, about the way Riya had looked at me that night. There had been something raw in her gaze, something that mirrored my own feelings. It was like she was daring me to cross a line, to step into the darkness with her.

And God, how I wanted to.

But I had to be careful. I couldn't let her know how deep my obsession went, how much I thought about her, craved her. Not yet. I needed to keep the upper hand, to make sure I was the one in control.

But control was slipping away, little by little.

After class, I decided to confront her again, to push her just a little further. I found her in the library, surrounded by books and papers, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Riya," I said, sliding into the seat across from her.

She looked up, startled, and for a moment, I saw something flash in her eyes-fear, maybe? But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by her usual mask of indifference.

"What do you want, Jeet?" she asked, her voice clipped.

"To talk," I replied, leaning back in my chair, trying to appear casual.

She sighed, clearly not in the mood. "About what?"

"About us," I said, watching her reaction closely.

Her eyes narrowed. "There is no 'us,' Jeet."

"Isn't there?" I countered, leaning forward, lowering my voice. "What happened at the party—"

"Was a mistake," she interrupted, her tone icy. "It won't happen again."

But the way she avoided my gaze told me she didn't believe that. And neither did I.

"Are you sure about that?" I asked, smirking a little as I watched her squirm.

"Absolutely," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

I decided to push her further, to see just how far I could go before she broke. "You know, Riya, I think you're scared."

"Scared? Of you?" She scoffed, but I could see the tension in her posture.

"Not of me," I said quietly. "Of yourself. Of what you want."

Her eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too–something that made my pulse quicken. "You don't know anything about what I want," she hissed.

"Don't I?" I challenged, my gaze locking with hers. "I think you want the same thing I do."

"And what's that?" she asked, her voice shaking just a little.

"To win," I said, but the word carried more weight than it should have. It wasn't just about the competition anymore, and we both knew it.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The tension between us was palpable, a dark current pulling us together even as we tried to fight it.

And then, without another word, she stood up, gathering her things. "I have to go," she muttered, brushing past me as she headed for the door.

I watched her go, a sense of satisfaction mingling with the frustration that churned in my gut. She was running, but she wouldn't be able to run for long. Not from me. Not from what was growing between us.

Whatever this was, it was far from over.