******With English Subtitles*******
Seetha, a timid Brahmin Student, bravely confesses her love to Aayush Kumar, her stern yet secretly compassionate Professor, only to be harshly scolded for her audacity.
Heartbroken, she returns home and discover...
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My heart skipped a beat as my body was suddenly trapped between his arms. Before I could even process the moments that had unfolded between us in my own classroom, or grasp what he was trying to do, another shock hit me.
He tightened his embrace, holding me firmly-his right palm resting on my upper arm, while his left one settled just beneath it. The touch of his broad arms around me was so warm, and once again, I felt that same sense of home.
The mere thought of him hugging me sent goosebumps all over my body. But when I heard him say those words,
Vittu poitan'nu nenachaaraa?
(Did he think that I left him alone?)
I sighed, curling my hands around his neck as he bent down to my height, already. Then, after my quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, I gently patted his back. Thankfully, we were alone, so I finally spoke, trying to comfort him, saying,
"Naan enga sir po por.."
(Where did I..)
But the words caught in my throat, and my eyes widened in shock when I felt his tears on my shoulder.
What the hell?
I quickly pushed him away and met his gaze, his tears streaming down-tears I couldn't stand, whether they fell for me or anyone else.
That's why I tried to help him see the other world of speaking to his mother instead of crying endlessly. But the moment I realized he was crying for me, it only ignited my anger-anger towards myself and towards him.
(Are you crazy? Why are you crying now? Am I going to leave you? I never left you when you scolded me, so why would you think I would now just because you're closer to me? Can't you use your brain? Wipe your tears first)
I snapped at him as he sniffled like a kid, wiping his face with the back of his hand, which melted my heart. So, composing myself with a sigh, I stretched out my hand towards him, offering my handkerchief.
"Indhaanga"
(Here)
He took the kerchief and opened it, glancing at me while analyzing its size, clearly smaller than his. I knew that men always preferred bigger handkerchiefs than women. My father, uncle, and cousins had all done the same.
