Dil ki Awaaz

CHAPTER -2

                             Sparks in the Storm

The cultural fest meeting had ended, but the tension between Amar Desai and Prem Kapoor remained thick in the air. Amar had barely spoken during the meeting, quietly fuming at the way Prem commanded the room with his easy charm. Everyone adored him, from the faculty advisors to the students, and it only deepened the frustration that Amar had carried since their first year.

As the last of the committee members filed out of the room, Amar stood up, ready to leave. He had no business staying any longer—he had only come to prove a point. But as he turned toward the door, a voice stopped him.

“Leaving so soon?”

Amar froze, recognizing the voice before he even turned around. Prem stood at the other end of the room, leaning against a desk with that signature grin of his, looking as if he had no care in the world.

Amar clenched his jaw, feeling the irritation flare up again. “I came. I listened. Now I’m leaving.”

Prem’s grin didn’t falter as he pushed off the desk and sauntered over to where Amar stood. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment. When he finally stopped in front of Amar, their proximity made the air feel charged.

“You really don’t know how to relax, do you?” Prem asked, his tone teasing but with a hint of something deeper. “It wouldn’t kill you to loosen up, Desai.”

Amar narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need your advice, Kapoor. I’m not here to have fun. I’m here to win.”

Prem chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly as he regarded Amar. “Always so serious. You know, there’s more to college than just competitions and trophies.”

Amar’s fists clenched. “And there’s more to life than playing the clown for everyone’s amusement.”

The comment hit harder than Amar expected. For the first time, Prem’s grin faltered, just for a moment, and Amar saw something flicker in his eyes—something vulnerable, though it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“Is that what you think I am?” Prem asked, his voice quieter now, his usual playful tone absent. “A clown?”

Amar opened his mouth to retort but found himself hesitating. He had meant to hurt Prem, to throw back some of the barbs Prem had used on him over the years, but now that the words were out, they felt too harsh. There was a strange heaviness in Prem’s expression that Amar hadn’t anticipated, and it made him uncomfortable.

“You don’t take anything seriously,” Amar muttered, though the bite in his tone had softened. “You coast through life on your charm and popularity. It’s like nothing ever matters to you.”

Prem’s gaze softened, and he took a step closer. Amar’s breath hitched, though he refused to show any sign of weakness. He wasn’t going to let Prem get under his skin again. But something about the way Prem looked at him now—quiet, thoughtful—made Amar feel as though they were standing on the edge of something unknown, something that neither of them had words for yet.

“You think I don’t care?” Prem asked, his voice low. “You think it’s easy being me? Constantly putting on a show for everyone because they expect me to be the fun, carefree guy all the time?”

Amar blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in Prem’s tone. This wasn’t the lighthearted, teasing Prem Kapoor he was used to. This was something different, something raw.

“But you make it look easy,” Amar said quietly, his anger ebbing away as confusion took its place.

Prem chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s the problem.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of Prem’s words hanging in the air. Amar didn’t know what to say. He had always seen Prem as a nuisance, someone who breezed through life without a care in the world. But now, hearing the vulnerability in Prem’s voice, he realized that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe Prem was dealing with struggles of his own, ones that Amar hadn’t even considered.

Just as Amar was about to speak, the sudden rumble of thunder echoed through the room. Both of them glanced toward the windows, where dark clouds had gathered ominously. The bright afternoon had turned into a stormy evening without them noticing.

“Looks like we’re in for a downpour,” Prem remarked, glancing back at Amar with a small smile.

Amar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Perfect. Just what I needed.”

Prem’s smile widened, and for a moment, the tension between them seemed to lift. “Tell you what, Desai,” he said, stepping closer again. “Why don’t we call a truce? At least for tonight.”

Amar raised an eyebrow. “A truce?”

Prem nodded, his expression genuine. “We don’t have to be enemies all the time, you know. Just for tonight, let’s forget about the rivalry. What do you say?”

Amar hesitated. The idea of a truce with Prem Kapoor was as absurd as it was tempting. But there was something about the storm outside, the quiet tension between them, that made him want to agree. Maybe it was exhaustion from all the years of rivalry, or maybe it was the strange, magnetic pull he felt whenever Prem was near. Whatever it was, Amar found himself nodding.

“Fine,” he said. “Truce.”

Prem’s smile brightened, and he extended a hand. “Deal.”

Amar eyed his hand for a moment before shaking it, the warmth of Prem’s skin sending an unexpected jolt through him. He quickly pulled his hand back, trying to ignore the strange flutter in his chest.

As they stood there in awkward silence, the storm outside intensified, the rain now pounding against the windows in a relentless rhythm. The lights flickered briefly, and Amar glanced around, realizing that most of the campus had probably cleared out by now.

“Looks like we’re stuck here for a while,” Prem said, breaking the silence.

Amar sighed. “Great.”

But despite his annoyance, there was something oddly comforting about the thought of being stuck with Prem. Maybe it was the truce, or maybe it was the realization that, for the first time in years, they weren’t fighting. Whatever it was, Amar didn’t feel the usual anger that he associated with Prem’s presence.

“You know,” Prem said after a moment, leaning against the wall, “I don’t hate you, Amar. In case you were wondering.”

Amar glanced at him, surprised. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Prem chuckled softly. “I mean it. I know we’ve had our… differences, but I never hated you. In fact…” He trailed off, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “In fact, I’ve always kind of respected you. You’re driven, smart, and you don’t let anyone push you around. That’s something I could never do.”

Amar stared at him, unsure of how to respond. He had never expected to hear Prem Kapoor say something like that, let alone to him. It felt strange, hearing those words from his supposed rival. But deep down, a part of him was… glad.

“Thanks,” Amar muttered awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.

Prem smiled again, a softer, more genuine smile than Amar was used to seeing. “You’re welcome.”

The storm outside raged on, but inside the room, the atmosphere between them had shifted. The tension, the rivalry, the years of animosity—it all seemed to fade away, replaced by something new. Something neither of them could quite put into words yet.

As they stood there, side by side, listening to the rain, Amar couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning of something different. Something more.

End of Chapter 2

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