The Right Kind of Wrong

7. Tension Builds

Savi could feel the weight of Rajat's gaze as she walked into the library, her heart racing. Their previous interactions had been a rollercoaster of emotions, each encounter fraught with tension, annoyance, and an inexplicable attraction that she was desperate to ignore.

"Look who decided to show up," Rajat remarked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm as she approached the table. He was already immersed in his notes, a casual confidence radiating off him.

"Did you expect me to drop out after our last session?" Savi shot back, crossing her arms defiantly. "Or were you hoping I'd magically have all the answers for you?"

Rajat leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing playfully. "I just thought you might be overwhelmed by the pressure of working with someone so brilliant."

"Brilliant?" Savi scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You're delusional if you think I'm intimidated by you."

"Good," he replied, his expression unchanging. "Because I don't need another underperformer on my hands."

Savi's fists clenched at her sides. "You really think I'm an underperformer? Just because I don't act like I own the place doesn't mean I'm not capable."

"I never said that," he said, raising an eyebrow. "But maybe if you let your guard down for once, you'd realize that working together could actually benefit you."

"Let my guard down? Why would I do that?" Savi replied, her voice rising slightly. "I'm not here to coddle your ego."

"And I'm not here to babysit you," Rajat retorted, leaning forward. "We need to make this project work, so you might want to stop being so stubborn."

"Stubborn? I'm just not interested in conforming to your idea of teamwork," Savi shot back, her irritation boiling over. "I have my own approach."

"And what's that? Avoidance?" Rajat asked, a hint of mockery in his tone.

"Better than being a know-it-all," Savi snapped, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth.

"Look, if you're going to keep playing the blame game, this project is going to end in disaster," he said, his voice steady but firm. "We have to find common ground, and fast."

Savi glared at him, but his intensity made her falter. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

"Let's lay out our research and then outline how we want to present our findings," Rajat replied, his demeanor shifting to a more collaborative tone. "That way, we both have a clear direction."

Savi hesitated, her irritation still simmering beneath the surface. "Okay. But if I end up doing all the work, I'm going to be very unhappy."

"Trust me, I have no intention of letting that happen," he said, a smirk creeping back onto his face.

As they worked through their research, the tension remained thick in the air. Rajat would occasionally glance at Savi, the flicker of respect evident in his eyes as she articulated her ideas. She felt a strange satisfaction in his attention, but the annoyance crept back just as quickly.

"Here's a point we need to address," Savi said, tapping her pen on a particularly dense article. "This statistic doesn't make sense in the context of our analysis."

Rajat leaned closer, his brow furrowing as he examined the text. "You're right. It doesn't. But it's still relevant to our overall argument."

"Only if we can find a way to tie it into our narrative," Savi countered, her frustration bubbling. "Otherwise, we'll just confuse our audience."

"Good point," Rajat conceded, his tone softer. "Let's find a way to incorporate it without overwhelming our argument."

As they continued, Savi couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in Rajat's attitude. He was becoming more engaged, his sarcasm less biting and more playful. Each time their eyes met, there was an electricity that buzzed between them, setting her on edge.