Drawn to trouble. ( Ishman FF)

Chapter 3

After lunch, the students shuffled back to their classes, and the day resumed its usual pace. In the math class, Shubman and Abhishek sat at their usual spot in the back, far from the teacher's watchful eye. However, neither of them was particularly invested in the lesson.

Shubman leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen idly against his notebook. His thoughts were still stuck on the lunch break, specifically on the way Rohit had interacted with Ishan.

Abhishek, noticing his friend’s distraction, smirked. He leaned in and whispered, “You know, while you were busy burning holes in Rohit sir with your glares, I overheard something interesting.”

Shubman shot him a skeptical look. “Kya?”

Abhishek grinned, lowering his voice even more. “Rohit sir said, ‘Nothing wrong with liking someone with a good personality and good biceps.’ I think Ishan sir has a thing for muscular guys.”

Shubman’s brows furrowed. “Aur?” he asked cautiously, though his interest was clearly piqued.

“Well,” Abhishek continued, “if that’s what he likes, why not show him what you’ve got? You’ve been working out like crazy lately. Flex those muscles a bit, and Ishan sir won’t be able to ignore you.”

Shubman smirked, his confidence returning. “Haan, tu sahi bol raha hai. Agar muscles chahiye, toh muscles milenge.” He rolled up his sleeves slightly, revealing his toned forearms. “I’ll make sure he notices.”

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The next day, the art class was in full swing. Ishan moved around the room, guiding students through their projects with his usual gentle demeanor. His voice was calm, encouraging, as he stopped at each desk to offer suggestions or praise.

At the back of the room, Shubman and Abhishek exchanged a quick glance. It was time to put their plan into action.

Abhishek raised his hand first, pretending to be stuck on a sketch. “Sir, can you help us with this?”

Ishan, ever the attentive teacher, walked over with a kind smile. “Of course. Let’s see what you’ve got.” He leaned over the desk, his soft pink lips slightly parted as he examined their work.

Shubman’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes trailed from Ishan’s lips to the strands of hair that gently fell onto his forehead. There was an effortless charm in the way he pushed them back, his movements unassuming yet captivating.

As Ishan began explaining the techniques they could use, his delicate fragrance wafted over to Shubman—sweet and subtle, like fresh strawberries. Shubman swallowed hard, trying to focus, but his gaze wandered further, landing on Ishan’s collarbone and the graceful curve of his neck, partially visible under his shirt.

God, Shubman thought, his mind betraying him with images that weren’t exactly innocent.

“Shubman, are you listening?” Ishan’s voice pulled him back to reality.

Shubman blinked, quickly masking his thoughts with a smirk. “Haan, sir. Bilkul.”

Ishan nodded, seemingly unaware of Shubman’s inner turmoil. “Good. Just try loosening your strokes here,” he said, demonstrating with a pencil. His hand brushed lightly against Shubman’s, sending a small jolt through him.

Shubman clenched his jaw, trying to stay composed. Control yourself, yaar, he mentally scolded.

Meanwhile, Abhishek barely held back a smirk, noticing his friend’s flustered state. Once Ishan moved on to help another student, Abhishek leaned in, whispering, “Kya baat hai, bro? Lagta hai tera plan zyada hi kaam kar raha hai.”

Shubman shot him a warning look. “Chup kar,” he muttered, though his mind was still reeling from Ishan’s proximity.

The art class was running smoothly when Ishan’s phone vibrated on the desk. He glanced at the screen and saw it was a call from the principal. Excusing himself, he stepped out, leaving the class under the students’ quiet supervision.

A few minutes later, Ishan returned, accompanied by a boy who stood slightly behind him. The boy had a soft, shy demeanor, his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides.

“Everyone,” Ishan began, clapping his hands lightly to get the class’s attention, “we have a new student joining us today. This is Mayank.”

Mayank gave a small, hesitant wave, his gaze barely lifting from the floor. “Hi,” he mumbled.

“Make him feel welcome, okay?” Ishan said, smiling warmly. He gestured to an empty seat near the middle of the room. “Mayank, you can sit there.”

As Mayank walked over, Abhishek couldn’t help but stare, his mouth slightly agape. His eyes followed Mayank’s every move, clearly taken by the new boy’s quiet charm.

Noticing this, Shubman smirked and leaned in, whispering, “ Muh to band kar. Makhi ghus jayegi andar.”

Abhishek snapped out of his trance, immediately closing his mouth and shooting Shubman an annoyed look. “Shut up,” he hissed, though his cheeks tinged pink.

Shubman chuckled, shaking his head. “Looks like someone’s already smitten.”

Abhishek muttered something under his breath, but his gaze still flickered back to Mayank every now and then. Meanwhile, Shubman leaned back in his chair, amused by how quickly things had gotten interesting.

As the class wrapped up, students began packing their things, ready to head to their next subject. The sound of chairs scraping and low chatter filled the room.

“Alright, everyone, don’t forget to finish your sketches for tomorrow,” Ishan reminded, his warm smile lingering as the students filed out.

Just as Shubman was about to leave, Ishan’s voice called out, “Shubman, ek minute.”

Shubman paused, turning back with a curious look. “yes, sir?”

Ishan gestured for him to come over. “Woh jo tumne kal doubt pucha tha, uska solution clear hua ya abhi bhi confusion hai?”

Shubman walked over to Ishan’s desk, casually pulling out his sketchbook. “Haan, sir. I think I got it,” he said, handing over the book. His tone was nonchalant, but his confidence was evident.

As Ishan took the book, his eyes unintentionally wandered. The half-sleeve compression shirt Shubman wore clung snugly to his frame, highlighting his toned biceps and the faint outline of his abs. His muscles flexed slightly as he shifted his weight, and Ishan couldn’t help but notice how well-defined they were.

Focus, Ishan, he scolded himself internally, forcing his gaze back to the sketchbook. But the light sheen of sweat on Shubman’s skin and the way the fabric stretched over his chest were hard to ignore. His subtle, woodsy cologne added another layer to the distraction.

“Sir?” Shubman’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“H-huh?” Ishan blinked, realizing he’d been silent for a moment too long. He quickly cleared his throat. “Uh, good work,” he said, his voice a bit higher than usual. “Just keep refining the shading here.” He gestured to a part of the sketch, trying to mask his flustered state.

Shubman nodded, flashing a quick grin. “Thanks, sir. I’ll work on it.”

With that, he turned and left, heading to his next class, completely unaware of the effect he’d had.

As the door closed behind him, Ishan let out a quiet sigh, placing a hand over his face. What’s wrong with you? He’s your student, for heaven’s sake! he berated himself, his cheeks burning.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to shake off the thoughts and refocus. But no matter how hard he tried, the image of Shubman’s confident stride and the way his shirt hugged his body lingered longer than it should have.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and stay tuned for the next one.😘😘