Unwavering Desire

Chapter 13

ATHARV'S POV :-

The three days of the Cultural Fest flew by in the blink of an eye. Although Atreyi and I missed the first day, we didn’t let even a second slip by during the next two. We were everywhere—checking light arrangements, calming frantic students, approving last-minute changes. Every detail, big or small, passed through our hands, and somehow, we made it all work. Like a team. Like… rhythm.

We’ve settled into one, really. A rhythm. There’s a quiet understanding between us now—knowing when to let the other speak and when to hold our ground. I’ve noticed her tendency to want a say in everything, and I don’t mind. I simply explain my side—patiently, politely. And she listens. Most of the time.

Today is the fourth and final day of the fest. I can already feel the hum of anticipation in the air. If things run the way they have these past two days—and I believe they will—it’s going to be a flawless close.

Just as I allow myself that reassuring thought, a storm barrels in.

“How dare you ignore my calls? You absolute freak! When I said the girls’ troupe would perform first, I meant it. Was that so hard to understand?” Ah. There she is. My neonata. Fire in her eyes, thunder in her voice, and—unfortunately—not impressed by my brilliant plan to make her day extra special.

It’s alright. I’ll try again next time. There’s always room to improve.

“What happened, neonata? Why are you upset?” I ask—gently, measured. Keyword: politely.

“Don’t you ‘neonata’ me. And stop smiling like that—it makes it hard for me to stay angry. And right now, I need to be angry,” she huffs, before blushing furiously as she realizes what she’s just admitted out loud.

A grin tugs at my lips. She’s adorable when she’s flustered.

“Okay,” I reply, holding back a laugh. “Arrange the performances however you think is best. I trust you. Just… don’t stress yourself, alright?”

I rise from my seat and move toward her. Close enough to inhale that familiar, intoxicating scent—something soft, sweet, and unmistakably her. I’ve memorized it by now.

My hand lifts, almost of its own accord, and I brush my fingers across her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut, surrendering for a brief moment to the touch. I gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and then step back—leaving her in the thick silence between what was and what could be.

That was fun.

But now, it’s time to work.

The General Secretary of the Students’ Union texted me earlier, just before my fireball decided to bless me with her presence. I head to the green room as requested. Inside, a small group of Union members are locked in what appears to be a serious discussion.

They haven’t noticed me yet.

“Atreyi Ma’am will never agree to this,” one of them says. “They don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“They will. Have you seen them together?” another insists. “Sparks fly when they’re even within ten feet of each other! But no, a blind fool like you wouldn’t recognize an enemies-to-lovers arc if it hit you in the face.”

I raise a brow. This one’s got spirit. I like her. Her name’s on the tip of my tongue… starts with an A?

Then the guy beside her mutters, “Aadya, you seriously need to stop reading so many romance novels. It’s affecting your logic.”

Ah, there it is. Aadya. Of course.

Now’s a good time to step in.

“Hey guys! What’s cooking?”