Sunshine and Shadows
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Mahima wasn't one to believe in signs. Not usually. But when a ridiculously good-looking, broody senior accidentally bumped into her at the college fest-his warm hand patting her back in apology, lingering just a second too long-she made a wish. A stupid, completely unserious wish.
If I see him again before Wednesday, it's a sign.
And then she saw him. Again. And again.
Avinash Sehgal, the most unapproachable, painfully reserved senior in the entire master's program. Sharp mind, sharper tongue, and a gaze that could cut through steel. He never spoke much, barely acknowledged most people, and yet, somehow, every time she looked up, he was turning around too-his furrowed brows drawn tight, as if she were the one following him.
Mahima is a whirlwind-too busy, too friendly, and just the right amount of annoying to make Avinash question why he suddenly notices sunshine when she's around. She talks too much, laughs too easily, and somehow, despite his best efforts, worms her way into his space.
It starts with banter. Escalates to stolen glances. Turns into something neither of them is ready for.
Because Avinash might be grumpy, but Mahima? She's the kind of sunshine that burns.
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