𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

Chapter 19

Dragging my suitcase behind me, I stomped toward the faculty wing like a prisoner being led to execution.

This was a nightmare.

Out of all the people in this world, I had to be roomed with him.

I heard the sound of leisurely footsteps behind me. Mr. Khadoos was walking at his own pace, hands shoved into his pockets, watching me suffer with a smirk that made me want to throw my suitcase at his face.

"Are you always this dramatic, or is this a special performance just for me?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

I stopped dead in my tracks and spun around, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Listen, Professor Khadoos, this is all YOUR fault! If you hadn't been such a loner and actually shared a room with another professor, I wouldn't be stuck with you!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what about your dear friends who abandoned you faster than your math grades drop?"

I gasped. "Excuse me?! My math grades are fine!"

"Really?" He tilted his head mockingly. "Because last time I checked, you were still struggling with basic algebra."

I clenched my jaw. "You are the worst professor ever. Shouldn't you be encouraging your students instead of insulting them?"

"I do encourage my students," he replied smoothly. "I just make an exception for you, Furball."

I groaned. "Stop calling me that!"

He smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Make me."

I turned on my heel, ignoring him as I yanked my suitcase toward our room. The faster I got inside, the faster I could figure out an escape plan.

But the universe clearly hated me because the moment I reached the door and pushed it open...

There was only one bed.

I froze.

Mr. Khadoos stepped beside me, looking at the room with mild amusement before turning to me with a slow, wicked grin.

"Well, well, well..." he drawled. "Looks like the trip just got even more interesting."

I let out a silent scream in my head.

This was going to be a disaster.

I stood at the doorway, blinking rapidly, hoping that maybe—just maybe—if I opened my eyes again, a second bed would magically appear.

Nope. Still one.

I turned my head slowly toward Mr. Khadoos, who was very much enjoying my horror. His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Speechless, Furball?" he teased. "That's a first."

I clenched my fists. "No. Nope. Not happening. I refuse to share a room with you, let alone a bed!"

He casually walked past me, dragging his suitcase inside and setting it down near the wardrobe. "Not much of a choice, is there?" he said, shrugging. "Unless you want to sleep outside in the hallway?"

I inhaled sharply, pressing my fingers to my temples. Think, Maya, THINK!

"I'll talk to the trip coordinator!" I announced, spinning on my heel and storming out of the room.

Five minutes later, I stormed right back inside, looking defeated.

Mr. Khadoos raised an eyebrow from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking way too comfortable for someone who was supposed to be a professor and not a mafia don enjoying my suffering.

"Let me guess," he mused. "No other rooms available?"

I glared. "Oh no, there are rooms available. Just not for me. Because apparently, all the other female students are already paired up, and no professor is willing to swap rooms with you because, quote, 'Professor Rudra prefers his peace and doesn't like sharing.'"

He chuckled. "That's true. I don't like sharing."

I crossed my arms. "Great. Then feel free to sleep outside."

He smirked. "Tempting. But I think I'll stay right here." He patted the bed beside him. "After all, I am your professor. What kind of teacher would I be if I let my beloved student sleep in discomfort?"

I groaned. "You are the absolute worst."

"And yet, you can't seem to escape me." He leaned back, looking smug.

I turned away, grabbing my suitcase and dragging it to the corner of the room. "Fine. We'll just divide the bed with pillows. You stay on your side, and I'll stay on mine."

"Oh, how cute," he mused. "You think a few pillows will stop me?"

I threw one at his face.

I crossed my arms, standing my ground. "Dekho, Mr. Khadoos. Ek hi solution hai—tum bed pe nahi so sakte." (Look, Mr. Khadoos. There's only one solution—you can't sleep on the bed.)

He smirked, leaning against the wardrobe. "Aur kyun nahi? It's my room too." (And why not? It's my room too.)

I scoffed. "Haan, par tum professor ho, aur main student! Samjhe ya samjhaun?" (Yes, but you are a professor, and I am a student! Got it, or should I explain?)

"Toh?" He tilted his head, enjoying my frustration. (So?)

"Toh??!" I threw my hands up. "Agar kisi ne dekh liya toh?? Kal subah newspaper ki headlines dekhna pasand karoge? 'Professor and Student Sharing Bed in Shimla!'" (What if someone sees us?! Would you like to read tomorrow's newspaper headline? 'Professor and Student Sharing Bed in Shimla!')

He chuckled. "Mujhe toh headline thodi boring lag rahi hai. 'Strict Maths Professor Turns Soft for His Student'—yeh zyada dramatic hai." (That headline sounds a little boring to me. 'Strict Maths Professor Turns Soft for His Student'—that's more dramatic.)

I picked up a pillow and launched it at him. "Shut up!"

He caught it effortlessly, still smirking. "Fine, Furball. Tum jeet gayi. Main couch pe so jaunga." (Fine, Furball. You win. I'll sleep on the couch.)

I blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Kya?" He raised an eyebrow. "Tumhe lag raha tha ki main tumhare saath zabardasti bed share karne wala hoon? Please, mujhe itna despo mat samjho." (What? Did you think I was going to forcefully share the bed with you? Please, don't consider me that desperate.)

I narrowed my eyes. "Kya pata? Tum ho bhi bahut shady." (Who knows? You are very shady.)

He laughed softly and walked toward the couch, tossing the pillow down. "Goodnight, Furball. Sweet dreams."

I huffed, climbing onto the bed and pulling the blanket up to my chin. "Buri tarah se neend aayegi mujhe agar tum paas ho." (I'll get the worst sleep ever if you're near me.)

"Bas sapne mein mujhe mat dekh lena." (Just don't see me in your dreams.)

"TU CHUP KAR!!!" (SHUT UP!!!)

His laughter echoed through the room.

The room was quiet now, except for the faint ticking of the clock and the soft sound of her breathing.

I shifted slightly on the couch, resting my head on my arm as I turned to look at her.

Maya.

My little troublemaker who always finds a way to get on my nerves.

But right now? She looked nothing like the feisty, fire-spitting, non-stop chattering girl she usually was.

Her face was completely relaxed, her long lashes resting softly against her cheeks. A few strands of her hair had fallen over her face, shifting slightly with every breath she took. She was curled up under the blanket, hugging it tightly as if someone would take it away.

For someone who caused absolute chaos when she was awake, she looked so peaceful while sleeping.

I always thought her brain was wired wrong. But apparently, even in her sleep, she was just as crazy.

Her nose scrunched slightly, and she mumbled something under her breath.

I leaned in a little, trying to catch what she was saying.

"No... the paratha is mine..."

I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh.

"Don't take it from me..."

God. Even in her dreams, she was fighting over food.

I sighed, shaking my head. "No one is taking your paratha, Furball. Just sleep."

As if she somehow heard me, she let out a tiny sigh and turned to the other side, half-burying her face into the pillow.

I should sleep too. I had no business staying up and watching her like this.

But... just one more minute.

One more minute, and then I'll sleep.

Atleast, that's what I told myself.

But my eyes never left her face.

And sleep never came.

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