Saumya Anoop Mathur is a good girl.
She’s always been.
She was when she was young, she is when she’s older. The one thing that her experience did not take away from Saumya was that she was a good girl. She was respectable to her elders. She was polite to her neighbours. She was supportive to her friends. She was helpful to strangers. She was a good girl.
Who was she kidding?
Saumya has always been a naughty girl. She disrespected the elders spoke to her like she was a child. She used impolite words to describe the stupidity their neighbours engaged in. She mocked and teased her friends regularly. She was first to point out how strangers could do it better and then she helped them do it better. She was a naughty, naughty girl.
At least she was when she was young. Another thing was taken away from her was the permission to be naughty.
Naughty girls get punished.
Saumya had long since stopped being naughty when she realised that her being naughty had nothing to do with what all had transpired.
Her naughtiness was so far back in the list of reasons why she went through what she went through.
But. It had returned twofold.
No. Threefold.
Maybe a Hundredfold?
The thing was Saumya was a naughty girl, and she had forgotten how to be one properly.
The immediate guilt that came when she felt she was being naughty was not something she was familiar with.
She wanted to be guilt free when she disrespected Hridhaan’s and Paankhi’s parents for his sake. She wanted to be guilt free when she laughed in incredulity at the stupidity of their neighbours. She wanted to be guilt free when she mocked Paankhi for her attitude and teased Hridhaan and Krish for their crushes. She wanted to be guilt free when she helped her team from some stupid boys and asked those rude boys to leave them alone by speaking in Shuddh Hindi and making them think that she was a witch that would curse them into oblivion.
She wanted to be guilt free for whatever that was happening inside her about him.
For the new things and feelings that were developing within her because of him.
For the new experiences she was gaining because of him.
For things she wanted to do for him.
For him.
For her Jeet Sir.
The fact of the matter was that Saumya had never had someone like her Jeet Sir in her life before.
The boys she usually associated with were not people who could make any impact in her life. The most impactful men in her life before him were her father, her brother, her best-friend and as loath as she is to admit it, her uncle. Rest of them existed in the spectrum of people she knew but people who ultimately didn't matter.
Then came him.
All in his shirtless glory.
She could not believe her eyes, a boy, a person really, her age even, was shameless enough to be without his clothes in a college full of people who are free to look at him, people who are allowed to look at him, people he is allowing to look at him.
This boy, she had thought, was scary.
People for whom decorum did not matter had always been scary for Saumya. At first, it was because they were unhinged in a way that made Saumya naughty, and then, in a way that they did not care for her person at all.
She had been scared of him, yet she was unable to look away.
Enough that he had noticed.
"Pehle inhe jee bhar ke taad toh lene dijiye", he had said while she had stuttered in denial.
Where was the lie though?
She had been staring.
She had been naughty.
Something she hadn’t been in a long time.
Just one glance, she had thought, curious, never before having seen a boy, shirtless and fit. Hot, if she dared herself to agree. Boys were so out of the purview of anything Saumya had chanced a second glance to that just one glance turned to two, then three and the rest, as they say, was history.
Nonetheless, the guilt that immediately followed for that first time she had allowed herself to look at a boy, because he was just that then, a boy, was something crush-worthy. She had felt an insane remorse at looking at him when he had not given her his consent to do so.
His implied consent had not mattered then. He was shirtless in a public place, what was one supposed to do if not look?
Unfortunately for Saumya, it did not work that way. The way she was unable to meet his eyes for centuries after their first meeting was equal parts finding him scary and being regretful for looking at him when he hadn’t explicitly allowed her to.
What right did she have to look at a boy and find him attractive?
What right did she have to take just one glance at him?
Did she even have the right to be naughty anymore?
She realised soon that it did not matter what rights she had or not.
Because taking just one glance, that turned to two or three sometimes, was slowly becoming a habit.
A habit that had turned from just one glance, two glances, to sometimes three and then she just stared at him, fully ignoring the remorse and the guilt and the feeling that she was being naughty and what she was doing was wrong, she just couldn’t stop herself from looking at him.
But, but, it felt like it was important to specify that it was just this one boy she had the habit of glancing at. Saumya learned early on that a co-ed college, while taking her time to adjust, was the right decision for her. She herself felt more confident talking to boys and cursing the rude boys in her Shuddh Hindi became somewhat of past time.
But the thing about boys was that they had egos the size of their pea brains and one such boy who she had the misfortune of dealing with had decided that he would not take her sophisticatedly cursing him out lightly. Cue the prank war that Saumya had involuntarily entered in.
The boy, his name was Ayaan, had realised he had been essentially called stupid in a language he had less understanding of and had been kind of a rage baiter. Silly pranks that consisted of light-hearted teasing that felt so different from whatever Shaurya had been pulling, so Saumya didn’t do anything about it.
Except she let her naughty self, the one she hidden for so long, come out to play.
The day she called him stupid in Shuddh Hindi, he wrote an elaborate Sher in Urdu, one she had to google to understand the meaning of, which basically called her a child that was lost in world she didn’t know how to navigate. She shrugged and decided to send him children’s toys in every lecture he attended with a Happy Birthday Card, implying that he was the child. He sent her soft toys the next day. She made an AI video of him in the cartoon Tom&Jerry, replacing Tom’s face with his as Jerry defeated him and played it in the Theatre Practise Room, of which he was the president of, and in return, she found fake and plastic bugs, and lizards, and mouses surrounding her the entirety of the next day.
It was not serious. It was funny.
They both knew they were only playing.
Their friends did not.
They thought that they needed to stop this fighting and locked them in the supply closet.
This is what I get, thought Saumya, for being naughty.
She looked up at him, he was at least ten feet away from her, and he explained, truthfully, she realised, “I don’t know in log ke dimaag mein kya chal raha hai Saumya. I’m sorry. Yeh log ek silly prank war ka itna bada batangar bana lenge I didn’t know.”
She nodded. She knew he meant no harm. Ayaan was not that kind of guy. She knew.
But she felt nervous all the same.
He moved another feet away from her, maybe sensing her discomfort, maybe because he realised that she had gone nonverbal when she didn’t react to his apology except nodding, but he surely didn’t realise that he was going to bump into the rack behind him. She watched as a bottle fell on top of him, and she realised it was ammonia by the rotten smell that filled the small room.
She watched as he hissed and moved to take off his shirt, wincing at the smell. She watched on, unable to say anything as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. She waited, for the urge to take just one glance at the one more naked boy she will see in her lifetime, and she waited for the crushing remorse that would follow at her inability to control herself.
Only, it didn’t happen.
Her body physically turned around from him before she could even chance a glance.
She did not want to look.
She could stop herself from looking.
The joy she felt at the return of her self-control was immense and she clapped.
She could hear the incredulity in his voice when he asked, “Seriously, abhi tum mere pe cleaning products girne pe khush ho rahi ho.”
She scoffed, “Mein sirf tumhari agyaanta se achimbit aur tumhari murkhta se sambhavit hun. Aur iss baat se bhi swabhavit hun ke aap ko iss baat ki anubhuti nahi hai ki joh safai utpad aap par gira hai usse ammonia kehte hai.”
Ayaan sighed, “Seriously, Saumya. Hum dono jaante hai ki mein on the spot Urdu Shayari use karke tumhe ulta jawaab nahi de paaunga. So please. Mujhe apni Hindi mein chaar tareekon se stupid bulane ke bajaye, can you please just, I don’t know, help me?”
Saumya sighed in return, and slowly began to turn around, only she didn’t need to. Because the door to the supply closet opened, and there he was, in all his glory, her Jeet Sir.
He looked at her, and then looked at Ayaan, he looked at her nervous posture and looked at the unclothed boy behind her and immediately reached to the worse conclusion possible and crossed the eleven feet between her and Ayaan, to possibly thrash him, all before she could even get a word out.
Ayaan backed away from Jeet Sir, his eyes panicked as he looked at her while side stepping him and pleaded with her to save him. Saumya, finally realising what was about to happen immediately moved to stop between him and Ayaan, her hands in front of her because he would never cross the line without her consent.
He stopped, his eyes betraying the fact that he felt betrayed at her interference. She did not understand why he would feel bad that she did not want him to hit anyone. She had been against the violence he sometimes resorted to from the day they had met.
She calmed down and explained, quickly, “Mere aur Ayaan ke friends ko laga ke hum dono ke prank wars ko band karne ke liye unhe humein ek room mein band karke humse baat karwani chahiye. Hum kuch baat kar hi paate ki Ayaan ke upar ammonia gir gayi. Isiliye usne shirt nahi pehni. Aap jaisa sochrahe hai waisa kuch nahi hai. Ayaan ne koi badtameezi nahi kari hai.”
She could feel Ayaan nod behind her as she explained, and she could see his eyes shift from her to Ayaan’s behind her, before he nodded.
He took a step back.
He waited a moment, and then he began unbuttoning his own shirt. His gaze did not move away from her as he took off his shirt, still covered by the vest he wore underneath, and threw his shirt behind her. The whoosh sound of his shirt passing by her before it stopped abruptly indicating that Ayaan caught it did register to her, but she did not pay it any mind.
No.
No, see her mind was busy. Busy because he was shirtless, not fully, no, but partially, enough for Saumya’s urges to take just one glance at him rose again, quite relentlessly. Her gaze moved away from his first, taking in his handsomeness altogether in the first glance, before she urged herself to look him in the eyes again. For the second glance, she concentrated on his strong shoulders, and his sharp collarbones, stealing a glance at his beautiful Adam’s apple, before she gulped and met his gaze again and looked away again. For her third glance, she could not take her eyes of his biceps, his forearms, as they presented in all their bare glory.
She blushed.
She felt naughty again.
She met his gaze only to realise that he was smirking at her reaction.
He chuckled, softly, that soft laugh she had never seen him direct at anyone else.
She blushed harder.
He whistled as he turned, almost strutting away from her, like he was putting on a show, looking like he knew exactly what he was doing.
It was mortifying, the fact that she could not stop staring.
She stared on as he walked away, she stared as he was gone and she stared at the empty space he had left behind until her staring was rudely interrupted by the guy who she had not even had the tiniest bit of urge to look at.
He looked at her like he had just discovered something about her.
She panicked and he laughed at her, teasing, “Saumya, Saumya, Saumya. Him, really? The guy who is famously popular for having all the girls behind him? How could you be so obvious Saumya?”
She huffed, “Haa, jaise ki tumhara crush Tanya pe obvious nahi hai.”
He spluttered, “Tumhe kaise pata?”
She scoffed, “At this point, sirf Tanya ko nahi pata. Usse time kaha hai---”
She stopped herself forcefully, she needn’t have when Ayaan sighed, “Krish ke alawa kissi ko bhi dekhne ka.”
Saumya did feel guilty for bringing it up, it was clearly something he was sensitive about, but he bounced back the next moment though, and teased in return, “But Jeet toh sirf tumhe dekhta hai.”
She was the one spluttering this time, “Kya. Kuch bhi. Matlab. Kuch bhi.”
He snorted, “Saumya. My bro. Tum itni smart hoke bhi itni stupid kaise ho. He was literally putting on a show for you, and he was happy that you were watching.”
Her face, she imagined, was basically a tomato as she denied, although Ayaan shook his head, “Nuh. Uh. Bro. I am, what many people would consider, hot.”
Saumya was impressed by his vanity. However, she did notice that Jeet Sir’s shirt seemed to fit him well. Not entirely misplaced on him, just not his style.
He continued nonetheless, “But tumne mujhe dekha bhi nahi, and he got so angry. Woh ruka bhi because you asked. Warna aaj toh yeh Ayaan vyayam karne layak nahi bachta. And then he put on a show because he thought ke tumne meri hot body ko dekh liya hai. And you watched. You watched the hell out of it. And he enjoyed making you watch.”
She sighed, “Ayaan, please isse bhul jaao. Joh bhi chal raha hai, joh bhi mere aur Jeet Sir ke beech mein hai, woh sirf humaare beech mein nahi hai. Mere Papa ne mujhe unse dur rehne ke liye kaha hai, aur meri raaye ki kissi ko nahi padhi hai kyunki Jeet Sir ne Papa se keh diya ki woh mujhse dur rahenge.”
Ayaan smirked, “Meri nazar se dekho toh Jeet Sir tumse dur reh hi nahi sakte.”
Saumya groaned, “Hey Bhagwan, tum aur Krish ekdam same ho.”
Ayaan grinned, “Does that mean ke mein Tanya ka type hun.”
Saumya exhaled, at the end of her patience, walking out of the supply closet with Ayaan in her tow. Teasing her while she huffed in exasperation.
That day, Saumya made a friend and realised that she only wanted to take glances at Jeet Sir.
That he was the only one she could not turn away from.
Every time, every single time she had promised herself just one glance in his vicinity, it had turned more than a glance, and she had spiralled into staring. From the shower in the garage to the daily exercises he does on the rooftop. From his shirtlessness to his partial shirtlessness, she stared at him in every stage of nudity he was available in.
While she did feel like shit for looking at him from behind the pillars unbeknownst to him, the attraction he garnered within her felt so new to her. She felt like a different person, a girl who could be normal in her attraction, when she looked at him.
She knew she needed to unlearn this habit if she had any chance to survive the draught her father had induced upon her.
Jeet Sir, despite knowing when she needed him and when she wanted him, was almost never anywhere near her for the rest of the time of the day. It was like he had a sensor installed, which beeped whenever she so much as thought of him.
It was getting a bit ridiculous.
Her father’s weird obsession with her staying away from him, which she knew was fuelled by her uncle, was getting ridiculous. While she could never consider any decisions he made incorrect, this decision felt more and more ridiculous as days passed by.
They lived in the same house, Saumya wanted to shout at the top of her lungs.
Alas, she had not grown naughty enough to openly defy her father.
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But she did defy him in other ways.
There was a football match.
Ayaan was a player.
Ayaan was her friend.
Ayaan knew Tanya was her friend.
Hence, Ayaan had asked (blackmailed) her to bring Tanya to his match.
At this point, Saumya was just glad that Jeet Sir and Ayaan were in the same team because she did not know how she would justify cheering for Ayaan and showing Tanya how awesome Ayaan was without angering Jeet Sir.
Not that he would mind her cheering for the other team.
At least, she thought that he wouldn’t.
But the ones to come along were not just Tanya, no, it was all of them.
It was Tanya and Paankhi and Hridhaan and Krish.
She didn’t get how it had turned to this.
She looked at the field and Ayaan waved at her, and she waved back. She took just one glance at him, Jeet Sir, to see his jaw clenched.
The second glance noticed how his biceps strained the jersey he wore. The third glance noticed how his thigh muscles looked unnecessarily strong.
Oh, she thought, if it was as easy to unlearn whatever strange habits she would develop in this lifetime.
She blushed and looked away and then realised that Hridhaan was no longer with them. She looked questioningly at her friends and Paankhi answered, “Oh, Hridhaan Jeet ko all the best bolne gaya hai.”
And Saumya snorted. She would never get what was going on between them, but their brotherhood was all cute and weird at the same time.
The match began, Hridhaan did not return, opting to stay near the field.
Jeet Sir played as he usually did, aggressive and beautiful.
Ayaan was meh.
They won the match, two to one.
They celebrated.
Saumya and her friends left their benches and went to congratulate them.
Jeet Sir stayed away, disappointing her again.
Her eyes strayed to him periodically, while he talked to his teammates, while he played with the football, while he drank water, while he poured the rest of his bottle over his head, while he shook his head like a dog, water droplets letting go of his beautiful hair, while he stood there, beautiful and someone she could not take her eyes away from.
It was Ayaan, whose attempts to flirt with Tanya finally got her tuned into the conversation happening amongst her friends, “Come on Tanya. Seriously. I scored one of the goals. Shouldn’t I get something from the prettiest girl here.”
And he was laying it on a bit thick, but he was a safe distance away from her, and his tone was friendly and Saumya really felt that Ayaan was one of the good guys out there.
However, before Tanya could reply, she was interrupted, by him.
Jeet Sir.
He threw the football he held in his arm to Ayaan, who caught it easily, as he teased, “Iss hisaab se toh mujhe bhi kuch milna chahiye. Ek goal toh meine bhi maara hai yaar.”
Ayaan scoffed, “Agar tumne apne pair padh khud kulhaari maar rakhi hai toh iss mein main kya kar sakta hun?”
Saumya glared at him as Ayaan wiggled his eyebrows at her, winking at Jeet Sir.
He frowned, his arm wrapping around Ayaan’s shoulder, nearly choking him, as he threatened, “Teri chappar chappar bahut badh nahi gayi hai aaj kal, haan? Chapparganju.”
Ayaan tapped at his arm in a universal sign of surrender as their friends laughed at them, while Saumya exhaled in relief.
Her gaze met his and he looked away.
It was ridiculous.
“Anyway,” Ayaan began again, “Tanya. Coffee?”
Hridhaan interrupted the most genuine attempt Ayaan had made, “Ayaan, bus ho gaya ab. Let’s go.”
He looked annoyed, and Saumya didn’t get why. Why was he interrupting this cute little boy asking a cute little girl on what she hoped was a cute little coffee date? She did not understand, but she saw as Ayaan’s face fell. She looked at her newest friend and asked, “Kyun Hridhaan? At least Tanya ko jawaab toh dene do.”
Hridhaan turned to look at her, astonished at her insistence, but Saumya had her eyes on Tanya, and she watched as Tanya stole a glance at Krish and then Paankhi, before she met Saumya’s gaze, who nodded in encouragement.
Tanya looked away then, “Okay.”
She looked up at Ayaan and nodded slowly, “Let’s go. Coffee.”
“What? Really?”, asked Hridhaan and Ayaan at the same time.
While Ayaan was excited and grinned and looked like the fool Saumya knew him to be, Hridhaan was incredulous, a little angry and a lot more irritated.
Saumya tried to explain, “Hridhaan. Ek coffee hi toh hai. Agar Tanya ko acha nahi laga toh woh Ayaan se kabhi bhi naa keh sakti hai.”
Hridhaan looked at her and asked incredulously, “Aur woh maan jaayega?”
Saumya chuckled, and looked at Ayaan, remembering the eleven feet between them, and answered, “Haan, maan jaayega.”
Hridhaan, clearly mad, walked away from then, and Saumya really did not understand where the overprotective brother was coming from. Hridhaan never behaved like this with Paankhi.
She shrugged, her gaze moving to Ayaan, who was grinning like he was winning and she couldn’t help but be happy for him.
Ayaan too looked at her, happy and excited. He looked between her, Hridhaan and Jeet Sir, before his face twisted into an almost sinister smirk as his eyes filled with mischief.
He was about to do something.
She didn’t have time to realise before Ayaan was putting the football down and calling out to Hridhaan and kicked the ball as soon as Hridhaan turned around, the ball hitting him straight in the chest. At least, she was relieved to realise, he puffed his chest out, straightened his shoulders and leaned back so that the ball would bounce off his chest, but the damage was done.
There was now a muddy football print on Hridhaan’s pristine white shirt.
Hridhaan hollered while he took off his shirt, “What the f*ck was that for?”
Ayaan beamed, “Just because you wanted Tanya to say no.”
Saumya turned around as soon as she Hridhaan made his way back towards them, whilst taking off his shirt. Her gaze met Ayaan’s who looked no different than cheshire cat and if this had been the Yug of Gods, he would be ash by the fire Saumya thew at him with her eyes.
Hridhaan stood just behind her and Suamya had never wanted to not be somewhere.
The urge to look was absent.
The desire to take just one glance was negative.
The way she wanted to run away was apparent.
In front of her stood one of her stupid friends as he bantered with Hridhaan and him, Jeet Sir.
His gaze was on hers, and she couldn’t meet his eyes.
What must he think of me, her mind asked.
That she looks at me like that and cannot even look at someone else like that, her heart answered.
Her discomfort would have irked him, enough that his hands found the hem of his jersey. She watched as he threw his arms over his head, the jersey coming off smoothly.
She gaped.
Why was he like this?
Why was he doing this?
Was he testing her?
What if he was actually testing her?
His gaze didn’t leave her this time as he threw the jersey over her head at Hridhaan, not paying attention to the gratitude Hridhaan offered.
She could feel his gaze burning her as he towered over her.
He didn’t lean down to meet her gaze.
He didn’t say anything.
She looked up at him, all of him, again shirtless, again pretty, again beautiful, and she met his eyes.
His eyes that were burning with something.
Something she did not recognise.
She looked away, but just as usual, just one glance was never enough for her.
When she met his gaze again it seemed like he was patiently waiting, waiting for her to look again.
She looked away, and then almost immediately, embarrassingly, looked back.
He chuckled, and turned away from her, strutted away from her, same as that day.
She didn’t look away.
She couldn’t look away.
He was definitely testing her.
He was testing her on purpose whether she would look away or stare.
Saumya had not yet unlearned her habit of staring.
Suddenly, Ayaan was in front of her, his face still that of a cheshire cat, as he offered her a fist bump he whispered, “Yeh tha thank you. Tanya ko yaha lane ke liye, aur usse uska decision khud lene mein help karne keliye.”
She stared daggers at him, then at his fist, then back at him. She could not believe he was thanking her by embarrassing her by putting on this ridiculous show. Her jaw clenched as she huffed and turned away from him, walking away from the most annoying friend she had made, a friend she was considering strangling.
She did not respond to any calls from her friends as she heard Ayaan guffawing in the background.
See if she helps him with his crush now.
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After that day it was like something had broken.
A partially naked Jeet Sir was everywhere in her peripheral.
The frequency of his shirtless workouts increased from four times to six times a week.
He started cleaning his bike shirtless, and a wet Jeet Sir was graced on Saumya.
He started lifting his shirt to wipe his sweat and showing a peak of his abs whenever she was in his vicinity, something he had never done before.
He would randomly take of his shirt and roam around the college in just his vest, flaunting those shoulders and biceps.
He was everywhere.
Saumya had never failed to unlearn a habit this spectacularly.
She took more than just one glance. She stared and tried not to stare, and she failed miserably and it became a distraction.
Not his nakedness.
No.
Never.
The oohs and aahs of all the girls in the college.
The ones who did not mind or felt guilt or were not afraid to look at him.
Saumya gritted her teeth as she heard one more girl fawn over him.
She looked at him disbelievingly.
What was he even doing, she asked herself.
There he was, at the football ground, his shirt halfway on his body, one arm covered by his shirt and the other exposed to everyone who could see, while he did push ups one handedly, using the arm that was not covered by his shirt.
She watched as he got up and hi-fied Ayaan as he laughed and her jaw clenched as she saw the gaggle of girls looking at him from the bench.
Saumya was done.
If this was a test, then fine, she failed.
But she couldn’t go through one more moment of this.
She entered the football ground, she watched him turn around as Ayaan looked at her and waved, she did not say anything as he stared at her intensely, and she stood in front of him.
He raised his eyebrows in question, and she leaned forward, feeling a quiet satisfaction as she watched his eyes widening in shock. She, however, concentrated on the task she had undertaken, and grabbed the sleeve that hanged behind his back, the sleeve that he had rendered useless while he worked out with the arm that was supposed to be covered by that sleeve.
She fisted that sleeve in her hand, unable yet, to grab his wrist, she pulled him away from there, from the place where hundreds of eyes were on them.
She dragged him away from the eyes of people, girls, to a place where only her eyes were on him.
Her back still faced him as they reached behind the college building, away from prying eyes, and then she let go of his sleeve, and asked, “Apni shirt pehniye Sir.”
She didn’t turn to look at him, and he didn’t answer. A beat passed and she heard the rustling.
She turned around to face him, happy that he had listened to her, but turned back again suddenly when she realised he taken off his shirt, fully.
She groaned and he chuckled, walking around her so that she faced him and he stood in front of her, and asked, “Jab dekhna chahti ho toh khud ko kyun rok rahi ho Junior?”
She looked up at him, baffled.
What.
He laughed at her bafflement and explained, “Itni badhiya body dikhane ke liye hi toh banai hai.”
She turned away from him at his teasing.
How could he do this to her, she thought.
She had been feeling so guilty, so remorseful, looking without his consent but unable to stop anyway and here he was, mocking her.
“Acha lagta hai,” he continued, his voice unusually heavy, making her turn around to face him again, “---jab tum dekhti ho toh.”
He took a step towards her, towering over her, yet not touching her, “Acha lagta hai, jab kissi aur ladke ko dekhne se pehle tum muh modh leti ho, par mujhe dekhte waqt tumhari aankhein khud ko rok nahi paati.”
He leaned down, his gaze meeting hers, “Woh halki si guilt, par khud ko, uske bawajood, rok nahi paati ho, woh bhi acha lagta hai.”
She glanced up, “Sir---”
He interrupted her, “Meri permission hai Junior. Waise bhi, tumhare liye apne aap ko kuch karne se kabhi rok bhi nahi paaya hun.”
She gulped and chanced a glance at what he had given her permission to see. Given her consent to see.
He was beautiful. He had always been. That was why she wasn’t ever able to look away. And she would never have to, because he had allowed her to.
She met his gaze, a thousand unsaid things passing between them, things they were still not able to say, things they may never say, but for now, this was good.
It was good that Saumya could finally be a little naughty.
It was good that she found him beautiful.
It was good that she found him attractive.
It was good, that she found a person, attractive.
It was good, that she found a boy, attractive.
It was good, that she found a man, attractive.
It was good, that Saumya was attracted to her Jeet Sir.
It was good, that Jeet Sir liked that Saumya was attracted to him.
Anupamaa
Sports
Cricket
6