Pearl glanced down at her hands, trying to distract herself from the heat rising in her chest. Her heart was racing, and she hated it. She shouldn't be feeling this way—not about him. Not about someone who made her want to scream one moment and kiss him the next.
Vansh leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully. There was something about the way he watched her that made her skin prickle, like he could see straight through her.He tilted his head slightly. "What's the matter? Lost for words?"
Pearl[mocking]:"No, just trying to figure out how I haven't slapped you yet."
He smirked again, but this time, there was something softer in his gaze. His voice lowered, almost serious."I don't think you will."
Pearl[snapping]:"Oh, really? You're that confident?"
Vansh:"More like I'm starting to think you enjoy the tension between us. The push and pull."
She froze. He was right. Something about their back-and-forth made her feel alive in a way she couldn't explain. But she wasn't about to admit that. Not to him.
Pearl[trying to deflect]:"Maybe. Or maybe you're just so irritating, I can't stop reacting to you."
He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous tone again. "You keep calling me irritating... but when was the last time you stopped thinking about me?"
Her heart skipped a beat. He was getting under her skin. In a way that made her want to fight back, but also... something else.
Pearl[quiet, almost a whisper]:"I don't know what you're talking about."
Vansh[softly, with a hint of a smile]:"Of course you do. You're just too proud to admit it."
The room seemed to close in around them. For the first time, there was no game. No insults. Just the raw, undeniable tension between them.
Pearl took a shaky breath. She wasn't sure whether to push him away or pull him closer. The line between hate and something else was blurring faster than she wanted to admit.
Vansh:"You know, it's okay to stop pretending. To admit that maybe, just maybe, we're more alike than you think."
Her eyes flickered up to his, searching for the usual cocky smirk—but it wasn't there. Instead, there was a quiet sincerity she hadn't expected. And it threw her off.
Pearl[staring at him, hesitant]:"I don't know what game you're playing, Vansh... but I don't plan to be part of it."
He stared back, his gaze dark but steady. Then, after a long beat, he whispered:
Vansh:"Too late. You're already in it."
Pearl felt her heart still racing, but she quickly masked it with a sharp exhale. She wasn't about to let him get the best of her, not when they were supposed to be working on a project.
Pearl:[letting out a frustrated sigh]"Ugh. Yes, project time. We're supposed to research Indian economic history. Not... whatever this is."
Vansh smirked but didn't press any further. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking to the bookshelf across the room.
Vansh:"Ah, yes. The dreaded project. Fine, fine. I'll let you off the hook—for now."
He stood up, his movements deliberate as he made his way to the bookshelf. His voice dropped back to its usual teasing tone.
Vansh:"Let's see... Indian economic history. Sounds riveting."
He scanned the shelves, his fingers trailing over the spines of old, dusty books. Pearl rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips.
Pearl:"I swear, if you crack a joke about this again, I will—"
Vansh:"What? Slap me?"(He glanced back with a raised eyebrow.)"Go ahead, but I warned you. It might end up being more interesting than the actual project."
She shot him a glare, but there was no venom in it this time. Despite herself, she felt the edges of the tension slip away as the normalcy of the project started to set in.
Vansh:(pulling a book from the shelf)"Here. This looks promising. History of Indian Economic Policies."
He tossed the book onto the table in front of her. Pearl shot him a look but didn't say anything, focusing on the task at hand—no matter how much she hated the way his presence seemed to throw her off balance.
As they both settled into the work, the moment between them felt like it had shifted. No more teasing. No more games. But she could feel it—the tension was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. And maybe... just maybe, she didn't mind it so much