The next morning felt... heavy.

The sky wore a shade darker than usual, the clouds lazy, swollen with unspilled rain.

It was as if the weather had overheard everything that wasn't said between Anvi and Aarav yesterday - and now, it waited for someone to do something about it.

But inside the school, life moved on like always.

Bells rang.

Shoes squeaked.

Teachers signed attendance sheets.

And yet, for two people, time had taken on a different rhythm - slower, softer, uncertain.

---

"Sir, file check kar lijiye," a student from 12-C handed over a thick binder of project reports.

Aarav nodded, his face calm, his mind... not.

His thoughts kept returning to that moment near the notice board.

> "If it grows...?"

"Then we'll figure it out... when it does."

She'd said it so simply.

Like love was a formula. And all they had to do was solve for X.

But Aarav knew it wasn't that easy.

It never was.

Especially not when you were a teacher. Especially not when she was still seventeen.

Seventeen and brilliant. Seventeen and brave. Seventeen and something he should never have noticed the way he did.

And yet...

Here they were.

Not lovers. Not strangers. Just two people who felt something forbidden and real... and didn't know what to do with it.

---

Anvi, meanwhile, sat by the window in the library, pretending to read.

But the words on the page blurred behind her thoughts.

Last night, after that conversation, she hadn't slept properly.

Not because she was nervous.

But because she finally felt... light.

She hadn't expected Aarav to say anything back. Not a promise, not a confession.

But the fact that he hadn't denied it - hadn't shut the door in her face - it meant something.

To her, it meant hope.

To him... she wasn't sure.

---

Their next class was physics theory.

Aarav entered just before the bell.

He greeted the class like usual, opened the board marker, and began the lecture on "Interference of Light."

But his voice... had a tremor.

Not enough for everyone to notice.

Just enough for her to feel it.

And she did.

Her eyes stayed on his face, her ears picked every pause, every breath.

For the first time, the roles had shifted.

She wasn't just the student watching him.

Now... she was someone who knew something about the man behind the professor.

And that knowledge was power.

Dangerous power.

---

Halfway through the class, while solving a derivation on the board, Aarav paused.

A knock on the door interrupted.

It was the Vice Principal.

"Mr. Sen, aapko principal office mein bulaya gaya hai. Abhi."

Aarav's eyebrows furrowed. "Kya baat hai?"

"Don't know. Kuch parents complain ka reference hai, I think."

His eyes darted across the classroom - unknowing, searching.

And for just a moment... they landed on Anvi.

A flicker of something passed between them.

She frowned. Complaints?

But before she could process it, he'd already left the room.

And with him, the entire atmosphere changed.

---

Anvi couldn't focus after that.

Her mind spun with possibilities.

Was it about her?

No.

It couldn't be.

No one knew anything.

Right?

Still, her stomach churned.

That strange tightness - like something had been stirred in the universe, and now it was unraveling.

After the class, she went straight to the staff corridor, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Nothing.

Teachers passed. Students gossiped. Time moved.

But he didn't return.

---

It wasn't until the last period that she finally saw him again - standing in the corridor, talking to the principal.

But he looked... off.

His jaw was clenched. His hands behind his back. His entire posture, guarded.

When the principal left, Anvi took the chance.

She walked up to him. Quiet. Careful.

"Sir," she said softly.

He looked at her.

His eyes weren't warm this time.

They were tired.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

He didn't answer right away.

Then: "There was a complaint."

Her heart dropped. "About what?"

"About me."

She blinked. "Why?"

His eyes met hers - serious, unreadable.

"Some parents noticed that I spend extra time mentoring a few students... and one of the names was yours."

Her mouth went dry.

"But that's not- Sir, that's not wrong."

"I know," he said quickly. "But optics matter, Anvi. And not the kind you put in your model."

She stepped closer. "You think someone saw us yesterday?"

He sighed. "No. I don't think so. But I've been advised to 'maintain distance'."

Her voice broke. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'll be replaced as the academic mentor for your research project. Effective immediately."

The world spun a little.

She couldn't breathe.

"You agreed to that?"

"I didn't have a choice."

Anvi looked away, blinking rapidly.

This was her fault.

She knew it.

She'd said too much. Stayed too long. Believed too quickly.

And now... he was being punished.

She turned to go.

But then stopped.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He didn't stop her this time.

And maybe that hurt the most.

---

Author's POV

Some moments don't explode.

They sink.

Like ink in water. Quiet, slow... irreversible.

This was one of them.

Aarav, who had spent weeks controlling himself, maintaining a wall of professionalism, now found himself being judged - not for what he did, but for what someone thought he might be doing.

And Anvi...?

She finally saw what power looks like - not in love, not in intelligence - but in perception.

Because sometimes, people don't need proof.

They just need a story.

And stories spread faster than facts.

But what neither of them knew was this:

This wasn't the end.

This was the beginning of the real test.

Because it's easy to feel something when no one is watching.

But can you still feel it when the world starts to look?

To Be Continued...