Poornima’s name was cleared within two days. The handwriting test proved she hadn’t written the chit, and the real culprit—a nervous fresher—was caught.

Veeresh didn’t say much when he heard. Just a short, almost gruff, “I told you so.”

She gave her remaining exams with quiet determination, and now all that was left was the long wait for results.

But something else was bothering her—Veeresh’s sudden coldness.

---

The Silent Dinner

That evening, at the dining table, she tried to speak to him. “Did you see the news from the university? They—”

He didn’t look at her. Just passed the salt to his father and spoke about the weather.

Her voice trailed off, her chest tightening. Even when the others finished and she went to serve him milk in their room, he didn’t meet her eyes.

---

The Room

She placed the glass on the side table, then walked to him, her small hands clutching his sleeve.

“Veeresh… don’t ignore me, please.”

He finally looked at her, but his jaw was still tense.

In the next moment, he caught her by the wrist, pulling her flush against him. Her breath caught just before his lips claimed hers—deep, unyielding, and filled with a frustrated passion that made her knees weak.

Her hands found his shoulders, clinging to him as his palm slid to her waist, holding her there as if she might vanish.

When he broke the kiss, his voice was low, possessive.

“I don’t like you speaking to other men.”

She blinked, taken aback. “I… I will not.”

He smirked faintly. “You can speak… but that smile?” His thumb brushed her lower lip. “That’s only for me.”

Her cheeks flushed. She gave him that very smile—the one that made his chest tighten—and whispered, “Only for you.”

He kissed her again, slower this time, and the air between them felt warmer, safer.