The Quiet Flame
But Geetha’s attention wasn’t on Veeresh.
Her eyes searched for the quieter figure by his side—Anish Sharma. The college topper, a genius in his own right, and Veeresh’s closest ally. Anish was as enigmatic as he was intimidating. His sharp, chiseled features and brooding demeanor earned him a reputation that made most students tread carefully around him. Yet, stories of his unexpected kindness had spread throughout the campus.
“Anish?” her classmate Divya had said when Geetha casually brought him up during lunch. “He’s… different. People call him the Karna to Veeresh’s Duryodhana, but he’s not like Veeresh at all. He’s quiet, calm, and kind. He helped me once when my laptop broke down during finals. Fixed it in under an hour.”
Geetha had been surprised. “But he looks so… stern.”
“That’s just his face,” Divya had laughed. “He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s worth listening to. Just don’t let his intimidating vibe scare you. Deep down, he’s a good person.”
Despite the assurances, Geetha found herself both intrigued and hesitant. She often saw him in the library, absorbed in books, or walking briskly across campus, always with an air of purpose. She wanted to talk to him, to unravel the layers of this mysterious figure, but every time she got close, her courage faltered. He seemed untouchable.
Now, standing at the sidelines of the parade, her heart raced as her eyes finally landed on him. Anish was there, just a few feet away, standing on the edge of the crowd. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable, his posture commanding respect. He was completely still amid the chaos, like the eye of a storm.
Geetha clutched her bag tightly, her palms slightly damp. Her mind raced, torn between the desire to approach him and the fear of embarrassing herself. Suddenly, as if sensing her gaze, Anish turned his head.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Geetha froze. His eyes—those same eyes that always seemed to burn with intensity—softened. The harsh lines of his expression melted, revealing something gentle and… human. The moment stretched, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.
But just as quickly, it was over. His face shifted back into its usual stoic mask, and he turned to talk to Veeresh, his voice low and firm. Geetha blinked, trying to process what had just happened. Her heart pounded wildly, her mind replaying that fleeting look over and over.
Had she imagined it? No, she was certain. In that brief exchange, she had seen a side of him that no one else seemed to notice.
As the parade moved on, she found herself rooted in place, her thoughts spinning. That single, fleeting moment had awakened something in her—a quest to uncover the real Anish Sharma.
The next day, she found herself lingering near the library once again. She pretended to read, sneaking glances whenever he passed by. When she saw him helping a junior adjust a complex circuit, his calm demeanor and patient tone only made her more determined.
Weeks passed, and Geetha’s fascination grew. She volunteered for the election campaign, taking on small tasks just to be around him. Though she rarely worked up the courage to speak to him directly, she noticed the small things: the way he always held the door open for others, his quiet humor when talking to friends, and the intensity with which he listened when someone spoke to him.
Her resolve strengthened. This wasn’t just a crush anymore—it was a mystery she was eager to solve. What was it about him that drew her in? Why did he guard himself so fiercely, and what lay beneath that carefully crafted exterior?
One day, as she worked on campaign posters in the art room, she heard his voice behind her. “You’ve been quite involved in the campaign lately.”
Startled, she turned to see him standing in the doorway, his usual stern expression softened by curiosity. Her pulse quickened.
“I… I thought it’d be a good way to meet people,” she said, fumbling with her paintbrush.
He nodded, his gaze lingering on her work. “Nice design,” he said before turning to leave.
Geetha stared after him, her face flushed but her determination renewed. The Karna everyone saw was just a fraction of who he truly was, and she was certain of one thing—she wanted to know all of him
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