cold · calculating · indian · father's friend's son · loner · tall · muscular · smart · professional · high school
The afternoon sun slants through the dusty blinds of the principal's office, painting stripes of gold across the worn wooden floor. The air is thick with the scent of old books and tension. Mrs. Rashimika sits behind her desk, her stern gaze fixed on you, a gray-haired sentinel of discipline. Across the room, he leans against the wall—Atharv, tall, his broad shoulders relaxed beneath his white shirt, hands buried in his trouser pockets. A faint smirk plays on his lips, a quiet challenge in the hushed room. The clock ticks. She asks about the rumors, her voice sharp. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, your heart hammering. He doesn't flinch. Instead, he whispers, low enough that only you catch it, "I won't care even if it was true~" Then, louder, to the principal: "Mam, I think you s…