❥Jasmin❥

Kiara’s room was a mess, but it was the perfect space for our impromptu dance sessions. Clothes were scattered everywhere, fairy lights twinkled above, and music blasted from her phone. 'Sheila Ki Jawani' came on, and I couldn’t help but laugh as Kiara grabbed my hand, pulling me in front of the mirror.

"Come on, Jasmin! Let’s nail this choreography!" Kiara’s infectious energy made it impossible to say no.

"I know you want it, but you’re never gonna get it. Tere haath kabhi na aani..." I sang along, my body moving to the rhythm, every step deliberate, matching the song's sultry beat. My hips swayed, my arms moved gracefully above my head, and I let my hair loose, flipping it with every turn, feeling it brush against my bare shoulders. For once, I felt completely in control, embracing my inner seductress, owning the moment. "Maane na maane koi duniya yeh saari, mere ishq ki hai deewani."

"Ab dil karta hai haule haule se, main toh khud ko gale lagaun..." Kiara sang along to the next part of the song, her voice light and carefree. Her arms wrapped around herself in a mock embrace, her eyes closed, lost in the moment, and a playful smile tugged at her lips. "Kisi aur ki mujhko zaroorat kya, main toh khud se pyaar jataun."

Kiara and I exchanged a look and grinned. With a burst of energy, we both threw our hands in the air and sang at the top of our lungs, “What's my name, what's my name, what's my name?”

We moved in perfect sync, dancing together, our feet tapping to the beat. "My name is Sheila!" we sang, laughing as we twirled around the room. "Sheila ki jawani, I'm just sexy for you, main tere haath na aani!"

Kiara continued, her voice playful as she sang the next line, moving with renewed energy. “Haan jab unki taraf dekhun, baatein haule haule karte hain...”

She twirled around, her hair flowing behind her as she finished the next line, “Hai magar, beassar mujh par har paintra.” Her expression was playful, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she struck a dramatic pose.

“Haye re, aise tarse humko, ho gaye soo arse re...” I sang, I spun around, my arms stretched wide as if embracing the playful tease in the song. “Sookhey dil pe megha ban ke teri nazariya barse re,” I sang, twirling toward the mirror, my hair flying behind me.

“I know you want it, but you’re never gonna get it. Tere haath kabhi na aani…”” Kiara and I danced in perfect sync, the energy between us electric. We twirled and swayed, our movements fluid and playful, embodying the spirit of the lyrics.

“Sheila, Sheila ki jawani,” we both shouted, our voices ringing out as we twirled around the room, arms flailing in dramatic gestures. “I’m just sexy for you! Main tere haath na aani…”

“Paisa gaadi mehnga ghar,” Kiara and I yelled, our voices rising with excitement as we danced around the room. “I need a man who give me all that!”

“Jaibein khaali fattichar!” I continued, exaggerating the gestures as I danced, my hips swaying and my hands moving provocatively. Kiara mirrored me, her laughter ringing out as she embraced the playful teasing of the lyrics. “No, no, I don’t like him like that!” we sang together, flinging our arms wide, sharing a knowing glance that spoke volumes.

As we moved, we lost ourselves in the rhythm, laughing and dancing as if we were the only two people in the world. It was liberating to be so silly, to forget about everything else, even if just for a moment. I spun around again, my hair flying as I threw my head back, feeling the freedom of being young and carefree.

But then, as the chorus faded, the weight of reality slowly crept back in. My phone buzzed, a harsh reminder that our escape wouldn’t last forever. I hesitated, feeling the thrill of the dance collide with the dread of what awaited me on the screen.

But when I opened my phone, a wave of nervousness washed over me as I stared at the familiar unknown number—the number that had haunted my nights and disrupted my days. My stalker’s number. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I noticed he had sent me a voice message.

With trembling hands, I hesitated, my breath quickening. I knew I should have ignored it, but a part of me felt compelled to listen. I pressed play, and his deep, husky voice filled the silence of the room, sending chills down my spine.

“Chal yahan se nikal, tujhe sab laa dunga,” he sang, the tone both enticing and menacing. “Kadmon mein tere laake jag rakh dunga,” he continued, his voice smooth like silk, yet laced with something darker.

I felt a shiver run through me as he went on, his promises ringing in my ears. “Khwaab main kar dunga poore, na rahenge adhoore.” Each word wrapped around me like a serpent, tightening its grip as dread replaced the fleeting joy I had just experienced dancing with Kiara.

“You know I’m going to love you like that,” he concluded, the finality of his statement hanging in the air like a suffocating cloud.

I dropped the phone onto the bed, my heart racing. The room felt suddenly too small, the walls closing in as the reality of his words sank in. He was watching, waiting, and there was nothing I could do to escape it. I felt a wave of nausea rise within me, the thrill of dancing and laughter shattered by the weight of his obsession.

“Jas, what’s wrong?” Kiara’s voice broke through my haze, her eyes wide with concern as she noticed my expression. I could see the realization dawning on her face as she pieced it together.

“It’s him,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “He sent a voice message.”

Kiara rushed to my side, her expression shifting from worry to determination. “Let me hear it,” she said firmly, and I nodded, unable to find my voice again. She picked up the phone, her brow furrowing as she pressed play.

As his voice filled the room again, a twisted mix of anger and fear churned inside me. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, trying to ground myself against the creeping panic.

But then, Kiara broke the silence with a dry laugh. “There’s seriously something wrong with me,” she said, shaking her head. “Because I’m finding this… romantic.”

I turned to her, my eyes wide in disbelief. “Kiara, are you serious?” My voice wavered between shock and confusion.

She met my gaze, shrugging slightly as if trying to downplay the tension. “I mean, it’s twisted, sure. But the whole ‘I’ll give you the world, complete your dreams’ thing—it sounds like something out of one of those dark romances.” She smirked, trying to inject some levity into the situation, but I could see the worry lurking beneath her playful facade.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Except this isn’t some fantasy. This is real life, and he’s a stalker, not some mysterious hero.”

Kiara’s expression softened, and she reached for my hand. “I know, Jas. I’m just trying to make you laugh, or at least not let this freak get to you more than he already has.” She squeezed my hand gently, her playful tone replaced by sincerity.

"But apart from that," Kiara's voice dropped, her curiosity evident. "Is he handsome?"

I shot her a look that could kill, but she simply shrugged. "What? Curiosity is killing me! What if he's some old creepy guy?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know. He's always wearing a mask. But—" My phone buzzed, cutting me off mid-sentence. I pulled it out, with Kiara leaning closer, her eyes glued to the screen.

I unlocked the phone, my heart skipping a beat as I read the message aloud, 'I am not some old creepy guy. I am far more handsome and hot than those actors in the movies.'

Kiara let out a high-pitched squeal, her excitement getting the better of her. "Oh my God! Jasmin! Who is this guy?!" Her hands flew up in exaggerated disbelief. "He’s confident, I’ll give him that. Hotter than actors? I mean, who says that?"

I stood frozen for a second, the words on the screen echoing in my mind. "I— I don’t know," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. The mystery around him just kept growing, and now I was more confused than ever.

Before I could even process Kiara’s excited squeal, my phone buzzed again. Another message. With a sense of dread creeping up my spine, I glanced down at the screen.

‘There’s only one way to get rid of me. Three days. You have three days to find out who I am. Free yourself from my obsession… and claim.’

My heart pounded as I read the words, each one sinking deeper into me like a weight.

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I zoned out as the professor droned on about the upcoming project. Honestly, I had other things on my mind—the strange texts, that countdown ticking in my head. Group projects were the last thing I wanted to deal with right now.

“Jasmin,” the professor’s Elyan voice cut through my thoughts, and I blinked back to attention. “You’ll be paired with Kaysan Khalid.”

My heart sank as I looked over at Kaysan. Front row, nose buried in his notes, glasses perched perfectly on his sharp nose. He looked exactly how you’d imagine a guy who never missed a homework assignment—calm, focused, and seriously nerdy. He had this whole 'I don’t have time for anything but studying' vibe.

Great. Just great.

I slumped back in my chair as the professor scribbled our names on the whiteboard. Out of all the people in the class, I get paired with him? Kaysan wasn’t exactly the most social guy. He was like a walking library, always surrounded by books, his head never leaving the pages.

I glanced sideways at my best friend, Kiara, who was sitting next to me with her chin propped up on her hand, a dreamy expression on her face. Her gaze was locked onto our tax professor, and she looked so smitten it was almost comical. A hint of drool was even forming at the corner of her mouth, which I had to admit made the scene all the more amusing.

Unable to resist, I leaned over and snapped my fingers right in front of her face, pulling her out of whatever daydream she’d fallen into. She blinked rapidly, looking around as if she’d just been jolted back to reality, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“What?” she mumbled, wiping the corner of her mouth and glancing at me with a mix of confusion and annoyance.

“What will Karthik think about this, huh? You, ogling our professor like that?” I teased, raising an eyebrow and giving her a knowing look.

She huffed, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated way. “Oh, please. Karthik has no right to judge my little… distractions.”

“Distractions?” I chuckled. “More like a full-on swooning session. Kiara, I’ve never seen you this captivated—well, except with Karthik, of course.”

She shrugged, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Can you blame me? I mean, have you seen the way he explains tax brackets? And those glasses…” She trailed off with a sigh, clearly still in her fantasy land.

“Kiara, get a grip!” I whispered, stifling a laugh. “This is tax class, not one of those cheesy romance movies you binge on.”

Just then, Professor stepped closer to our side of the room to write something on the board, and Kiara immediately straightened up, trying to look attentive.

“See?” she whispered, nudging me. “Even the way he holds the chalk—it’s like… poetic!”

“Poetic? You have really lost it,” I muttered, shaking my head. But the mischief in my eyes matched her own as I added, “I’m telling Karthik about this later.”

Kiara’s eyes widened in mock horror. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh, I would,” I said, smirking.

My eyes wandered back to Kaysan, and, as if sensing my gaze, he glanced up. His eyes met mine briefly through his glasses. He didn’t smile, just gave a quick nod like we were already supposed to be on the same wavelength.

Efficient, I guess.

“It’s going to be awkward, isn’t it?” she murmured, following my line of sight to where Kaysan was sitting.

I furrowed my brows, keeping my voice low. “What do you mean?”

Kiara raised an eyebrow, giving me that teasing look I knew all too well. “After you rejected his proposal last year, Jasmin. I’m a hundred percent sure he still has feelings for you.”

I swallowed, her words stirring up the awkward memory. Kaysan had confessed his feelings just before summer break last year. I’d been taken completely off-guard and, after a long and complicated conversation, had gently turned him down. We’d tried to act like nothing happened, and he’d handled it gracefully, but the atmosphere between us hadn’t been the same since.

“Maybe he’s moved on,” I whispered, not sure if I believed it.

Kiara snorted softly. “Please. Have you seen the way he still looks at you? He might be all quiet about it, but I can tell.”

I risked another glance at Kaysan. He was focused on his laptop, typing away with his usual intensity, seemingly unaware of the turmoil his presence stirred up for me. But then, as if on cue, his eyes flicked up, catching mine briefly before he turned back to his screen.

Kiara nudged me, leaning closer. “Honestly, Jasmin, maybe you should just talk to him. Clear the air once and for all. You owe him that much.”

I sighed, tapping my pen against my notebook. “You think it’ll actually help?”

“Only one way to find out,” she said, smiling encouragingly. “Besides, if you don’t, you’ll keep overthinking every look he gives you, and that’s no way to get through a semester.”

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of her words sink in. She was right. Maybe if I just spoke to Kaysan, acknowledged what had happened instead of pretending we’d both forgotten it, we could finally ease this tension and focus on what we needed to accomplish together.

The bell rang, and as I gathered my things, I saw Kaysan calmly packing up his books. I braced myself. I had to talk to him now, didn’t I? No escape. As I walked toward him, I could feel my nerves building up. What was I even supposed to say?

"Hey, uh… looks like we’re partners," I muttered, trying to sound casual.

He looked up again, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, seems like it.” His voice was surprisingly steady, not as stiff as I imagined.

This was going to be... interesting.