Enemies to lovers - PART 7 — “What Wasn’t Said”

Suniti entered the classroom a few minutes before the bell.

She didn’t look back.

Her steps were steady, but her body hadn’t caught up with her composure yet.

She slid into her seat beside her friends, dropped her bag down, and exhaled softly.

That’s when one of them frowned.

“Why is your face so red?” she asked, tilting her head. “Are you okay?”

Suniti blinked. “What?”

“And your ears,” another added, squinting. “They’re literally red.”

Suniti instinctively touched them, irritation flickering across her face.

“They’re fine,” she muttered. “It’s hot.”

Her friend leaned closer, voice lowering conspiratorially.

“And… do you smell something different?”

Suniti stiffened.

“What nonsense,” she snapped, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder. “Stop imagining things.”

She turned away, pretending to focus on her notebook.

But even as she said it, she knew.

The scent hadn’t faded.

Clean.

Sharp.

Familiar.

It clung faintly to her sleeves, her scarf — subtle, persistent.

Unwanted.

The bell rang.

Sohum entered a minute later.

Professional. Composed. Untouched by whatever had happened outside.

He didn’t look at her.

And somehow, that made it worse.

The lecture began.

Normal. Controlled. No nonsense.

Yet Suniti found it harder than usual to focus, her pen pausing once, twice, before moving again.

Her friends exchanged a glance but said nothing.

Some things were better left unspoken.

---

The bell rang.

Chairs scraped softly as students stood and spilled into the corridor. Suniti closed her notebook, adjusted her bag, and followed her friends out.

They stopped near the staircase, voices blending into the background. Suniti leaned lightly against the railing, listening without really listening.

“Suniti.”

She turned.

Shivam stood a few steps away, smiling gently.

“You’re back,” he said. “I heard you were absent for a few days.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Everything alright?”

She nodded without a second’s pause.

“My brother’s marriage. Had to help with preparations.”

Simple.

Unhesitant.

“Oh,” Shivam smiled. “That must’ve been hectic.”

“It was,” she said, shifting her bag.

“You’ve missed a few classes,” he added thoughtfully. “Four, I think.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you have any doubts,” Shivam continued, “come to me. We’ll clear them. You shouldn’t struggle later.”

She nodded again, easy.

“Okay, sir.”

Sohum heard it all.

He had stepped into the corridor moments later, files under his arm, mind elsewhere—until her words reached him.

Brother’s marriage.

So she could explain.

Just not to him.

And now—

Come to me. We’ll clear them.

Something tight coiled slowly in his chest.

Shivam smiled. “Sessionals are close. Take care of yourself.”

“I will, sir.”

Suniti smiled back politely.

That was when Sohum spoke.

“Shivam.”

His voice cut through the corridor—calm, firm.

Both of them turned.

“Yes?” Shivam asked.

“We’re missing some internal assessment records,” Sohum said evenly. “Could you bring the files from the staff room? I need to cross-check something.”

Shivam frowned slightly. “Now?”

“Yes,” Sohum replied. “Please.”

There was no argument in his tone. Just expectation.

“Alright,” Shivam said, already turning away.

The moment he left, Suniti adjusted her bag.

“Excuse me,” she said softly—to no one in particular—and walked off.

Past Sohum.

Without looking at him.

Without acknowledging his presence.

Her friends exchanged glances behind her.

“She didn’t even look at him,” one murmured.

“And earlier…” another whispered. “That smell—”

“Shh,” the third cut in.

Suniti didn’t hear them.

Or pretended not to.

She walked faster, face still warm, heart unsettled, that unfamiliar scent lingering stubbornly around her.

Behind her, Sohum remained still.

She had answered Shivam freely.

Agreed to go to him without hesitation.

Walked away from Sohum effortlessly.

The contrast burned.

Possessiveness didn’t rise loudly.

It settled quietly—deep, controlled, undeniable.

And for the first time, the thought in his mind had nothing to do with discipline or boundaries.

He didn’t like the idea of her going to someone else for answers.

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