#chhichhore

Let me introduce you to....

Derek D'Souza aka saare losers ka najaayaz baap

Og bad boy with those sad puppy dog eyes and a ciggerate addiction.

(Part IV)

This is for my babygirl @cvclee. She is such a freaking talented editor; her edits on Derek have left me a little dizzy and with a blazing crush on the man, Derek D'Souza. Please check out her edits. I hope I have done him justice.

This is the 4th part of the mini-series. This is based on the character of Derek D'Souza, played by Tahir Raj Bhasin, in the movie Chhichhore (2019).

Constructive criticism appreciated. This is not beta read, so if you guys find some typos/ errors, please feel free to correct me.

Warnings: crush at first sight, fluff, angst, slow burn, Grumpy x sunshine, mutual pining, idiots in love, college romance, kiss, smoking

Happy reading....

(Part I), (Part II), (Part III)

PART IV

“Tum ek haath se ye cigarette kaise jalate ho?” She asked Derek, suddenly looking at him as he had placed a cigarette on his lips. She had her back resting on his chest. They were sitting on an abandoned plank-like bridge over a canal. This had become their secret place over the last month. Here, they had made a comfortable place for themselves, where they would talk to each other for hours with no judgment.

“It's simple, see. Aise matchstick ko apne right hand se 45-degree ke angle pe matchbox pe strike karo, and then tada” Derek showed her as he lit the cigarette.

She did not know what overcame her; she looked at the cigarette still in his hand, his index and middle finger holding it, in awe. She moved her face closer to his palm and suddenly took a puff from the cigarette in his hands. Suddenly, a bitter burning sensation filled her throat. She started coughing violently. Derek threw the cigarette aside.

“Aree tum to smoke nahi karti ye kya kiya”, Derek asked, patting her back softly. She was still coughing.

“Mujhe curiosity hui.” She finally answered, her eyes slightly teary and her throat feeling a little sore, but her cheeks were dusted with a reddish blush. They were really close; her nose was near his chin, her lips near his Adam's apple.

Derek was too concerned about her to notice the proximity; he frantically searched for the bottle of water in her bag. “God, have some water. I did not want your throat to be sore like this. I mean…”

“You look hot, Derek.”

This made him pause. He looked at her; she was looking at him with those doe eyes, soft, yet filled with so much love and passion. He noticed how close she was; his throat suddenly felt dry. What did she mean? Her cheeks were red, she was breathing heavily, it was not now she usually teased him, it felt deeper, intense, it lacked her usual humour or the teasing smile. Derek moved his palm to touch her red cheeks; they were warm. “What?”

She continued looking at him with those eyes, as she moved her palm to his pocket and felt the pack of cigarettes and brought it out. Her lips brushed against his chin, and he took a deep inhale. She brought a cigarette out and placed it on his trembling lips. His breathing quickened. She moved slowly, a little away and took the matchbox lying on the ground. She lit the match and moved it to the cigarette on his lips. As the cigarette got lit, she blew on the burning match, the soft, warm air from her lips softly caressed his cheeks, and he took a deep puff.

She continued looking at him, her eyes now hazy. “You look really hot while smoking. Taking a puff. Your eyes roll behind your head and…”

Derek’s self-control was on its last thread; he let out a, “God woman”, and got hold of the back of her neck, took another puff of his cigarette she had lit and kissed her. The bitter smoke of the intoxicant, softened by the intensity of the kiss, escaped from the tangled lips of the lovers. Derek’s hand held her head close; his grip on her long, braided hair tightened. Her hands moved from her forearms to his back and moved to his neck.

They had no clue how much time had passed, but they moved when the cigarette butt burnt his right hand, and he let out a gasp. She suddenly moved back, eyes widened with realisation. She had kissed Derek, her boyfriend, the guy she had a crush on from the first day of college. She took deep breaths, looking at the water flowing in the canal. Both of them were dazed, unsure what had taken over them. Their cheeks were dusted with the afterglow of the kiss. She was unable to look him in the eye. The sun was setting, and the sky had turned orange. Derek places his palm on hers and holds it tight in a comforting way. She was shy now, unsure if what they had done was fine, if it changed Derek’s opinion of her, or if he would think she was desperate. Thoughts clouded her mind. Derek could almost hear them. He rubbed his thumb on her palm in a soft, comforting manner.

“Tumhare pati to bhi aisei kiss kiya hain kya? Woh to oxygen generate karna bandh kardiya hoga.”

She laughed softly. Derek had made a joke, but he sounded too serious. He tried to lighten the mood. She was still looking down at the water. He placed his hand on her chin and made her look at his face. “Hey, what happened, baby?”

“Kuch nahi”

“Tumhara kuch nahi, matlab kuch hain. I love you, and you love me, right?”

“Hmm”

“’Hmm’ kya? Use your words, darling.”

“I love you”

He held her face in her hands. She was so adorable. She was bold one moment, and another, she got shy. She had heard that how women making the first move was often not seen in a good light, but here they had been dating for just a month and had kissed. Was it too soon? She was scared of Derek’s opinion about her changing, and Derek understood it better than anyone else. He loved her, he loved her boldness, her humour, her sharp tongue, her brain, her cute nose, her eyes, the sway of her hips, her dance, her laugh. He absolutely loved every bit of her being. He could absolutely not let her get self-conscious with him.

“Hain, I love you too. And I loved what we did, okay. Do not go on a spiral, thinking negatively about it. We did nothing wrong, okay. Yeah, it would have been better if I had asked for your consent verbally, but you leaned in, so I went with it. Tum ise overthink nahi karogi okay? We kissed because we love each other; it’s a physical expression of our love.”

This moved her to tears. They had been dating for a month, just a month, but he probably understood her better than anyone ever had. He listened to her, he looked at her, he understood her. Not just the smile she showed, but the depth she carried. Her outspoken nature did not trouble him; it made him fall for her even more. He never dismissed her fears and insecurities but tried to understand her and be there for her. Her overthinking, often dismissed even by her, was taken into account by Derek; he heard it and understood it. He would never let her doubt herself. He was not perfect by any means, but he valued her over all other things.

“Aree, baby, why are you crying? Okay, we will not do it ever again if it makes you uncomfortable”

“Buddhu ho tum. Itne pyaare kyu ho?” She hugged him tight, her heart overflowing with love for him.

“Tumhe hi lagta hain main pyara hu.” He soothed the hair on her head, which had gotten messed up.

“Bakiyon se mu phula ke baatein karoge to aisa hi hoga na. Ache se bhi baat kar sakte ho.”

“Ache se hi baat karta hu, per tumse jaise pyaar se baat karta hu unse nahi karta na”

“Thank god, agar Sexa ko tumse pyaar hojata to kya hota mera.” She was back again with her teasing. Derek felt lighter, softer.

He held her arms and moved her to look at her. “Sexa? Seriously?”

“Maybe, Ani too. Tumne kabhi notice nah kiya how they look at you when you stand and smoke shirtless on your balcony?” She smiled as if revealing a secret.

“Tumne bara notice kiya hain? Waise kaisa lagta hu”

“Thore se kharoos and serious, but very hot”

“Hain? Phir isi baat ke ek aur…”

“Badam doodh?” She interrupted.

“Nahi yaar. Per okay, badam doodh hi sahi. Kal library mein mile?”

“Tumhe GC ke liya sab finalise karliya na, it's like in a week?”

“Almost done, baby.”

“Is baar to mera boyfriend hi jeetega.”

“Apne pati ko bataya hain mere bare mein?”

“Derek, stop. Ye joke bohot zaada hoagaya hain.”

“Kya karu har kisi ka sauten ped thori hota hain.” Derek smirked at her. Oh, how he loved seeing her like this, a little angry.

“Very funny”

“I know.” He placed a kiss on her cheeks as he stood up and held his palm out for her, helping her stand.

(Part V)

(PS: Guys ye kiss likhne likhte paseene choot gaye mere.. pata nahi kya hi likha hain.. bhul chuk maaf kardena.. I hope mere kisi bhi gharwalo ko ye na mile.. mera mard ka chakkar maut se takkar wala aura negative mein chala jayega)

Tagging my baddies: @lutt-le-gaya @nevereversaygoodbye @hamzakamehroomkurta @sanamkhanani @mainyahaankyunhoon @aoyamaj3711 @angelicyuna @torumii @sarcastic-ravenpuff @cvclee @miraclejin1204 @diyak11 @sunf1over @hereforfanfictionsfr @tobitoooo @cherryyelixir @saniisinsane @mrgrungusthefrog @sinnoire @opheliasreblog @mujhekoimarsbhejdo @goldenharrysworld @gulaabjamun08 @idonthavechatpateusernamed @indigo-pdf @rutvii @rhopalocera23 @goldenharrysworld @y0uneversawmehere

(In case any of you guys wanna be added or removed, please tell me in the comments)

(Derek x Oc, Chhichore)

Arunika wants to throw herself down a very tall building.

When the boys win the match, Maya drags her over to them to see them all celebrate and Arunika does that, punching Acid on the shoulder, giving Sexa a smirk, half hugging Mummy, fully enveloping Aniruddh in a hug. When she's face to face with Derek, she freezes for a second and so does he. The air between them is awkward, only for a second, but it's stretches.

A smile breaks out on his face and he grins, almost dopey, leaning down to whisper in her ear,"Do I get a celebratory smoke?"

Arunika fights the blush on her face and swats his stomach, feeling the defined muscle under her hand. The same that she has seen, not even three hours ago.

Get a grip, she mentally scolds herself. It's undermined because her hand almost freezes on his t-shirt and she backpaddles in her head again, Not like that!

Derek chuckles and Arunika glares at him in a huff, turning back to everyone else. "I'm going back to classes, guys," she tells them,"Baad mein mile?"

Sexa groans,"Ye tum ladkiya aur tumhare classes ke chochle. Dekh lena, second year se tum log bhi nahi attend karne wale kuch."

Maya crosses her arms across her chest. "Toh ab class na attend kare toh kya kare? Tapri pe baithne jaye tumhari tarah?"

"Dinner pe." Aniruddh says, looking at Arunika,"Dinner pe toh chal sakte ho na Aaj, classes ke baad? Mess mein mat khana."

Arunika raises an eyebrow and turns to Maya. "Chal sakte hai?" Because she knows her brother wanted an answer from his girlfriend, not his twin. And after Maya nods, she turns to Aniruddh,"Saru. Kaha Jana hai?"

(Thik hai.)

"Don't worry about it." Derek says. "Just be ready and stand at your hostel gate at 7:30. I'll pick you up."

Maya clears her throat and cheekily points between herself and Arunika. "Is the offer for both of us? I mean, I wouldn't third wheel if you want some alone—"

"Maya!" Arunika hisses at her while she gives her an innocent look. Sexa and Acid share a look before bursting out laughing, loud and obnoxious, and even Mummy chuckles. Aniruddh gives Arunika and Derek a grumpy look and for fucks sake he really needs to end this overprotective brother routine! She's the elder one here! And she did not such drama at him when he started dating Maya.

"The offer is for both of you." Derek replies, completely nonchalant. "If I want privacy, I'll ask. Scurry off to your class now, freeloader."

"Meanie." Maya mutters under her breath but grabs Arunika's hand and begins walking anyway. Arunika gives Derek their salute and waves absently at the rest of them before turning back to Maya, who's speed walking them now because Ranjan sir will ruin their day if they're more than five minutes late into the class.

"Behen, meri jaan le leni hai tujhe?!" She asks Maya frantically. "Sabke saamne kyu hoshiyari maar rahi hai?"

Maya grins at her. "Well, I can't speak to my boyfriend. Figured that you'd like to speak to yours, of course."

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Keep telling yourself that." Maya snorts at her and absolutely ignores the glare Arunika is throwing at her. "Now, what are you wearing tonight? Do you want to borrow one of my dresses?"

____________________________________________________

Derek glares at the boys when the girls leave, the idiots are already arguing about restaurants.

"Chup karo." He says sternly, stepping between them because while Sexa and Acid want some good chicken tonight, Anni and Mummy are vegetarians, and they're currently fighting like cats. "Sirf ye dono hote toh hum jaate Janta mein biryani khane, but Maya aur Aru bhi hai. Aur Aru bhi vegetarian hai. Toh, aaj Sarvoday ja rahe hai hum. Agar chess jeet gaye toh chalenge biryani khane."

"Abe ghanta chess jeetenge," Sexa grumbles,"Bevda toh hai nahi. What are we going to do about it?"

Mummy shakes his head. "Humare year mein ek ladka hai jo apni school ka chess champion tha. Aru boli thi vo aage usko thoda aur sikha degi."

"Aru was the state boxing champion and the district chess champion." Anni says, increadibly proud of his sister. His face always gets brighter when he talks about her, about their childhood. It's clear that he sees her as a person to protect as well as someone who has constantly protected him without a second thought.Arunika does the same. Every moment she can take to gloat about Anni is one she'll hop on, immediately launching into either a list of his achievements or some impressive story from their childhood. It's endearing.

It's also hurting him because every time they preen about each other, Derek misses Jenny and Neil. They write to him often, and call him every week. They just called yesterday, telling him that mom was being ridiculous about Jenny and her appearance, how dad was impressed that Derek quit smoking.

(Impressed. Not proud.) (Derek had spent half an hour arguing with his mother to stop forcing her standards on his sister, or else.)

When they all get going, Anni walks with Derek. "Date pe le ja rahe ho meri behen ko?" He asks, trying to sound casual and failing spectacularly.

(Date at fucking dingy hole-in-the-wall restaurant? Are we kidding? After knowing how her cool fingers feel alongside his, after knowing that her pupils dilate when she looks at his body, after knowing the goddamn taste of her lipbalm—chocolate, of course— he wouldn't take her to that place for a date. He'd use the money he's earned and take her to a date at a different place everyday until she told him which one is her favourite. He'd buy her the pink roses that she loves so much and make her freshly brewed coffee everyday instead of the instant coffee bullshit that they drink at the canteen. Date, he says, as if he doesn't know his sister deserves the sun, moon, stars and even more than that.)

Derek gives him a bored look. "Agar date hoti toh hum akele jaate. Tum ghochuo ko saath leke nahi jaate."

"Good," Anni says, narrowing his eyes at Derek even as he pulls out his normal tshirt from his locker, beginning to change back from their sports uniforms. "You're not going to take her out alone anytime soon."

The audacity makes him want to laugh. Anni, who was nothing more than a fumbling freshie with too much hope in his naive eyes, is setting a boundary. Regarding his firecracker of a sister who almost tore a guy's tshirt for talking to Anni the wrong way. But Derek knows that little brothers are always more audaciously protective than their elder siblings (case in point: Neil threatening their mother with police when she tried to force Derek to give her the money he earned from stock market).

He shakes his head,"Bold of you to assume she'll want your permission. Support, yes, but agar permission Dene laga tu toh Tera muh aur uska haath hoga. Aur fir main bachane nahi aaunga."

Anni huffs, muttering something about how he can protect himself against his sister, she's weak to his puppy eyes. Derek makes a mental note of that particular fact, in case he needs her agreement on something.

When they're all finally back in their normal clothes, Derek's hand immediately goes to his pocket to bring out Arunika's pen, flipping it between his fingers to give himself something to do while they all calculate the gold medals they'll need to win GC.

It's difficult, Derek realises with a weight in his chest. Very, very difficult. Not winning GC, no. While GC is a beast of its own league, the hope in his boys' eyes when they talk about winning is very difficult to keep there. He knows, it will only take one defeat for them to come crashing down from their high but dear fuck does he wish that he could keep them afloat.

Derek swallows the pessimistic thoughts and presses the back of the pen on his lips, the cool metal feeling like a soothing balm on his heated skin. He speaks then, asks to talk to the guy that they're supposed to replace Bevda with, and just like that, the conversation sidetracks. He gets all the information within a single minute.

Dev Jadeja, another Gujarati freshie with a strong background in chess and an overconfident swagger, but with enough survival instinct that he's never been under H-3 or Raggie's scrutiny, a perfect secret weapon.

"Bula lete hai usko aaj dinner pe." Sexa says innocently,"Baat bhi ho jayegi, khana bhi kha lenge. No time waste. Uski training dinner ke baad se hi shuru karva denge."

Derek hates the idea of a stranger on his table. He's always been a loner, ever since he was a child. His first priority being his younger siblings made his peers distance themselves from him and in college, all the self respect and fierce glares earned him a reputation that allowed him to break and bend the rules as he wished. The only best friend he really has currently is Bevda, who's seen Derek change from an excited and cocky freshie to an experienced and confident senior. Bevda picked up a bottle of alcohol and Derek picked up a lighter in the same week— just after they'd lost the qualifying games quite humiliatingly in their first year.

(Raggie had been a friend once, a dear one. Before he'd become Raggie, and when he was Raghav— the three of them were almost inseparable. They'd been the college stars and Derek had full plans of shifting to H-3 with Raggie's encouragement. Only, Bevda being hit by one of their senior's fist had made the choice for Derek and he'd chosen to stay with Bevda to protect him, and Raggie had felt abandoned and had stopped speaking to both of them, unless he wanted to taunt them with a cold smile. It had hurt, damn it. And Derek had sworn to stay away from any other drama inducing friendships. But here he was.)

The boys have already agreed, though, to call this idiot at dinner. He can't deny the idea, with all its practicality, and has to huff out and agreement, lest he be made to tell why exactly he hates strangers. And he hates talking about his feelings more than he hates strangers.

They disperse and Derek immediately heads to the common gym, trying to get all the physical work done before he has to shower and change into a pair of good clothes.

After his shower, he wears a grey tshirt because he knows Arunika will wear that slate grey dress of hers with the pockets that she loves so much. And Sue him, he wants to see the surprise on her face when she realises they match

(She hasn't worn it in almost three weeks. She claims she loves the dress but dressing up for depressing classes is not something she has the energy to do, so he's hoping to high hell that dinner with them is something that she's willing to put effort in, to wear that dress. It looks beautiful on her, it makes her honeyed skin glow and the collar of the dress is like a normal t-shirt's and she loves to fiddle with it. Not to mention, there's a decorative pocket at the right of her chest, with a wooden looking heart shaped button that distracts him to hell and back.)

Derek puts on that denim jacket that he once lent to Acid ages ago, knowing that it's been passed around by the boys because it looks stylish with anything. And he also knows that if she wears the dress, it's sleeveless situation will give her goosebumps in the AC restaurant and he just wants to be prepared, okay? She runs cold, always. He doesn't want her to get sick from a dinner.

Her pen is tucked in the front pocket of his denim jacket, right over his heart. The first three letters of her name peek out and Derek feels something strange flutter in his chest as he looks at himself in the mirror.

God help him, he's absolutely gone over this woman.

When he reaches H-10, the girls are already standing at the gate. He was absolutely right.

Arunika is wearing the grey dress, with heart shaped grey earrings that sit perfectly on her earlobes and her glasses are pushed up on her nose perfectly, her grey matte hairband doing nothing to tame her curls. She looks absolutely breathtaking. Maya, for a change, is dressed in a pair of flattering jeans and a dark brown crop top that looks like it was devised as a thought out plan to torture Anni. Derek shrugs mentally. He can do nothing but watch and amuse himself at Anni's expense.

"Hop on." He tells them and Arunika is the one to act on his words immediately. He's noticed that. Whenever he says something authoritatively, Arunika always responds first and asks questions later.

Almost as if his word alone is enough for her to do whatever it is that needs to be done. It's a flattering and humbling thought.

Arunika hops on the bike behind him, sitting astride, which is the normal way to sit. Usually. But when she's wearing a dress that reaches her shins and it rides up to her knees when she sits behind him on the bike, the soft presence of her pressed against his back? It's torture.

Suddenly, Derek sympathises with future Anni and is even jealous of him. At least, Maya wouldn't be pressed against Anni. No, Arunika is pressed deliciously against his back and she shifts forward, boxing her thighs around his hips as she shifts to make space for Maya to climb on the bike as well.

"You both settled on?" He asks and only then does he realise that his voice has gone down an octave, all because of Arunika Pathak.

Both of them murmur their confirmation and he starts the bike, adjusting himself to the weight of it for a second before actually starting to drive. "Hold on tight." He tells the girls as he shifts a gear upwards, letting the bike gain average speed. He's not about to overspeed with them here, but the potholes in this damn city are catalysts to too many accidents.

"Where am I supposed to hold?" Arunika whisper shouts at him, which makes sense as well. Maya has the back of the bike to hold, but Arunika has no such leverage. Derek slows the bike down a bit to maintain better control and reaches behind himself, pulling her hand from her thigh to his waist and leaving it immediately, letting her decide just where she wants her hands.

He doesn't expect the arm to curl entirely over his torso. He doesn't expect her other hand to slide into the pocket of his denim jacket. Derek curses himself mentally.

Great going, you fucking idiot, he thinks. Drive your bike with two important people on it while thinking about her soft hands and how they'd feel on your bare skin instead of this flimsy cotton tshirt. Derek swallows. No. He can't give in to these thoughts, not now.

Derek takes a deep breath, the scent of soil and fucking pollution clearing his head immediately.

Thankfully, the restaurant isn't too far away and not too soon, he's parking the bike while the girls hop off. Only, when Arunika starts to get off, he hears a weird sound, something he can't describe too well and he looks at her in question.

She doesn't notice him looking, because she's too busy adjusting her dress and muttering under her breath about leather seats sticking to skin. "I should have worn a leggings with this." He hears her mutter as he cuts the engine off, manually adjusting the bike into a proper parking space.

He hears Maya scoff. "And ruin your look? Absolutely not."

They both pretend like they weren't speaking when he gets off of the bike and he pretends he didn't hear that under this dress, with a fucking zip that goes from her collar bones to her belly, Arunika is only wearing—

Fuck no, Derek, we do not go into that direction. No, no. Come back. Do not think that near her brother's vicinity.

"Chalein?" He asks, mindlessly reaching out to entangle his hand with hers. Arunika freezes for a second while Maya nods, ignorant of her friend's dilemma. Derek freezes with her. Shit. He shouldn't have touched her. In college its a different thing, it's different when it's just the two of them, alone. But in front of Maya and the boys? Arunika might not be as comfortable with skinship as he'd assumed.

Before he can spiral down that thought process, she squeezes his hand and looks at him through her lashes. "Chaliye."

Derek follows the single worded answer like it's the command of God and doesn't even look where he's going, watching in fascination as he realises she's wearing silver bracelets and they match exactly with his casio watch. He shifts their hands and his watch collides gently with her bracelet. It makes a soft sound that's almost unnoticeable but paired with her sharp intake of air and her chiming anklets, it's practically intoxicating.

"Aap ghoor rahe hai, Derek."

Unrepentant, because he knows she doesn't mind his staring, he grins as they climb up the stairs of the restaurant. "Sundarta ko nihara jata hai. Vohi kar raha hu."

Arunika blushes prettily, her blush going down from her cheeks to the column of her throat that's exposed by the collar of her dress.

Derek wants to drag a finger over the skin, see if it heats with the blood rush or if it stays cool as always.

Maya pretends to barf.

Derek elbows her.

"Finally," she says dramatically when they reach the table where the rest of the boys are. "Main toh inn dono ko dekh ke jal ke khakh hi hone wali thi."

Mummy shakes his head at her. "At least you have a boyfriend. Imagine us, single people, watching them. Ugh."

"Toh aankhein bandh karke baith." Derek narrows his eyes at them and moves to let Arunika sit between himself and Acid, taking the seat at the outer edge of the sofa because he doesn't want her to sit at the edge, lest some creep sit at the table next to theirs.

She blushes again at his blatant acceptance of yes, they're both acting very coupley.

Anni narrows his eyes. "Kyu? Aisa kya karna hai tujhe ki humein aankhe bandh karni padegi?"

"Jo tu apni girlfriend ke saath nahi kar raha." Arunika shoots at him instantly. Anni deflates immediately, slouching back in his seat when he catches the warning look on her face.

Derek resists the urge to smirk smugly. He knows he shouldn't antagonise Anni, he's just looking out for his sister, but God it's so satisfying to see Arunika shamelessly defending Derek and his actions, even if they make her blush.

Under the table, he rests his hand on her knee, giving her a squeeze before pulling his hand away, lest he does something stupid, like dragging it upwards.

"Why haven't we ordered yet?" She asks the table at large.

"We're waiting for one more person," Sexa answers,"Remember that guy I told you about? The chess guy? Chotu? He's coming."

It's just because they're sitting so close that he feels Arunika tense up slightly beside himself. "Kyu?"

"Just like an interview," Acid says, waving his hand. "Waise toh starter ka bol diya hai humne, vo Chotu aaye uske baad main course ka order de denge."

Just then, a guy near their table. Derek instantly knows that's Chotu, because the man isn't even as tall as Maya, who is the shortest of their group. For fucks sake, he looks like he just passed from 10th standard. He even has a slight baby face, filled out cheeks with no facial hair and his hair cut in a perfect way that assures Derek that this dude's mom picked out the haircut.

"Hi." He says shyly, waving his hand slightly before dropping it immediately. "I'm Dev. Acid bhai ne bulaya tha."

The motherfucker's eyes dart between their group as Acid nods and Mummy shifts to make space for him. That's not what angers Derek, no. The actual maddening fact is that Derek has seen the way his eyes lingered on Arunika.

Objectively, Derek knows Arunika is a beautiful woman. Her curls, her big eyes, her defined muscles, her sense of style, it's all to die for.

But something ugly and angry rears it's head in Derek's chest when he catches Chotu's eyes drift to Arunika not less than five times in just as many minutes. He chances a look at Arunika, who nods at Chotu's introduction of himself and the generic small talk.

He even looks at Anni, who doesn't seem to notice this cockroach staring at his sister.

Oh, so when Derek looks at her, he gets a glare, but when this kid looks at Arunika, Anni is suddenly blind?

Fucker.

"Kaha se ho tum?" Maya asks him. Anni angles himself sideways to be an object between Maya and Chotu's line of vision because of course, he noticed the staring now.

"Rajkot se." He says, glancing nervously at Mummy and Sexa because he can feel the glares from Anni and Derek.

Arunika almost lights up. "Oh! You're a native Gujarati?"

While the words are phrased as a question, it's very clear it's not a question. Chotu nods nonetheless. "Ji."

"We're from Gujarat, as well." Anni says, before his sister gets too invested and excited. Thank god the idiot is noticing. "Ahemdabad."

This launches the three of them in a Gujarati conversation, but Chotu's accent is distinctly different from the twins'.

Theirs flows easily, almost like they're speaking too fast to compute, words looping and syllables dragging lazily. Chotu's words are sharp, choppy, and they sound like he's speaking a different language altogether, because while Arunika pronounces something with 'Sh', he only uses the 'h' sound.

Derek decides to ignore the two boys and keeps his focus on the gorgeous woman beside him. Arunika speaking in Gujarati really does something visceral in his heart. While her Hindi and English are polished, her Gujarati is unguarded, fast paced. The words roll on her tongue like she knows the language in her very bones, and it sounds like the nectar of gods from her mouth. He could spend hours listening to her.

(He wants to taste the words off her lips.)

"Bas, ab." Acid says, glaring at them,"Ya toh Hindi mein baat karo ya chup raho. Hoshiyari maar rahe hai bas."

Just because Derek is sitting beside her, he sees her hand move to pinch Acid's side. "Haa re. Anyway, let's order something. I'm starving."

They end up ordering Punjabi food, while Sexa complains that it won't be authentic because the restaurant isn't owned by a Punjabi person and they'll just eat a botched version of the sabzi instead of the superior ones like his mom makes.

Maya asks him to either cook for them or shut up. Surprisingly, it gets him to shut up. Derek and Arunika serve them the food because even in a comparatively nicer restaurant, the staff isn't trained in hospitality and they wouldn't stop to serve a bunch of college kids.

"Arre bas meri maa, itna nahi khaya jayega mujhse." Acid whines when Arunika serves him the sabzi. While the words aren't directed at him, Derek feels something soften in his chest. They all joke about him being their najayaz baap, but they've started to joke about Arunika being their super mom and it warms something in his chest.

She serves Derek without asking. He serves her the rotis, two, the exact amount she eats everyday.

While they both remain relatively quiet, the dinner table is still full of chaos. Anni steals the side salad from Acid, Mummy keeps dipping his roti in Maya's veggie sabzi, Sexa yells about not having enough salt, enough lemon, enough anything.

At one point, Anni and Chotu argue about ordering buttermilk or lassi and that's the only moment that Arunika involves herself and firmly says that buttermilk is clearly the superior option and Chotu, as a person from Rajkot, should be ashamed of himself for disliking buttermilk.

Derek breathes in, the scent of food added with Arunika's lavender and vanilla fragrance makes him heady. She's sitting on his left, so he has ample opportunity to touch her with his clean hand, but he refrains from doing that because his mom taught him table manners before she taught him cursive and it's ingrained in his brain.

Only, the manners take a deep dive when Chotu tries to flirt with Arunika.

"Aru," he says, making Derek's skin crawl,"You look absolutely gorgeous in that dress. It suits you so much."

Derek glares at him and then looks pointedly at Sexa, because he'll be damned if he steps in a conversation that doesn't include him. Bless him, he immediately understands.

Sexa snorts. "You know what doesn't suit her? That she and Derek are twinning and yet none of them have bothered to find me someone to twin with, even after I asked them three hundred times. Ugh."

Chotu's face falls for a moment and that's the moment Arunika realises that she and Derek are indeed matching. She shifts closer to him slightly, her bare shoulder brushing against the denim jacket and really, he hates that he's wearing that jacket. If he hadn't been wearing it, she'd be touching his bare arm as well.

Arunika's foot shifts under the table, brushing against his own doc martens. Her anklet chimes softly, almost lost in the sound of their table, but it's been so ingrained in his head that he'll catch it even in the crowd of a Ganesh visarjan day, he's sure.

Derek says fuck it to his manners and puts down his clean hand, holding her knee under the table. She's crossed her legs under the table, causing her dress to ride up slightly. So when his hand lands on her knee, it's half cotton and half her skin that he feels, which really makes him look up and consider that all the idiots are here and he cannot cross lines with her when her brother is sitting across her.

Chotu tries to flirt with Arunika again, by the time dinner ends.

Only this time, he's speaking in Gujarati and Derek only realises it's something flattering because Anni shoots that fucker a glare that could melt glaciers.

Before he can try to figure out what was said, Arunika whispers for him to get up because she wants to wash her hands. He gets up, allowing her to leave and she brushes against his chest as she moves. It all but kills him. He sits back down but he doesn't even take a full minute before he stands up too, muttering something to Acid about washing his hands as well, and immediately follows the path Arunika took.

He finds her in the room that has a wash basin and a mirror, thankfully, the restrooms are in other rooms.

There's less chance of being interrupted.

Arunika is reapplying her lipstick when Derek finds her. She doesn't look surprised to find him there. "Just give me a second," she mutters,"I'll stop hogging the mirror in a moment."

Derek steps directly behind her and puts his hands on her hips, feeling the soft cotton under his hands, the heels of his hands resting on her hip bones.

"I don't care about the mirror." He leans in and flicks open the tap, keeping her trapped between his arms while he leisurely washes his hands.

He can't keep away from her, he can't, but fuck, her proximity makes him go insane. They're pressed together from shoulders to feet and he feels every inch of hers against every inch of his and dear god, he really thinks Arunika is as close to being pious as he'll come.

Even as his body whispers of betrayal against his discipline, Derek hears Arunika gasp slightly and she sucks in a breath that hollows the column of her throat.

"So sensitive, Aru." He teases her, tightening his arms around her as he turns off the water. He looks into the mirror, where she's already looking back at him, her hand frozen in air with the lipstick hovering near her lips.

(The lips that Derek wants to taste, because he's wondering what they taste like, again. Probably something like salvation.)

Derek nuzzles his face against her shoulder and her body relaxes instantly, the shoulders dropping. Almost as if making space for him.

He looks at her through the mirror, watching his hair fall over his forehead, watching it hide the heart earring in her ear, watching as her breath hitches and her chest rises in response. He keeps his wet hands on the counter, lest he ruin her dress, but the idea of watching the imprint of his hands on her dress makes something feral growl in his chest.

A mark, a declaration of devotion.

"Tum sach main kitni khubsurat ho, meri jaan," he whispers in an almost groan as her lavender scent strengthens as he nuzzles his nose in her column of her neck. "Tumhe aise hi seene se laga ke rakhne ka mann karta hai."

In the mirror, Arunika's lips turn in a soft smile. "Maine kab mana kiya aapko, Maharaj ji?"He releases her and steps back, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his hands. Arunika turns to him, her back towards the mirror and she puts the lipstick away, back to her pocket.

Derek doesn't shy away from fully grabbing her waist now. He knows they've been gone too long, he knows they'll be teased and if his luck is particularly terrible, Anni will spend the rest of the week glaring at him. But he can't leave without asking—

"Can I have a smoke, Jaana?" Under the yellow lights of the washroom, her cheeks flush red and she looks like she's trying to control a smile and miserably failing.

Arunika swats his chest, just over his cross and gives him a reluctant smile. "Aapko kisi ne bataya hai aap bohot ziddi ho?"

"Akele mein aap karke bulana bandh kar sakti ho," he tells her, because he knows she won't take the hint and use informal words with him. She's got her own set of manners ingrained in her and their age difference wouldn't let her call him from an informal tone. "Aur sawal ke saamne sawal nahi puchte, Jaana. Can I? At least, before your brother comes here and threatens to hit me?"

Arunika chuckles softly and wraps her arms around his neck, getting on her tip toes and pressing her lips against his jaw. It's a strategic place, he knows. His stubble will hide her lipstick marks and she's kissed the side that she'll be facing so there's no question raised from anyone else as well.

Derek's breath hitches and his fingers tighten on her waist almost subconsciously. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck.

She's so... perfect. And she's in his arms. Arunika pulls back, her warm breath lingering on his jaw like a phantom ghost and he misses it instantly.

He'd rather be haunted by the ghost of her touch than not get to touch her at all.

But God, fuck, he does want to kiss her. Properly. Not the quick peck she gave him this afternoon.

Later, he tells himself, taking a breath and opening the door for Arunika. When they win the carroom match tomorrow. Standing outside the door, with a hand raised, is Acid. "Oh—" he almost sings instantly as he sees them in the doorway, Arunika's cheeks flushed and Derek eerily still.

Arunika takes a single step, stepping into his personal space, and clears her throat. "Kuch kehna hai?"

"Nahi, nahi, bilkul nahi." He back tracks immediately,"Meri koi majaal main kuch kahu tujhse?"

"Kisi se kuch kahega?" Derek asks because he knows the asshole. Acid almost pouts but shakes his head. "Nahi, tum log kaha Masti karne dete ho?"

"Bas, beta, zaban mat lada. Haath dho ke aa, icecream khilaungi." Arunika tells him, patting his shoulder in a way that's half patronizing and half actual affection. A

cid is almost inside the room before he turns to them and grins,"Nahi, ek dusre se zaban ladana toh Maa Baap ka kaam hai na?"

The double meaning isn't lost on either of them. Before they can berate him (and really, Derek most definitely will yell at him about inappropriate comments later, because while he keeps such thoughts about Arunika locked in the back of his head, he expects all of his boys to remain respectful towards her), he closes the door of the washroom and they hear the stopper lock in.

"Ghelo." Arunika mutters under her breath and Derek laughs. He's been around her enough now that he understands the insults that she uses in affection and the ones she hurls like poison. He doesn't completely grasp their meanings or pronounciations, but with her saying it, he recognises it well.

(Stupid.)

When they reach the table, it quietens down because they're obnoxiously late for someone who went to wash their hands. Anni glares at Derek. Arunika clears her throat, reaches for her glass of water and takes a dainty sip, almost daring anyone to say something out of normal.

Chotu, that fucker, ends up smiling at her,"Anni was just telling me that you're from Ahemdabad. I've never been there. Is it as chaotic as they say?"

It steers the conversation to hometowns of each of them and Derek only refrains from glaring at Chotu because his lead on the conversation made Arunika relax and her face glows as she talks about her hometown.

Derek misses his own home back in Pune. He misses his siblings, if not his parents, who may be messed up but they do love him. God, he needs to hug his siblings, needs Neil's marvel obsession to swallow him, needs Jenny's demands for pet cats and dogs to drown him.

Arunika presses her foot against his, brings him back to the present, where they're all now agreeing that instead of icecream, they want drinks.

"You can go for drinks, we'll go back to hostel. Our curfew is nearing." Maya is saying. She looks at all of them, especially Anni, before looking at Arunika.

Arunika nods,"Yeah. We can get a rickshaw now if we hurry."

"Absolutely not." Derek says as the rest of the boys protest that well. "I picked you up, I'm dropping you off."

Maya shakes her head,"You'll get late because of us."

"It doesn't matter, Maya," Mummy says,"Itna late tum dono ko rickshaw nahi leni chahiye."

Arunika opens her mouth to say something but Derek squeezes her knee under the table and gives her a look. "It's not up for discussion. Get up, I'll drop you two off to your hostel and I'll join these idiots again."

"You do realise I only enjoy your bossiness in a limit, yes?" Arunika says, raising an eyebrow at him.

Derek grins and gets up, forwarding his hand to her. "Meri Maharani Sahiba, kya aap aur aapki ye saheli, mujhe ye mauka dengi ki main aapki seva kar saku?"

Arunika snorts and shakes her head, muttering something under her breath in Gujarati while she takes his hand and gets up. After a quick goodbye, they're just leaving when Chotu also says that he wants to leave.

"Thoda aage chal ke jaa, udhar chaar rasta padta hai, vaha se rickshaw jaldi mil jayegi." Derek hears Anni tell the idiot.

Good. Like hell he was going to help that fucker in any way.

Derek wants to talk to Arunika in private, wants to see her blush, wants to hold her to himself but he can't do that yet, because of their college bullshit, his GC stress and the fact that they almost never get privacy.

He drops them off at their hostel and watches silently until they both disappear in the hallway of their hostel.

It's only an hour later, when he's punching Raggie, that Derek remembers that Arunika left a lipstick mark on his jaw, because he sees his own reflection in the glass and the pink of her lipstick is well hidden but damn, does it make him think a lot of thoughts.

Raggie lands a punch whole Derek is distracted. Before Derek can hit back, Mummy yells and they all freeze up because what the fuck even happened and—

Dear fucking hell, these boys are a threat unto themselves because what do you mean Mummy managed to hurt himself by a mirror?!

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The Gravity of You

Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of my imagination, except hotie Tahir raj Bhasin (derek). References to real Mumbai landmarks are used fictitiously for atmosphere. Depictions of "ragging" or conflict are for dramatic tension and do not reflect the author's values or institutional policies.

Derek (from chhichhore) x reader

his love language, calling her laila... His Laila

Chapter- I

₊˚⊹♡

The Mumbai humidity was at its peak, the kind of heavy heat that made the Gothic arches of the college look like they were sweating.

It was "Fresher’s Week," a time of organized chaos where the hierarchy of the food chain was established.

Derek pulled through the main gates on his blacked-out Cafe Racer, the roar of the engine bouncing off the stone walls.

He wasn't supposed to park in the inner courtyard—that was reserved for faculty—but Derek lived in the grey areas of the law. He kicked the kickstand down, pulled off his helmet, and shook out his dark, messy hair.

He was reaching for his cigarettes when he heard the whistling.

In the center of the dusty sports ground, a group of third-year seniors had cornered the new batch of girls. It was "normal" ragging—nothing malicious, just the usual Bombay college initiation: singing cheesy Bollywood songs or wearing their dupattas as turbans.

Derek leaned against his bike, lighting up, prepared to be bored. But then, he saw her.

y/n was standing in the middle of a circle of shouting seniors.

Unlike the other girls who were giggling nervously or on the verge of tears, she stood with a quiet, terrified dignity.

The afternoon sun hit her face, illuminating skin that looked like silk and eyes that were wide, dark, and shimmering with unshed salt.

"Aye, Fresher!" one of the senior guys shouted, grinning.

"Itna ghuman kis baat ka? (Why so much pride?) Sing 'Chaiyya Chaiyya' and do the hook step, or you’re not leaving this circle."

y/n’s voice trembled, barely audible over the distant roar of the city traffic.

"Please... mujhe ghar jaana hai. (Please... I want to go home.)"

Derek stopped mid-inhale.

There was something about the way she held her notebooks to her chest, like a shield, that made his chest tighten. She looked so soft, so out of place in this concrete jungle—like a wildflower growing in the middle of a Mumbai pothole.

"Hey! Laila!" Derek’s voice cut through the air like a knife.

The circle went dead silent. The seniors turned, their bravado evaporating the moment they saw the leather jacket and the cold, genius-level indifference in Derek’s eyes.

Derek exhaled a plume of smoke and walked toward them, his boots crunching on the dry grass.

He stopped right in front of y/n.

Up close, she smelled like jasmine and nervous energy. He could see a single bead of sweat trailing down her temple.

He didn't look at the seniors. He only looked at her.

"Naam kya hai?" (What's your name?) he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle, dropping the usual sandpaper grit.

"y/n,...y/n Malhotra" she whispered, looking up at him.

She had to crane her neck; he was a head taller, a wall of rebellion standing between her and the world.

Derek turned his head slightly toward the seniors, his expression shifting into something dangerous.

"Ho gaya drama? Ya main Dean ko bataun ki tum log ground mein circus chala rahe ho? (Done with the drama? Or should I tell the Dean you're running a circus in the ground?)"

"Derek sir, we were just having fun—" the leader stammered.

"Chalo, katlo yahan se. Fatafat." (Move it, get out of here. Fast.)"

As the crowd dispersed in a hurry, the ground suddenly felt too big and too quiet. y/n let out a breath she’d been holding for a lifetime.

Her knees wobbled, and she instinctively reached out, her small hand catching the sleeve of Derek’s jacket.

The contact felt like an electric shock. Derek, the guy who calculated quantum physics for fun, suddenly couldn't remember how to breathe.

Her face was so innocent, so untouched by the cynicism of this city.

"You okay?" he asked, his thumb tracing the edge of his lighter.

"Thank you," she said, her Hindi sounding soft and melodic.

"Aap... aap sab ki madad aise hi karte hain?" (Do you always help everyone like this?)"

Derek felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his heart was hammering a rhythm he didn't recognize.

"Nahi. Sirf unki jinka chehra itna masoom ho ki dekh kar math ke equations bhool jaun." (No. Only those whose faces are so innocent that looking at them makes me forget math equations.)"

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for a second too long on her skin.

y/n blushed a deep, dusty rose, her gaze dropping to her shoes.

"I’m Derek, Derek Kapoor... 3rd year," he said, stepping back to give her space, though he already knew he never wanted to be far from her again.

"Sambhal kr jaana, y/n. Bombay thoda tezz hai... aur main bhi. (Go carefully, y/n. Bombay is a bit fast... and so am I.)"

He turned back to his bike, but he didn't put his helmet on until he saw her safely reach the college gates.

He had come to the ground to park a bike, but for the first time in his life, Derek felt like he was the one who had been parked—stuck, completely and hopelessly, on a girl he didn't even know.

The St. Xavier’s library was a cathedral of silence, mahogany, and the scent of centuries-old dust.

Large arched windows looked out over the Mumbai skyline, but today, they were blurred by a thick grey sheet of rain.

y/n had fled here to find peace.

The encounter on the ground a few days ago had left her restless.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that sharp jawline and the way his leather jacket smelled of tobacco and the monsoon.

She walked deep into the "Stacks"—the narrow, dimly lit aisles where the rare reference books were kept.

She needed a specific volume of Advanced Calculus. Finding it on the highest shelf, she stood on her tiptoes, fingers straining.

"Looking for this? Ya height ka intezar kar rahi ho?" (Or are you waiting for your height to grow?)

The voice was like a low vibration right behind her ear.

y/n jumped, her heart leaping into her throat. She spun around, only to find herself trapped between the bookshelf and the solid chest of Derek.

He looked different today. No leather jacket—just a black t-shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal a tattoo of a complex mathematical fractal on his forearm.

He reached up effortlessly, his arm brushing her shoulder as he pulled the heavy book from the shelf.

"Derek," she breathed, her voice echoing in the hallowed silence.

"Pehchann liya? I'm honored," he smirked, flipping the book open. He didn't hand it to her. Instead, he leaned one hand against the shelf, effectively boxing her in.

"Calculus? First year ke liye thoda zyada nahi hai?" (Isn't this a bit much for a first year?)

"I like a challenge," y/n replied, trying to regain her composure, though the proximity was making it hard to think.

"Aur aap? Yahan kya kar rahe hain? Everyone says you never attend classes." (And you? What are you doing here?)

Derek leaned in closer, the smirk fading into something more intense. The light from the window caught the amber flecks in his eyes.

"Main yahan chupne aata hoon, y/n. Duniya se... aur khud se." (I come here to hide, Y/N. From the world... and from myself.) He paused, his gaze dropping to her lips before snapping back to her eyes.

"Lekin aaj lagta hai, chupne ki jagah milne ki wajah mil gayi." (But today it feels like instead of a place to hide, I found a reason to be found.)

He began flipping through the pages of the book he just pulled down. He stopped at a blank page at the back and pulled a pen from his pocket.

With a fluid, practiced motion, he scribbled a single, long equation.

"Solve this," he challenged, sliding the book into her hands.

Y/N looked at it. It was a mess of integrals and Greek symbols.

"This isn't in our syllabus."

"Zindagi syllabus se nahi chalti, meri Laila." (Life doesn't run on a syllabus.) He leaned down so his lips were inches from her temple.

"If you solve it by tomorrow, I’ll buy you the best cutting chai in South Bombay. If you can’t... you have to tell me why you were looking for me in the hallways yesterday."

Y/N’s breath hitched. "I—I wasn't looking for you."

Derek gave a knowing, wolfish grin.

"Tumhari aankhen jhoot bolna nahi jaanti. Seekh lo... kaam aayega is sheher mein." (Your eyes don't know how to lie. Learn it... it'll help in this city.)

He straightened up and began to walk away, his footsteps silent on the carpeted floor.

"Derek!" she whispered-yelled.

He stopped and turned, one eyebrow arched.

"The equation," she said, clutching the book to her chest.

"It’s missing a constant. It’s unsolvable without the limit."

Derek froze. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face—not the smirk of a rebel, but the look of a man who had finally found a match for his mind.

He walked back, took her pen, and added a small x to infinity symbol.

"Genius bhi ho. Problem ho jayegi," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. (You're a genius too. This is going to be a problem.)

"Why?"

"Kyuki ab mujhe tumse peecha chhudane mein aur bhi takleef hogi." (Because now I'll have an even harder time getting you out of my head.)

He winked, tapped the cover of her book twice, and disappeared into the shadows of the library, leaving y/n standing in the quiet, her heart racing faster than any Mumbai local train.

The next day, Bombay decided to show its true colors. The sky was a bruised purple, and the rain wasn't just falling—it was reclaiming the city.

y/n sat in the college canteen, the air thick with the smell of fried samosas and wet umbrellas.

In front of her lay the library book. She hadn’t slept.

She had spent the entire night under her table lamp, her fingers stained with ink, chasing the variables Derek had thrown at her like a challenge.

She had done it. At 3:14 AM, the chaos of the equation had collapsed into a single, beautiful integer.

"Solving for 'X', or just staring at the page until it surrenders?"

The stool next to her scraped against the floor. Derek sat down, looking effortlessly cool in a damp grey hoodie, droplets of rain clinging to his eyelashes.

He placed a steaming paper cup of cutting chai on the table between them.

y/n didn't say a word.

She simply turned the book around. At the bottom of his messy scribbles, she had written the answer in her neat, rhythmic cursive.

Answer = 1

Derek stared at the page. For a moment, the charismatic rebel was gone, replaced by a stunned silence.

He looked at the answer, then at her, his eyes tracing the slight dark circles under her eyes that told him she’d stayed up for him.

"Tum sach mein khatarnaak ho," he muttered, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. (You are truly dangerous.)

"A promise is a promise," y/n said, her voice gaining a newfound confidence.

"You owe me the best chai in South Bombay. Aur ye canteen ki chai count nahi hoti." (And this canteen tea doesn't count.)

Derek’s eyes darkened with something softer than mischief.

"This isn't South Bombay, y/n. This is just college. If you want the real deal, you have to leave the campus gates."

He stood up and extended a hand. It was a silent invitation—a bridge between her world of rules and his world of rain-slicked roads.

y/n looked at his hand, then at the crowded canteen.

If she walked out with him, her reputation as the "Good Girl" would be over before the first semester ended.

She took his hand. His skin was warm, his grip firm and grounding.

The ride to Marine Drive was a blur of neon lights reflected in puddles.

y/n clung to the back of Derek’s leather jacket, her face pressed against his shoulder to shield herself from the wind.

He drove like he lived—fast, precise, and completely unafraid of the curves.

He pulled over near a small, nameless stall tucked under a banyan tree right across from the Arabian Sea. The waves were crashing against the tetrapods, sending salt spray into the air.

"Two specials, Kaka," Derek called out, leaning against the stone sea wall.

He turned to y/n, the wind ruffling his hair. "Why did you do it? Most girls would have just ignored the equation. Tumne puri raat jaag kar ise solve kyun kiya?" (Why did you stay up all night to solve this?)

y/n looked at the dark horizon, the rain cooling her heated cheeks.

"Because you made it look like a riddle. And I... I wanted to see if I could speak your language."

Derek stepped closer, blocking the wind for her. The silence between them wasn't awkward; it was charged, like the air before a lightning strike.

"Meri zubaan thodi mushkil hai, laila. Sabko samajh nahi aati," he whispered, reaching out to wipe a drop of rain from her nose. (My language is a bit difficult, laila. Not everyone understands it.)

"I’m a fast learner," she countered, her heart doing a frantic dance.

The vendor handed them two glasses of chai, the ginger and cardamom scent cutting through the salty air.

As they sipped the burning hot liquid, Derek looked at her with an intensity that made the rest of the city disappear.

"You know," he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly intimacy.

"Main hamesha sochta tha ki is sheher mein sab kuch bheed hai. Shor hai. Par tumhe dekh kar... sab kuch chup ho gaya hai." (I always thought everything in this city was just a crowd. Noise. But looking at you... everything has gone quiet.)

y/n looked down at her chai, her voice barely a whisper.

"Derek, we're very different. Aapko rules todna pasand hai, aur mujhe unhe follow karna." (You like breaking rules, and I like following them.)

Derek laughed softly, stepping into her personal space until their shoulders touched. "Toh theek hai na? Main rasta todunga, tum rasta dikhana. Physics ka law hai... opposites attract for a reason." (So it's fine, right? I'll break the path, you show the way. It's a law of physics...)

He tilted her chin up with his forefinger. For the first time, the "Bad Boy" looked vulnerable.

"Just don't disappear when the sun comes out, okay? Bombay ki baarish ka bharosa nahi, par mera hai." (You can't trust Bombay's rain, but you can trust me.)

y/n smiled, a small, genuine thing that reached her eyes.

In that moment, surrounded by the roar of the ocean and the smell of ginger tea, she realized that the most dangerous thing about Derek wasn't his bike or his rebellion—it was the way he made her feel like she finally belonged in the chaos.

The atmosphere in the hostel was thick with the scent of rain and damp concrete.

Derek was sitting on his bike outside the girls' hostel, a single red rose tucked into his jacket—a peace offering for the two weeks he was supposed to be away.

But y/n hadn’t come down.

She hadn’t even answered her phone.

Her roommate, Preeti, came out instead, her face pale.

"Derek, woh nahi aayegi," Preeti whispered, looking over her shoulder.

"Sameer and his friends cornered her near the back gate after the library closed yesterday. She managed to run away, but... woh darr gayi hai. She hasn't left her room or eaten anything. She just sits there, staring at the door."

The rose in Derek’s hand snapped. The velvet petals fell into the mud, unnoticed.

The shift in Derek wasn't loud. It was a terrifying, glacial silence. His eyes, usually sparking with genius, went completely flat—like a predator that had finally locked onto its prey.

"Hostel Block B?" he asked, his voice a low, vibrating hum that made Preeti shiver.

"Derek, please, don't—"

But he was already gone.

The air in the room seemed to vanish. Derek didn't ask another question. He didn't even put on his jacket. He stood up, and the look in his eyes wasn't the usual playful spark of a genius; it was the cold, terrifying stillness of a storm about to break.

Derek’s walk across the campus was slow, deliberate, and chilling.

Every step he took toward the 3rd-year boys' hostel—Sameer’s block—felt like a countdown. Students moved out of his way instinctively. He didn't look left or right. His jaw was locked so tight the muscles in his face stood out like cords.

He reached the heavy wooden doors of Block B. He didn't knock.

He kicked the door open, the sound echoing through the hallway like a gunshot.

"SAMEER!"

His voice wasn't a shout; it was a low, vibrating growl that reached every corner of the floor.

He found him in the common room, laughing with his friends over a game of cards. Sameer looked up, his smirk faltering as he saw Derek standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the darkening Mumbai sky.

"Derek? Arre, kya hua, bhai? Itna gussa—"

Derek didn't let him finish. He moved faster than anyone expected, his hand reaching out and seizing Sameer’s throat. He slammed him backward onto the card table, scattering the deck across the floor.

"Teri himmat kaise hui?" Derek hissed, his face inches from Sameer’s. (How did you have the audacity?)

"Maine kaha tha na usse dur rehne ko?" (Didn't I tell you to stay away from her?)

"Derek, chhodo mujhe! Woh toh bas mazak—"

"MAZAK?" Derek’s fist connected with Sameer’s stomach, doubling him over.

"Mdarchd, tujhe mazak lagta hai kisi ladki ko darana?" (You (Cuss), you think scaring a girl is a joke?)

Derek grabbed Sameer by the hair and dragged him toward the open corridor. Sameer’s friends tried to step in, but one look from Derek—a wild, predatory glint—sent them backing away.

"Aaj tu seekhega ki 'Nahi' ka matlab kya hota hai, b*enchod!" (Today you'll learn what 'No' means, [Cuss]!)

Derek threw him against the concrete wall.

Thud.

The sound was visceral. He grabbed Sameer’s collar, lifting him until his toes barely touched the ground.

"Uska chehra yaad kar," Derek snarled, punching him across the jaw.

"Memory bohot achi hai na teri? Yaad rakhna ki usne 'nahi' kaha tha." (Remember her face. Your memory is great, right? Remember that she said 'no'.)

Another punch. Then another. Derek wasn't just fighting; he was dismantling him with the same precision he used on machines, but with a thousand times more hatred.

"Kaminey, agar uske aansu ka ek katra bhi teri wajah se gira, toh main teri haddiyaan ginne layak nahi chhodunga!" (You scoundrel, if even a single drop of her tear falls because of you, I won't leave your bones in a state to be counted!)

Sameer was a bloody mess on the floor, coughing and pleading. Derek stood over him, his knuckles raw and dripping, his chest heaving. He looked like a fallen angel—beautiful, brilliant, and absolutely lethal.

The crowd of students parted as the Warden and the Head of Discipline arrived, their faces grim. They saw Sameer on the floor and Derek, standing there like a statue of vengeance.

"Kapoor! My office. Now!" the Warden barked.

Inside the dimly lit office, the Warden looked at Derek’s blood-stained hands and sighed. He knew Derek was the brightest mind the college had seen in a decade.

"Derek, you can't keep doing this," the Warden said, his voice lower now.

"I know why you did it. Everyone knows what Sameer is like. But this level of violence? Tumhe nikaal diya jayega. (You will be kicked out.)"

Derek didn't flinch.

"He touched her, Sir. If the college won't protect its students, I will."

The Warden leaned forward.

"This is your final warning, Derek. No suspension today—only because Sameer’s record is already filthy and he won't dare report this. But one more move, one more fight, and you are gone. Samjhe? (Understand?)"

"I understand," Derek said, his voice cold.

"But if he touches her again, Sir, your suspension won't be enough to stop me."

Derek didn't go back to his room. He went to the girls' hostel. He stood outside the gate in the pouring rain, his bloodied hand hidden in his pocket.

He waited.

Ten minutes.

Twenty.

Finally, y/n appeared at the window of the first floor.

Her eyes were red from crying, but when she saw him standing there—drenched, bruised, but steady—her breath caught.

He didn't say a word. He just lifted his hand—the clean one—and touched his heart, then pointed to her.

"Ab koi nahi aayega, meri laila," he whispered into the wind, knowing she couldn't hear him, but hoping she could feel it. (No one will come now, my laila.)

"Main hoon na." (I'm here, aren't I?)

₊˚⊹♡

tags

@rini4everdreaming @jexify @skiicoreee , @suvarnarekha , @dearrosary , @rainpuddlesoup , @geometric-circle , @nooriyat , @strawbxx-blog , @ramayantika , @pinkfreakpie @ooopssssu , @tangledworm , @bloo3moon @maraudersbitchesassemble , @nerdreader @patrakilekha , @zahraluvslilies @phenolphthaleinein @thewintersbloom @sparksfromhell 💌

BRO derek and rehman have the same fucking aura, like the parallels are insane. smoking a cigarette while walking, drinking and chainsmoking, THAT FUCKING SMIRK (shown below), the "sabka najayaz baap hu" attitude- yeah, i def have a type.