The men's changing room is empty at the late hour. Samrat strips the official badges from his uniform and carefully sets them inside his personal locker. He then unbuttons his shirt all the way down when Farhan steps closer to him. Farhan lifts the damp fabric sticking to Samrat's shoulder and examines the scalded skin there.

Samrat's peachy-fair skin is red as a Kashmiri apple. Farhan winces.

"Oh god! Sam! Are you alright? How do you feel?"

"Come on, Farhan! It's nothing."

Samrat chuckles and adjusts his shirt. The damp fabric feels cold and soothing over his burning shoulder again. But he needs to apply some ice soon.

"How's it nothing? Doesn't it hurt, Sam?" Farhan asks, readying an ice pack, dropping ice cubes he got from Ramu Kaka into a sealable silicone pouch.

Samrat only smiles in response, checking his options. There is a spare shirt in his locker, but his shift has ended. He might as well just drive home like this and get changed into pyjamas. Of course it hurts. It hurt him to be so bossy around Tanvi. And of course, his shoulder also hurts. There is pain and burning sensation, but it is tolerable. Not to mention he deserves this pain. What hurts the most? Yeah, to keep hurting Tanvi...

As Samrat is lost in thoughts, Farhan places the icepack over the other man's shoulder.

"Really, Sam! Kisne socha... ki Tanvi aisa karegi! I mean, tune usey gussa dilaya, par fir bhi! The tea was boiling hot na..."

Samrat shakes his head, taking the ice pack. "I deserved it, yaar."

Farhan stares at Samrat in disbelief. He sighs and takes a step back, leaning against the metal lockers going up to the ceiling. There's no air conditioning in here, but they turned on the fan and light when they came in. The metal feels lukewarm against his back, reflecting how terrible summers are.

"Come on, Samrat! You deserve it? Toh tum Tanvi ko satate kyun ho? Kyun usko satana aur fir sochana ki tum saza ke haqdar ho?"

Farhan heaves another soft sigh and folds his arms. Samrat continues to press the ice pack against his shoulder. His thoughts go like this — If he deserves pain, then this ice pack should go, right? Farhan appears so depressed, sighing nonstop, also muttering how painful it must be for his best buddy to have his shoulder doused in hot tea.

"Farhan, don't worry about me. I'm fine. As faujis, we've been through worse na. This hot tea is nothing."

Farhan nods at Samrat's words. He knows they both have experienced worse, so did everyone in Hawks. Bullet wounds, bomb blasts, gunfights, the chaos of being a special unit officer in the air force, committed to their mission. Before either of them can speak, the glass door to the changing room opens with a creek and enters Tanvi.

Samrat stares at Tanvi with wide eyes. She runs straight to him. Farhan takes a step back, blending into the background and giving his friends some space. Anyone can tell by a mere look, Tanvi's eyes are filled with regret and anguish as she regards Samrat.

"Sam..."

Tanvi whispers Samrat's name as if it's a prayer. Her gaze falls on the ice pack he's clutching over his shoulder. She visibly flinches, recalling the events that led to his current state. Of course she knows this is the men's changing room. Of course, she saw Samrat's state of undress while she was entering the changing room. The front of his shirt undone, the display of peachy-perfect skin there — ahem!

That doesn't deter her. Nothing can! She takes a step closer to him; there's barely any distance between them.

"Sam, why..."

She lifts her gaze from his shoulder to meet his eyes. He's already looking at her, his eyes narrowed, reflecting profound sorrow and something else. Affection? Tanvi isn't sure. A moment passes, then two. She doesn't dare to look away or breathe. Samrat doesn't look away either, stunned and glued to the sudden confrontation with her.

"Why did you bring us here?"

Samrat frowns at Tanvi's question. That's my question, he thinks, you brought us here. If only you didn't love me then...

Then what? I wouldn't have fallen for you too? He isn't sure. Before he can think further, Tanvi places her hand on his uninjured shoulder, closing the distance between them further. She eyes his other shoulder, the one she threw the hot tea on.

"I'm sorry..." she murmurs sorrowfully. "But this is all your fault..."

Her voice is so faint, Samrat can't hear it. She suddenly looks him in the eye, screaming in his face, "idiot! Stop being this worst ladka!"

Samrat's heart skips a beat because she's so beautiful, even more pure from up close. He should pull away from her, but his body is frozen, refusing to move.

What's wrong with Tanvi? Why can't she move away? Why is she looking into his eyes with those soulful, love-filled eyes of hers... All that love for him? He's undeserving. How can he stop being the worst kism ka, when he's already the worst?

"Just, just stop it, Sam..." Tanvi says, oblivious to his thoughts. "Nothing you ever do will make me hate you. Stop trying!"

He stares at her, wide-eyed, stumped by her declaration. He can't believe she saw right through his plan to make her hate him.

Tanvi chuckles lightly. She's still close, her hand resting on his shoulder, earnest eyes looking up at him.

"Yakeen nahi ho raha hai, hai na? Samajh mei nahi aa rahi na meri baatein, Sam?"

She smiles again, this time oh so beautifully, but there's a hint of sadness to her smile.

"I'll tell you again, Sam."

Samrat blinks in confusion, watches her go up on her toes in wonder...

She presses her lips to his in a chaste, quick kiss!

Wha—

She pulls back while he's frozen, unable to react. For the second time in a row, he's at a loss, watching her with his heart pounding wildly. What, what... Did she kiss me — Ack! Samrat coughs and looks away for a moment.

Tanvi smiles. Surprisingly, her expression is free of bashfulness.

"I love you," she whispers when he looks at her again. "I love you, Sam. That will not change no matter what, okay?"

She puts her both arms over his shoulders now in a loose hug, as if to soothe him. Samrat has a hard time processing what's happening. Taking in his bewildered expression, she laughs lightly again.

"Waise tumhe kya problem hai yaar! Mere feelings mere hain na!" Her tone is the same friendly one she uses with him,

"Main tumhe accept karne ke liye nahin bol rahi hoon na! Stop picking on me, Sam. Stop being this worst ladka. I know that's not you. And if that's you in the past, I just don't care. Main humesha tumse pyar karti rahoongi. I will always love you... remember that."

Tanvi pulls away after saying those heartfelt words. Showing him a soft smile and murmuring an apology again, she runs out of the changing room.

Samrat, who has lapsed into a state of shock, has trouble coming out of it. Of course, he heard what Tanvi said. He even felt her kiss! Ugh, damn—

Somewhere in the middle, when she began speaking her heart out, the silicone ice pack he was holding against his shoulder fell to the ground. He picks it up in a daze. He desperately wishes someone will tell him what just happened is a dream!

Tanvi, idiot! What were you thinking — Kissing me like that! Saying you'll only love me... Idiot... Idiot... How could you... k-... No, I can't say it again. I'm too embarrassed. Yep, my brain's short-circuited cos of you, you silly girl! Ugh! Ya Allah...

***

🌟TBC🌟

WC: 1.2k

❣️Up next: Farhan and Samrat talk. The kiss makes Samrat awkward, but Tanvi... Pasa palat? She has the upper hand while Samrat is...?? What happens next? Samrat doesn't seem to be the worst type anymore, but will he accept Tanvi's love? Or will he fight back and gain upper-hand over her again and turn the worst ladka??

🌟Sneak peek into the Next chapter:🌟

Samrat buttons up his shirt and shuts his locker. Click. Farhan comes up behind him after he finishes locking it.

"You're not changing?" Samrat answers Farhan's question before it comes. "Hum ghar jaa rahe na..."

They talk about what just happened! What are Samrat's thoughts? Stay tuned to read!