Samaira’s life for the next few days was a whirlwind of college lectures, study sessions, and sleepless nights. Her dream of becoming a neurosurgeon was so close, and she could almost feel its weight pressing on her. Her mind barely registered the world around her—her thoughts were consumed by notes, diagrams, and practice questions.

One evening, she sat at her desk, flipping through her books. The pages blurred together, but she forced herself to keep going. When Advait entered with a tray of food, she didn’t even look up.

“You haven’t eaten since morning,” he said, setting the tray down on her desk.

“I don’t have time,” she muttered, scribbling something in her notebook.

Advait raised an eyebrow. “No time to eat?”

“Nope,” she replied curtly, her eyes fixed on the page.

For a moment, there was silence. Then his voice came, low and amused, but with a teasing edge. “Fine, then I’ll feed you.”

Her pen froze mid-stroke. She finally looked up, her eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, sitting down on the edge of her desk. “If you’re too busy to eat, I’ll feed you. That way, you can keep studying without interruptions.”

Samaira stared at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. When she realized he wasn’t joking, she shook her head. “I don’t think—”

“Don’t overthink it,” he interrupted, picking up a spoonful of rice from the plate. “Open your mouth.”

She hesitated for a moment, her cheeks heating up, but then her rumbling stomach made the decision for her. Without a word, she leaned back slightly and opened her mouth.

“There we go,” Advait said with a soft chuckle, feeding her the spoonful.

She chewed quickly, her eyes darting back to her notes. Advait continued, feeding her bite by bite as she worked through her papers. Neither of them spoke much, but the quiet between them felt strangely comfortable.

Late that night, Samaira was still at her desk, her head propped up on one hand as she reviewed yet another set of notes. Her eyelids drooped, but she stubbornly fought off sleep.

She didn’t hear Advait enter until his voice broke the silence. “Still at it?”

She jumped slightly, turning to see him leaning against the doorframe. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hair was slightly disheveled, as if he’d been working too.

“I’m almost done,” she mumbled, turning back to her notes.

Advait walked closer, his footsteps soft on the floor. “Samaira, do you know how the brain works?”

“What kind of question is that?” she asked, annoyed.

“A serious one,” he said, standing beside her now. “The brain works better with rest and sleep. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you’ll burn out before the exam even starts.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though her voice wavered with exhaustion.

Advait sighed and reached out, gently placing his hand on top of hers, stilling her pen. She froze, looking up at him in surprise.

“You’re going to become a neurosurgeon,” he said softly, his eyes locking with hers. “You, of all people, should know better. Go to bed. I’ll wake you up early.”

Samaira’s heart skipped a beat at the unexpected gentleness in his voice. For a moment, she wanted to argue, but the sincerity in his gaze silenced her.

“Fine,” she relented, standing up reluctantly. “But only if you promise to wake me up at five.”

“Four-thirty,” he countered with a small smirk.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the faint smile that tugged at her lips. “Deal.”

As the days passed, these moments became more frequent. Advait’s subtle care and quiet presence became a constant in her otherwise chaotic routine. He made sure she ate, rested, and didn’t lose herself in the overwhelming pressure.

One afternoon, as she was buried in her notes, she muttered to herself, “I’ll never get this right.”

“What’s wrong?” Advait asked from the doorway.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, but he was already walking toward her.

“Show me,” he said, pulling up a chair beside her.

Samaira blinked at him. “You don’t know anything about this.”

“Try me,” he said with a challenging smile.

She hesitated but eventually explained the concept she was struggling with. To her surprise, he listened carefully, asking questions that actually helped her figure it out.

“You’re smarter than I thought,” she teased after solving the problem.

“And you’re more stubborn than I thought,” he shot back with a grin.

For the first time in days, Samaira laughed—a genuine, lighthearted laugh that momentarily erased all her stress.

Finally, the day of her last exam arrived. When she walked out of the exam hall, relief and pride coursed through her. She had done it. She had given it her all, and she knew it had paid off.

---

**The Result**

A week had passed since the exam, and Samaira’s nerves were fraying at the edges. The results had been posted online that morning, but she hadn’t had the courage to check them yet. She paced back and forth in her room, her stomach in knots, unable to even focus on anything else.

Advait walked into the room, sensing her restlessness. His gaze softened as he watched her, pacing like a caged animal.

“Samaira,” he said gently, catching her wrist before she could walk past him again. “You’re going to make yourself dizzy.”

“I can’t do it,” she said, her voice a whisper. “What if I failed? What if I messed up?”

Advait smiled softly and pulled her toward the desk, where her laptop sat. “You won’t know unless you check.”

“But what if—” she started, her breath shaky.

“Samaira, you’ve worked so hard for this. There’s nothing to fear now. You’ve already proven how strong you are. Whatever happens, I’m proud of you.”

She swallowed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. His words gave her the courage to finally sit down in front of the laptop. With trembling hands, she clicked the link to her results.

The page loaded, and her heart was hammering in her chest. She almost couldn’t bring herself to look at it.

Advait leaned over her shoulder, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Take a deep breath. Whatever happens, I’m right here.”

Samaira closed her eyes for a second, inhaled deeply, and then opened her eyes to the screen. Her name was listed at the top, and beneath it were the marks that made her freeze.

She stared at the screen, her breath catching. She had topped her college. Not only had she passed, but she had outshone everyone. The relief and joy hit her all at once, like a tidal wave.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and before she could even think, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around Advait.

“I did it!” she cried, her voice muffled in his chest. “I actually did it! I topped it!”

Advait smiled, pulling her close and gently rubbing her back. He could feel the excitement radiating off her, and it made his heart swell with pride.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Neurosurgeon,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. He held her for a few moments longer, letting the moment of triumph settle in.

Samaira pulled back just slightly, looking up at him with a wide smile. “Thank you... for being there for me through all of it. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Advait chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You did all the work, Samaira. I just made sure you didn’t forget to eat and sleep.”

Samaira laughed, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I’m not like you. I would surely say you thankyou for what you did.And ya you also deserve credit for this but... Don't you dare think for a moment I have forgotten what you did, it's just that I am too tired that I just want to spend some days in relaxation and getting the sleeps my body is craving for"

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “You’re not going to celebrate?”

“Not the way you would,” she replied, her eyes twinkling with a playful challenge. “But I’ll take a moment to enjoy it, without the grand gestures. I think it’s enough.”

Advait looked at her, his heart inexplicably light. “Well, if you’re not going to celebrate, I guess I’ll have to do it for you.” He smiled and stepped back, making a sweeping motion. “I’ll give you the credit in my own way.”

Samaira rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that crept onto her lips. “Don’t make it too extravagant,” she teased.

Advait smiled, his gaze softening as he admired her. “I won’t. But you deserve it.”

As she walked out of the room to process everything, a quiet sense of satisfaction settled over her. She had worked for this moment, and she had earned it. But more than the result, it was the way Advait had been there for her, quietly supporting her when she needed it most, that made this victory feel even more special.