Royal Scandal

Chapter 5: Two Hours

The library was locked.

And Mr. Das had just left with the only key.

Outside, the faint _ting-ting_ of his cycle bell drifted through the air before fading into nothing.

Rain resumed its steady, rhythmic tap against the tall glass panes—softer today, but heavier with a strange, isolated weight.

Siya stood at the old wooden door, both palms pressed flat against the dark grain.

Her breathing came fast, shallow.

"We're locked in," she said, her voice echoing faintly off the rafters. "He locked us inside... till 2:00 PM."

Behind her, Rehansh didn't panic.

He walked deliberately back to Table 1, pulled out his heavy oak chair, and sat down as if this were entirely according to plan.

As if being trapped in an empty, dimly lit library with a girl were merely an item on his daily schedule.

"Sit," he said, adjusting his file. "Panicking won't pick the lock."

She turned sharply, her eyes narrowing.

"You knew? You knew he locks up at 12:05?"

"The Dean's notice said so. You read it yesterday."

"Then why were you sitting there until 11:55 talking about my hands and my mother ironing? You made us late on purpose!"

He leaned back, resting an arm over the chair's top rail, perfectly unbothered.

"I didn't make us late. You were holding my jacket for two full minutes just staring at me. I was looking at you looking at me. We _both_ made us late."

A surge of heat rushed straight to her cheeks.

"I was not looking at you."

"You were."

"I was not!"

He reopened _Pride and Prejudice_, his expression effortlessly calm.

"Come sit down, Scholarship. We have two hours and two pages to write. We're locked in regardless. Nobody is coming."

Siya hesitated before walking back.

She pulled out her chair, setting it a noticeable distance farther from his than before.

A safe boundary.

He noticed immediately.

"Scared?"

"Of you? No."

"Of being locked in with me?"

"Of missing lunch," she shot back, though her voice lacked conviction. "I only have one tiffin."

His gaze drifted down to her bag—a small steel container wrapped in a faded blue cloth.

Then his eyes shifted to his own bag: sleek black leather containing an expensive meal his personal driver packed every morning, which he almost never touched.

"We can share," he said casually. "Unless you're afraid of my food, too."

"I'm not scared of anything," she muttered, sitting down.

For ten minutes, they tried to write.

The sharp scratch of pen on paper filled the air, but the silence between them was far too loud.

Yesterday, the silence had felt harmless—the doors were wide open, and anyone could walk past.

Today, the lock changed everything.

The air felt thick, heavy, as though the ancient library itself were holding its breath, watching them.

At 12:20 PM, the overhead lights flickered.

One of the old fluorescent tubes died with a sharp, low buzz.

Siya flinched.

"Old wiring," Rehansh said instantly. "The rain affects it."

Another flickering buzz echoed through the room.

The main tube light directly above their table went out completely.

The only light remaining came from a small, yellow desk lamp in the far corner, casting a warm but distant glow.

Shadows stretched deep into the high wooden bookshelves.

Outside, the rain beat louder against the dark glass.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

Without realizing it, she had pulled her chair much closer to his.

"I'm fine," she murmured, though her eyes kept darting toward the shadowy aisles between the stacks.

Rehansh sighed, stood up, and walked over to an old supply cupboard.

He retrieved two small brass desk lamps, brought them back, and set one directly in the center of their table.

He switched it on.

A pool of warm, golden light flooded the dark wood between them, pushing back the shadows.

Outside that circle of light, the library was pitch black.

Inside, it felt like their own small, isolated world.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better."

He didn't sit across from her this time.

Instead, he pulled his chair to the side of the table, placing himself at a right angle to her.

Close enough that both faced the window, but close enough that neither could look away.

"So I can see if you're scared," he offered by way of explanation.

"I told you, I'm not."

"Right. You're not scared."

He opened his notebook, tapping his pen against the page.

"First impressions. What did you write about me yesterday?"

Siya opened her file, her fingers tightening around the edge of the paper.

"You want me to read it?"

"Yes. We're trapped here. We have time."

She took a quiet breath and began to read, her soft voice carrying through the shadows:

"My first impression of my project partner is that he thinks this entire college belongs to him. He thinks he can brush past people and watch them crumble. He thinks an aggressive text message will make a girl run away. He wears a silver chain and a black jacket he claims he never lends to anyone—but he gave it to me. So maybe he isn't entirely heartless."

Silence stretched over the table when she finished.

Rehansh didn't move.

He simply stared at her, his dark eyes unreadable.

"Your turn," she whispered, needing to break the quiet.

He shifted in his chair, his tone flat, measured:

"My first impression of my project partner is that she holds her file like it's her entire life. She will kneel in the mud to pick up wet papers, but she refuses to cry in front of anyone. She has small hands, and she scrunches her nose when she's furious. She ironed my jacket simply because I ordered her to—something no one has ever done for me. She doesn't belong here, yet she acts as though she does. It's infuriating... and interesting."

_Interesting._

The word hung in the air.

He looked away abruptly, staring out at the sheet of rain against the window, his jaw clenched tight.

Siya's heart slammed against her ribs.

It was so quiet she was convinced he could hear it.

By 1:10 PM, the storm intensified, bringing a sudden, bitter chill into the stone building.

The library had no heat, and the cold seeped through the walls quickly.

Siya wrapped her arms around herself.

Goosebumps broke out across her bare forearms beneath her light blue, short-sleeved dress.

Her shoulders trembled slightly.

Rehansh didn't ask.

He stood up, grabbed his heavy black jacket from the back of his chair, and stepped behind her.

Without a word, he draped it over her shoulders.

His hands lingered for a second, his knuckles resting warm against her collarbone as he adjusted the fabric.

Siya went completely still.

"I returned this to you."

"You returned it yesterday," he said, his voice quiet, hovering right above her ear. "Now I'm giving it back."

"What's the difference?"

"Yesterday you needed it because you were soaked. Today you need it because you're cold. Different reason."

The jacket enveloped her in immediate warmth, rich with his scent—clean, expensive, with a subtle note of sandalwood.

The sleeves draped past her hands.

She pulled the lapels tight around her neck without thinking, and his eyes dropped instantly to her small fingers swallowed by his cuffs.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He didn't reply.

He stood looking down at her—sitting there wrapped in his clothes, her hair slightly tousled, bathed in the amber glow of the desk lamp.

Something shifted in his expression, growing softer, yet infinitely more intense.

"You know what they'll say outside, don't you?" his voice dropped to a low raspy whisper as he leaned down, resting his forearms on the edge of her table. "When they find out we were locked in here together for two hours?"

Her pulse spiked.

"What?"

"They'll say something happened. Eisha will post another video. Kabir will lose his mind. The Dean will summon us again."

"We didn't do anything wrong," she breathed.

"I know," he murmured, leaning closer still. "But they're going to say it anyway."

His gaze dropped to her lips, held there for a long beat, then flicked back to her eyes.

"So if they're going to talk..." he whispered, his breath warm against her skin, "...shouldn't we give them something worth talking about?"

Siya's eyes widened.

Her throat went dry.

"What?"

Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand.

He moved inches at a time, offering her every chance to pull back.

His fingers hovered just beside her face, reaching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

An inch away.

She felt the heat radiating from his skin.

She smelled the dark, intoxicating scent of his jacket surrounding her.

His eyes were dark, entirely focused on her mouth.

Her lips parted slightly.

She didn't move away.

She couldn't.

His thumb brushed the breath of air half an inch from her cheek—

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

Fists slammed violently against the heavy oak doors.

"Siya! Rehansh! Are you in there?! Mr. Das locked it by mistake! Open up!"

Mehek's voice echoed wildly through the quiet room, followed by Advik shouting from the hall.

Both of them recoiled as if burned.

Rehansh pulled his hand back instantly, his chair scraping loudly across the stone floor as he stood up.

Outside, a key rattled frantically in the lock, turning with a harsh metallic _clack_.

"I am so sorry! So sorry!" Mr. Das's panicked voice carried in. "I forgot! I went for my lunch! Mehek told me students were still inside!"

The heavy door swung wide.

Harsh, clinical white light from the corridor flooded into the dim room, instantly shattering the golden bubble they had built.

Mehek rushed in, breathless, with Advik close behind.

In the hallway, two juniors lingered, their phones already raised, filming through the open doorway.

"Are you guys okay?" Mehek hurried straight to Siya, seizing her hands. "We saw Mr. Das heading toward the gate and I remembered the Dean's note! I dragged Advik straight back!"

Advik stepped into the doorway, his eyes darting from Rehansh's tense posture to Siya, who sat trembling—still wrapped tightly in Rehansh's jacket, her face flushed red, their chairs pulled dangerously close together.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Advik's face.

"Locked in for an hour, huh?" he said softly. "Must have been a very... thorough project discussion."

Rehansh stood at his full height, his face hardening instantly as his cold, regal mask snapped back into place.

He picked up his leather file without looking at anyone.

"No discussion," Rehansh said, his voice icy and controlled. "We finished. Two pages."

He walked straight past Advik and out into the corridor without looking back—his white shirt pristine, leaving the subtle trace of his cologne in the doorway.

Siya stood up slowly, clutching the oversize black jacket around her shoulders, her cheeks burning under Mehek's piercing gaze.

Mehek leaned in, her eyes wide as she stared at the designer fabric draped over Siya.

"He gave you his jacket again? On _Day Two_?"

Out in the hallway, Advik caught up with Rehansh's long stride, elbowing him lightly with a low grin.

"You were about to kiss her, weren't you?"

Rehansh kept his eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Shut up, Advik."

He didn't look back.

But the tips of his ears were burning bright red.

What neither of them saw —

The two juniors in the hallway weren't just watching.

Their phone was still recording.

Red light blinking.

Live on the college confessions page with 2.1K viewers already.

And the caption was typing itself: _JACKET GIRL DAY 2 - LOCKED LIBRARY KISS??_