ATP â Abhimanyu's Total Panic
Pairing: Abhimanyu Singh (SOTY) X Reader
When St. Teresaâs undefeated king, Abhimanyu Singh, gets dethroned on the midterm biology exam by a quiet transfer student, his 6â1 Punjabi hunk ego goes into absolute meltdown. What follows is a chaotic war of microscopes, broken lab tables, and intense academic rivalries. But when prom night rolls around, Abhi realizes that the girl who stole his Rank 1 spot might have actually stolen something far more importantâhis heart.
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARAS DIDI (@mainyahaankyunhoon)! đđâš
Wishing you the absolute happiest birthday ever! This entire unhinged, chaotic, high-energy crack fic is dedicated to you! Thank you for being the sweetest, funniest person and for constantly dealing with my brainrot. I hope this story brings a huge smile to your face and makes your stomach hurt from laughing! And sorry this is not edited so forgive and forget the mistakes.!!! LYSM ... ENJOY.đđ«
And yesss, a few character dynamics are changed. Tanya is not a bishhh.
Tags/Warnings: Pure Wattpad energy, academic rivals to lovers, zero actual scientific accuracy (please do not use this fic to study for your AP Bio exam, I beg you), Punjabi hunk drama, 100% pure brainrot, sheer chaos.
Word Count: ~A lot of ATP consumed writing this.
Please don't forget to Like, Comment, and Reblog if you enjoyed the chaos! Drop a comment wishing Saras Didi a happy birthday in the comments below! đ
â Yours truly, Annie đž
(Guys call me Annie, it's my nickname)
St. Teresaâs College was not a regular educational institution. It was a glittering realm where students arrived in sleek sports cars, the cafeteria served organic avocado toast on gold leaf plates, and Dean Yogendra Vasishtâs daily outfit decisions dictated the emotional weather of the entire campus. For two straight years, the academic and social hierarchy of St. Teresaâs had remained absolute, unshakeable, and carved in stone. At the very top stood Abhimanyu Singh. Standing at an imposing six feet and one inch, he was the undisputed king of both academics and athletics. He was an effortlessly brilliant Punjabi hunk who looked like he had casually strolled off a high-fashion runway, possessed a jawline capable of slicing glass, and could explain complex cellular structures while casually bench-pressing Coach Shah. His primary academic strategy consisted of never being seen opening a textbook in public.
Then you transferred in. You were a first-year biology major with a simple, sensible goal: study hard, keep your head down, and ignore the absurdly attractive giant sitting near the window during your morning lectures. Secretly, you were down horribly, anyone with working eyes would be. Considering the fact that Abhimanyu possessed the kind of smoldering glance that could reboot a frozen laptop. Still, you kept your massive crush locked deep down in your mitochondria and focused entirely on your coursework.
Everything changed on a breezy Tuesday morning when Dean Vasisht, draped dramatically in a burgundy velvet cloak, personally pinned the midterm biology grades to the velvet bulletin board with a gold-plated thumbtack. A massive crowd immediately swarmed the glass casing. Shanaya was adjusting her lip gloss in the reflection of the glass, Tanya and Shruti were holding hands while praying for passing marks, and Rohan Nanda was leaning against a nearby marble pillar, lazily sipping an expensive iced mocha.
The crowd gasped in unified, collective horror the second the top scores were revealed. Plastered at the very top of the official printout was your name sitting comfortably in first place with a stellar ninety-nine point five percent. Directly beneath you, sitting in an unprecedented second place, was Abhimanyu Singh with ninety-eight percent. Rohan spat his iced mocha across the marble floor while Shanaya dropped her designer sunglasses in utter shock, dramatic shrieks filling the corridor.
Abhimanyu stood at the front of the crowd, staring silently at the paper. His dark eyes darted back and forth across your name, reading it once, twice, and then checking the decimal point in sheer disbelief. "Point five? Ye kaise ho sakta hai?!" Abhimanyu muttered under his breath, his deep voice dangerously low. Rohan slung an arm around Abhimanyuâs broad shoulders, grinning like a absolute demon. "Tough break, bro! Teri gaddi ka tyre puncture ho gaya. Looks like your crown just got snatched by the new kid, Abhi!" Rohan taunted with a loud laugh. Abhimanyu aggressively shoved Rohanâs arm off, his jaw clenching as he shouted, "Bakwaas mat kar, Rohan!" before whipping around to glare straight across the sunny quad.
There you were, sitting quietly under the shade of a flowering gulmohar tree with a bright yellow highlighter in one hand while calmly eating an apple, seemingly blissfully unaware that you had just caused an existential crisis in his very soul. Abhimanyu clenched his fists and declared to himself, "Ye to bas ek fluke hai. Main isko dhang se batata hoon ki St. Teresa's ka asli topper kaun hai!"
From that fateful Tuesday onward, St. Teresaâs Biology Lab was transformed from a quiet place of higher learning into an active war zone. Abhimanyuâs massive ego was bruised, battered, and begging for vindication. He made it his personal life mission to intimidate you into making a mistake, but the problem was that you refused to back down. Every single time he dropped a condescending smirk in your direction, you matched it with a razor-sharp comeback that left him fuming.
The rivalry escalated rapidly during a routine lab session on plant cell mitosis. The moment you stepped away from your workbench to grab an extra cover slip, Abhimanyu slunk over like a towering cat in a tailored blazer. He casually reached out and twisted your microscope's fine-adjustment knob completely out of focus, heavily smudging your slide with a thumbprint for good measure. When you returned and looked through the eyepiece, all you saw was a blurry pink smear. You glanced over at Abhimanyu, who was leaning back in his lab stool and twirling a pen while staring at the ceiling with an insufferably innocent smile. "Kya hua, newbie? Microscope chalana nahi aata kya? Agar help chahiye to bol de, main sikha deta hoon," he drawled out with a patronizing smirk. You didn't even blink. While Dean Vasisht was busy scolding Jeet and Dimpy with a loud "Tum dono lab ko carnival samajhte ho kya?!", you pulled a sticky note from your bag, drew a detailed picture of a potato wearing a tiny crown labeled Second Place King, and slapped it directly over Abhimanyu's optical lens. When he bent down to inspect his own sample, he was greeted by the majestic sight of the royal potato. He snapped his head toward you with eyes flashing like lightning, snarling "Tumhari itni himmat?!", but you simply offered him a sweet wave and said, "Aapki portrait hai, Singh Saab! Suit kar rahi hai aap pe!"
Their petty warfare reached a boiling point three weeks later when Coach Shah subbed for an anatomy lecture because Dean Vasisht had an urgent appointment with his personal tailor. Coach Shah blew his whistle inside the small room, deafening half the class, and shouted, "Suno sab log! Aaj rapid-fire quiz hoga! Jo jeetega use term paper mein extra marks milenge!" The room went dead silent as everyone sensed the oncoming storm. Shanaya leaned over to Tanya and whispered, "Yaar Tanya, ye dono ladne wale hain ya kiss karne wale hain? Mujhe to darr lag raha hai!" Tanya chuckled and replied, "Dono hoga Shanaya, just wait and watch!"
When the very first question about ATP production popped up on the main screen, both of your fingers slammed down onto your respective desk tablets with the force of a thunderbolt. The impact was so intense that the wooden lab table sitting between you literally split down the middle with a loud crack. Abhimanyu leapt to his feet, roaring at the top of his lungs, "MITOCHONDRIA!" while you stood up simultaneously and yelled right back at him, "POWERHOUSE OF THE CELL!"
Coach Shah stood frozen, staring at the shattered table and then at the glowing quiz board. Your name flickered at the top, having beaten Abhimanyu by a single millisecond. Abhimanyu looked at his phone, then looked across the broken wood at you. His chest was heaving, his dark hair was falling artfully over his forehead, and he looked utterly furious, fiercely competitive, and so dangerously handsome that your heart did a dramatic double-flip in your chest. You wondered why he had to look so ridiculously good whenever he was angry. As Abhimanyu stared at your triumphant grin, his frustration briefly dissolved into a sudden, dizzying spike in his heart rate, leaving him muttering under his breath, "Aisa kaise ho sakta hai yaar..." as his feelings for you began to spin completely out of control.
As the annual St. Teresa Prom Night approached, campus hysteria reached astronomical levels. Shanaya was coordinating four different high-fashion outfit changes with a team of personal stylists, while Shruti and Tanya were organizing literal auditions in the cafeteria to decide who deserved to accompany Abhimanyu Singh. Half the girls in school were ready to sacrifice their final grades just to walk in on Abhimanyu's arm.
Abhimanyu, however, walked straight past the flock of giggling girls in the corridor and cornered you right at your locker. He leaned against the metal lockers with deliberate, breathtaking grace, throwing you a smoldering smirk that made your chest tighten despite your best efforts to stay composed. He looked at you, folded his arms across his broad chest, and drawled in a mocking tone, "So, newbie... Prom night par kya plan hai? Library mein akele baith kar biology ke notes rattaa marne ka socha hai kya, ya koi bechara mil gaya jise tere sath aane ka sadma sehna padega?"
You slammed your locker door shut, turning to face him with your arms crossed right back. You glared into his deep brown eyes and snapped, "Mera jo bhi plan ho, Singh Saab, aapko usse kya lena dena? Tum apni fan following sambhalo, meri chinta karne ki koi zaroorat nahi hai. For your information, I have plenty of options!"
Abhimanyu stepped a fraction closer, lowering his voice into a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Acha? Plenty of options? Name one. Bol na, kaun hai wo dushman jiske sath tu ja rahi hai? Bolne mein darr kyun lag raha hai?" You scoffed loudly, pushing past him down the hallway while tossing back, "Main kisike bhi sath jaun, tumse permission nahi leni padegi!" As you walked away, Abhimanyu stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, scowling intensely while muttering under his breath, "Aisa kaise ho sakta hai yaar? Kiske sath ja rahi hai ye? Agar kisi aur ke sath dikhi na, toh main us ladke ko marr dunga!"
On Prom Night, St. Teresaâs grand ballroom looked like an actual Bollywood set. Chandelies glittered, silver confetti floated through the air, Dimpy was managing the DJ booth with high-tempo tracks, and Jeet was attempting to do backflips on the dance floor while Rohan cheered him on with a glass of juice. Dean Vasisht walked around in a shimmering gold brocade achkan, proudly inspecting the decor like a monarch surveying his kingdom.
Then, the main doors opened, and you walked into the ballroom.
The entire venue went dead silent in an instant. The music kept playing, but everyoneâs ability to function completely vanished. You had ditched the oversized lab coats, messy buns, and heavy frames for an absolute showstopper of a midnight-blue sequined dress that hugged your figure perfectly. Your hair cascaded down your shoulders in soft waves, and your glowing, effortless beauty left everyone breathless.
The dress looked like this:
Guys dropped their drink glasses, and even the girls couldn't take their eyes off you. Rohan stopped mid-sip and almost choked, staring at you with wide eyes before muttering, "Bhai sahabbb... ye wahi biology class wali padhaaku hai?!" Shanaya gasped out loud, adjusting her dress and murmuring in pure admiration, "Okay, full respect! That dress is actually divine!"
Across the room, Abhimanyu froze completely in the middle of a sentence with Coach Shah. His jaw literally dropped. He stood transfixed, unable to process the vision in front of him. He had always secretly admired your fierce intelligence and sharp wit, but seeing you look so breathtakingly stunning completely wiped every biology term, formula, and thought from his brain. He felt his heart hammering against his ribs like a freight train, realizing in that exact fraction of a second that he wasn't just attracted to youâhe was head over heels, irrevocably in love with you.
Before Abhimanyu could snap out of his trance and march over to claim you, RockyâAbhimanyuâs arrogant rival from the athletics departmentâstrutted up to you with a smug, predatory grin. Rocky grabbed two punch glasses from a passing server, stepped right into your personal space, and purred loudly, "Hey beautiful! Aisi khoobsurat ladki yahan akeli kyun khadi hai? Forget all these losers, come dance with a real guy."
You stepped back uncomfortably, politely waving your hand away as you said, "No thanks, Rocky. Main akeli hi theek hoon, mujhe koi dance nahi karna." But Rocky refused to take no for an answer. He reached out aggressively, grabbing your wrist far too tightly and trying to force a spiked drink into your hand while laughing condescendingly, "Arre aao na yaar! Thoda chill karo, mere sath ek drink lene mein kya problem hai?!"
Across the ballroom, Abhimanyuâs eyes went dark as thunder, his hands clenching into tight, white-knuckled fists.
Within two seconds flat, Abhimanyu moved like a hurricane across the polished dance floor. Before Rocky could even understand what was happening, Abhimanyu grabbed him by the shoulder, yanked him backward, and delivered a powerful shove that sent Rocky flying backward into the punch bowl table, smashing glass and splashing red punch everywhere.
Abhimanyu stepped directly in front of you, his towering six-foot-one frame acting as an unshakeable shield. His eyes were burning with pure rage as he snarled down at Rocky, "Tujhe samajh nahi aata kya?! Usne mana kiya na! Touch her again and I swear I will end you right here!"
Rocky scrambled to his feet, wiping punch off his jacket, and screamed back, "Tu beech mein kyun bol raha hai, Singh?! Mind your own damn business!" Rocky swung a wild, aggressive punch straight at Abhimanyuâs face, but Abhimanyu dodged it effortlessly, tackled Rocky around the waist, and crashed both of them straight through Dean Vasishtâs antique ice sculpture.
The entire ballroom erupted into complete, hilarious chaos. Coach Shah started running around the room shouting at the top of his lungs, "Oi! Disciplinary action hoga! Formal clothing mein no fighting allowed!" Rohan cheered wildly from the sidelines shouting, "Maar Abhi, maar isko!" while Jeet tried to throw a folding chair into the mix until Tanya hit Jeet over the head with her heavy designer clutch. Dimpy accidentally hit the bass boost button on the DJ console, blasting a dramatic action-movie track over the loud speakers.
Abhimanyu yanked Rocky up by his lapels, delivered a crisp, definitive right hook to his jaw, and dropped him flat on the floor. Breathing heavily with his hair artfully disheveled and his tux jacket slightly torn, Abhimanyu turned to face you. His dark eyes instantly softened with deep, overflowing concern. He reached out gently, touching your arm, and asked softly, "Tu theek hai na? Usne tujhe hurt toh nahi kiya?"
Before you could reply to his breathless question, your phone vibrated violently in your hand. You looked down at the glowing screen to see a frantic message from your mother: "Pack your bags right now! Dad's U.S. transfer was fast-tracked and our flight leaves in ommorow! Come home immediately!"
The chaos of Prom Night had finally wound down. Rocky had been escorted out of the venue by Coach Shah, Dean Vasisht was still dramatically mourning the loss of his vintage ice sculpture, and the music had softened into a gentle background hum.
You spotted Abhimanyu standing near the arched stone balcony just outside the library, away from the loud crowd gossiping about the prom night drama. His sports jersey was slightly rumpled, his hair was artfully disheveled, and he was staring out into the sky while holding a bottle of water.
You took a deep breath, smoothing down your skirt, and stepped out onto the balcony.
Abhimanyu turned his head, his dark eyes instantly locking onto yours. The usual arrogant smirk wasn't there; instead, his expression softened the moment he saw you. "Hey, newbie. You okay? Rocky didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No, I'm completely fine," you replied, walking over to stand beside him at the stone railing. You looked down at your hands before looking back up into his handsome face. "I actually came out here to say... thank you. For jumping in back there. You really didn't have to tackle him through an ice sculpture, but... I appreciate it, Abhi."
Abhimanyu let out a low, breathless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "Pagal hai kya? Of course I had to. Nobody gets to talk to you like that. Aur waise bhi, my biology rival can only be bullied by me, samjhi?"
You rolled your eyes with a soft smile, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. The chemistry between the two of you was practically electric in the cool evening air. For a fleeting second, as he looked down at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, you thought he might lean in.
Then, your phone vibrated violently in your hand.
You pulled it out, expecting a text from Shanaya, but it was a message from your mother: "Don't be late bachcha, flight's at 5"
Tears instantly filled your eyes as the shock hit you. You looked up at Abhimanyu, your voice trembling as you whispered, "Abhi... main ja rahi hoon. Papa ka transfer ho gaya hai... main humesha ke liye U.S. ja rahi hoon, right now. Main bus tumhe thanks bolne aur campus ko aakhri baar dekhne aayi thi." Without waiting for his response, you turned around and ran out in tears, heading straight for the exit.
Abhimanyu stood frozen in shock, watching you vanish into the night as his world crumbled around him. Rohan ran up to him, grabbed him by his jersey, and shook him violently, screaming, "Abe bewakoof! Khada kya dekh raha hai?! She is leaving! Bhag uske peeche! You have been madly in love with her since midterms! Go tell her!"
Abhimanyu snapped back to reality. Without wasting another second, he sprinted out the front doors of St. Teresa's, grabbed the keys to Coach Shahâs golf cart, hotwired it in record speed, and roared out of the campus gates toward the airport with Shanaya hanging onto the passenger seat shouting directions through her megaphones.
The highway leading to the airport had never witnessed a spectacle quite like this.
Coach Shahâs electric golf cart, which had a maximum recommended speed of twenty kilometers per hour, was currently roaring down the main express lane at an unbelievable eighty kilometers per hour. Abhimanyu was hunched over the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his eyes fixed on the road with laser precision. Next to him, Shanaya was clinging to the side bar for dear life, her designer sunglasses flying off into the wind as she pointed ahead like a navigator in a rally race.
"Abhi! Left le! Left le! Fast-tag lane khula hai!" Shanaya screamed over the howling wind, her high-fashion outfit completely ruined by the speed. "Agar tune meri life ka romantic climax kharab kiya na, main tujhe life time forgive nahi karungi!"
"Karan-Johar-level drama chal raha hai, Shanaya! Chup chaap baith aur navigation dekh!" Abhimanyu yelled back, slamming his foot even harder onto the accelerator. The golf cart engine was making noises that defied all known laws of physics and mechanical engineering. Sparks were literally flying from the undercarriage.
Behind them, Rohan and Jeet were following in Rohan's sleek convertible, honking wildly and blocking traffic like an official escort. Rohan leaned out of the driver's window, holding a megaphone that he had somehow stolen from the athletic department, shouting into the night air: "Rasta chhodo! St. Teresaâs ka asli hero apni heroine ko pattane ja raha hai! Side ho jao sab!"
Traffic police officers looked on in sheer bewilderment as a modified golf cart, followed by a luxury convertible full of teenagers in formal prom attire, zoomed past them. Abhimanyuâs mind was a complete blur of panic, regret, and wild realization. All those months he had spent glaring at you in the lab, all those petty arguments over microscope slides and quiz scoresâit had all been a front. He didn't hate you. He had never hated you. He was head over heels, completely, hopelessly obsessed with you. And if he didn't reach that terminal in time, he was going to lose the best thing that had ever happened to his life.
"Main tujhe jane nahi dunga," Abhimanyu muttered to himself, his voice thick with emotion, weaving the cart through a maze of yellow taxicabs. "Nahi ja sakti tu mujhe aise chhod ke!"
The golf cart came to a screeching, smoky halt directly outside Terminal 2. The tyres were literally smoking. Abhimanyu jumped out before the cart had even fully stopped moving, ignoring the screaming airport security guards who were rushing toward him with clipboards and walkie-talkies.
"Hey! You can't park that electric vehicle here!" a senior security guard shouted, blowing his whistle frantically. "Sir, step away from the cart!"
Rohan jumped out of his convertible, immediately grabbing the security officer in a bear hug while flashing a stack of VIP passes. "Uncle ji, suno! Desh ki beti U.S. ja rahi hai aur humara banda usse pyaar karta hai! Ye national emergency hai! Please samjho!"
While Rohan, Jeet, and Shanaya created an absolute circus at the main entranceâShanaya pretending to faint into Jeet's arms to distract the armed guardsâAbhimanyu sprinted through the automatic glass doors like an Olympic runner.
His hair were a wild, wind-blown mess, and sweat was dripping down his carved jawline. He looked completely unhinged, yet ridiculously handsome.
He scanned the crowded terminal frantically. Hundreds of passengers were walking around with luggage, announcements were crackling over the loudspeakers, and flight display boards were flashing endless lists of departures.
Then, over the loudspeaker, came the sentence that made Abhimanyuâs heart completely stop:
"Final boarding call for Flight 402 to New York, Gate 4B. All ticketed passengers must proceed to the gate immediately. Doors are closing."
"Gate 4B..." Abhimanyu gasped out, rubbing his chest as a sharp pang of terror shot through him. "Nahi, nahi, nahi!"
He shoved past tourists, ducked under security velvet ropes, and sprinted down the long escalator, taking four steps at a time. Security guards were shouting behind him, calling for backup, but Abhimanyu didn't care if he ended up in airport jail for the next ten years. He just needed to see your face one last time.
At Departure Gate 4B, the line of passengers had almost completely cleared.
You were standing near the glass barriers, holding your passport and boarding pass in trembling hands. Your eyes were red, swollen with tears that you had been trying so hard to hold back. Your parents stood a few feet away, looking at you with deep sympathy. Your mother stepped forward, gently wiping a tear from your cheek.
"Beta, hum jaante hain ki ye sab bohot jaldi hua," your mother said softly, offering a comforting smile. "Lekin Papa ka transfer humare hath mein nahi tha. Sab theek ho jayega."
"Mujhe pata hai, Mom," you whispered, trying to force a brave smile, though your heart felt like it was being squeezed into tiny pieces. You turned your head one last time to look back at the long terminal hallway, secretly praying for a miracle that you knew wasn't going to happen. "Bas... ek baar usse milna tha."
"Who? That Punjabi boy from your biology class?" your father asked gently, raising an eyebrow with a soft laugh. "The one who came second in midterms?"
You let out a watery laugh, nodding silently. "Haan... wahi."
"FLIGHT 402 TO NEW YORK, FINAL CALL FOR PASSENGERS," the gate agent announced into the microphone.
You took a deep breath, handed your boarding pass to the agent, and took a step toward the jet bridge corridor.
A booming, breathless voice echoed through the entire terminal, so loud and desperate that everyone in Gate 4B froze. Passengers stopped mid-step, shopkeepers stepped out of duty-free stores, and airport staff turned around in shock.
You turned around, your heart slamming against your ribs.
At the far end of the hallway, panting heavily with his hands resting on his knees, stood Abhimanyu Singh.
Abhimanyu pushed past two startled airport guards, walking straight toward Gate 4B. His breath was ragged, his jersey was practically ruined, and his eyes were locked entirely on you. The rest of the worldâthe blaring intercoms, the staring tourists, the guards slowly surrounding the areaâdidn't exist anymore.
Your parents stepped back quietly, exchanging a subtle, knowing look with each other and giving you both space.
"Abhi?" you whispered, your voice cracking as fresh tears welled up in your eyes. "Tum... tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?"
Abhimanyu stomped right up to you, stopping just inches away. He was breathing heavily, his broad chest rising and falling, and he pointed an accusing finger straight at your face.
"Tu... tu infuriating, arrogant, over-smart biology nerd!" Abhimanyu shouted, his deep voice carrying across the entire boarding area. "Tu kya samajhti hai khud ko?! Exam mein 98.5% le aayi toh bina bataye desh chhod ke chali jayegi?!"
"Me?!" you gasped, wiping a tear away and scowling back at him. "Tumne hi toh prom se pehle mera mazak uthaya tha! Mocking me about studying alone in the library!"
"Kyunki main chahta tha ki tu mere sath jaye!" Abhimanyu yelled back, throwing his hands in the air. The entire crowd at Gate 4B went dead silent. A security guard lowered his walkie-talkie mid-sentence just to watch. "Mujhe nafrat thi ki tu exam mein mujhse aage nikal gayi! Par mujhe usse zyada nafrat is baat se thi ki tu kisi aur ke sath prom par chali jaye! Mujhe midterms waale din se hi tujhse pyaar ho gaya tha jab tune mere ego ki dhajiyan uda di thi!"
You blinked, totally stunned, your breath hitching in your throat. "Tum... tumne pehle pyaar kiya?"
"Main pehle pyaar hua, aur bohot ganda wala hua!" Abhimanyu corrected fiercely, stepping even closer until there was no distance left between you. He looked down into your eyes, his gaze overflowing with pure, unfiltered devotion. "Mujhe farak nahi padta ki tu New York ja rahi hai ya kisi aur planet par. Long distance, short distance, cellular diffusion distanceâmujhe ghanta farak nahi padta. We are doing this. Main tujhe nahi chhodne waala."
A soft, watery smile broke across your face as a laugh escaped your lips. "Biology metaphors in an airport confession? That's shockingly romantic, Singh Saab."
"Bakwaas mat kar," Abhimanyu whispered softly.
Before you could say another word, Abhimanyu reached out, cupped both sides of your face gently with his hands, and pulled you into a deep, breathless, passionate kiss right under the flashing airport departure screens.
The entire terminal erupted into massive cheers and applause!
Rohan, Jeet, and Shanaya, who had finally barged through the security barriers, started screaming and celebrating wildly. Rohan was throwing paper receipts like confetti, Shanaya was clapping dramatically, and even the two airport guards who had chased Abhimanyu were now smiling and clapping along. Somewhere in the back, Coach Shah was wiping a tear, while Dean Vasishtâwho had mysteriously arrived on scene via taxiâdramatically wept into a silk handkerchief, whispering, "Such passion... my Feng Shui is restored!"
When Abhimanyu finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.
"Now go," Abhimanyu whispered with that signature smirk returning to his lips, leaning down to gently kiss your forehead. "Go crush everyone in America. But remember... next semester, main tera Rank 1 spot chheen ne aa raha hoon."
You laughed, kissing his cheek one last time before stepping toward the gate. "In your dreams, Abhi."
You turned around, waving at him and your cheering friends one last time before stepping onto the jet bridge. Abhimanyu stood there, hands in his pockets, watching you go with a heart full of hope, knowing that no distance in the world could ever come between you two.
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