The students gathered in group near the open clearing. Everyone had their phones out, some already posting “adventure” pictures with hashtags before the hunt had even begun.

Professor Mehra, the trip coordinator, raised her whistle to her lips and gave a sharp blow.

“Alright, everyone,” she began, clapping her hands. “Before you start exploring, we have a little icebreaker. A treasure hunt. You’ll be paired in twos, you’ll get a map and some clues, and the first team to find the flag gets… bragging rights and exemption from cleaning duty tonight.”

Avneet smirked, folding her arms, sunglasses perched on her head like a crown. Perfect, she thought. These games were her element... where charm and manipulation always won.

The professor began reading names from a clipboard.

“…Avneet Kaur… and Siddharth Nigam.”

The crowd reacted instantly. A ripple of whispers, nervous laughter, even a few mock gasps. Everyone knew. The way their paths had collided recently, the drama that followed them.

Avneet’s smirk widened into something wolfish. She clapped her hands once, slow and deliberate. “Well, well,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Destiny clearly ships us.”

A few chuckles broke out. Someone muttered, “This is gonna be entertaining.”

All eyes darted to Siddharth. He stood a few feet away, jaw tight, eyes narrowing just slightly, like he was counting backward to stop himself from reacting.

After the Announcement

Teams began collecting their maps and compasses. Avneet strolled right up to Siddharth and linked her arm with his before he could step back.

“Look at us,” she whispered sweetly, leaning closer. “The power couple of this pathetic little trip.”

He unhooked his arm with measured calm. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, come on.” She tilted her head, taunting. “You can fight me all you want, but everyone’s already watching. You, me, woods, treasure hunt. The headlines write themselves.”

He glanced around, noticing the curious eyes, the smirks, the phones barely hidden at chest level recording them. His lips pressed into a thin line. He hated attention. She thrived on it.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered.

“Ugh,” she pouted. “You’re no fun.”

He gave her a look sharp enough to cut glass.

They were handed their envelope: one map, a compass, and a clue.

Avneet snatched it before Siddharth could even reach. She held it up dramatically. “Okay, partner. Rule one: I’m the captain. Rule two: don’t question rule one.”

Siddharth turned and started walking toward the trail without waiting for her.

“Hey!” She jogged after him,“You can’t just ignore the captain.”

“Then keep up,” he said flatly, not sparing her a glance.

Avneet grinned despite herself. Something about his indifference made her itch to poke harder. He didn’t chase her like the others. Didn’t flatter her. Didn’t even like her. Which meant if she could crack him, it would feel like victory.

“Fine,” she said, slipping the map into her jacket. “But when we win, remember it was because of me.”

“Or because I didn’t let you get us killed,” he countered.

And with that, they disappeared into the woods

Avneet swung her bag over her shoulder like she was strolling a fashion runway, not hiking. She walked a little ahead, map in hand.

“The clue says: ‘Where the river hums a secret tune, beneath the stone shaped like the moon.’” She twirled around dramatically. “Poetic, isn’t it?”

Siddharth barely looked up. “It means there’s a rock near the stream. Not poetry. Geography.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a buzzkill. Do you ever enjoy anything?”

“Silence,” he replied, deadpan.

Avneet barked a laugh, surprised. “Did you just crack a joke?”

He didn’t answer, just adjusted the straps of his bag and kept walking.

She jogged to catch up, purposely walking close enough that their shoulders brushed. “You know, most people would kill to be paired with me.”

“Then I’m clearly not ‘most people.’”

“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes.

The forest floor sloped downward. Avneet, too busy smirking at him, didn’t notice the uneven ground. Her foot slipped, and she let out a startled gasp.

Before she could fall, Siddharth’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist firmly and pulling her upright. The force brought her closer than either of them expected, close enough to feel his breath, close enough that her perfume wrapped around him.

Her eyes widened, then narrowed into a teasing smile. “Oh? Careful, Siddharth, people might think you are in love with me.”

He dropped her wrist. “Watch where you’re going. I don’t have time to save you every fucking time.”

She laughed softly, brushing dirt off her jeans.

Avneet held the map up, squinting. “I think it’s this way.” She pointed confidently toward the darker path.

Siddharth frowned. “The clue said river. That way.” He pointed in the opposite direction.

She tilted her head stubbornly. “You think you’re always right. Just once, try trusting me.”

“Trusting you usually leads to disaster.”

“Oh, come on,” she pressed, her smile wicked. “What’s the worst that could happen? Afraid of a little adventure?”

Siddharth sighed and followed her lead.

The forest grew quieter as they walked. The sound of their classmates faded completely. Avneet kept her chin high, pretending she wasn’t second-guessing herself.

“Congratulations,” he muttered after a while. “You’ve officially led us off the map.”

She stopped, turning with a defensive look. “We’re not lost. We’re just… exploring.”

He arched a brow. “Exploring without a map. That’s literally the definition of lost.”

Siddharth stopped walking. “We’ve been circling the same patch for fifteen minutes. Admit it... we’re lost.”

Avneet planted her hands on her hips, defence. “Okay, maybe we’re slightly misplaced.”

“Slightly misplaced?” His tone sharpened. “We don’t know where the trail is, the sun’s dropping, and we have no signal. That’s not misplaced, Avneet. That’s lost.”

She flinched, though she quickly covered it with a smirk. “Well, at least you’re not alone. Aren’t I entertaining enough?”

Siddharth gave her a flat look. “You’re infuriating.”

Her lips curved. “Better than being boring.”

A distant rumble of thunder cut through the forest. Both their heads tilted toward the sound.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Siddharth muttered.

Avneet’s grin faltered. “It… it won’t rain that hard, right?”

“Do you even know how to survive out here?” His words were sharp, but his eyes scanned her... her thin t-shirt, her sneakers not built for mud. She looked like she belonged in a glossy magazine spread, not in the wild.

“Don’t look at me like I’m helpless,” she snapped, defensive.

The drizzle began, a fine mist seeping through the canopy. Avneet shivered, hugging her arms around herself. She tried to laugh it off. “Wow. Great. Lost and wet.”

“Sit,” Siddharth ordered, pointing to a log.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’re shaking. Sit down before you fall down.”

Something in his tone made her obey without thinking. She sat on the log, hugging herself tighter.

The rain thickened, a steady rhythm against the leaves. Siddharth stood beside her, silent, scanning the trees like he was plotting the next move.

Her mascara was smudged from the rain, her hair against her cheeks, her smile nowhere in sight.

The rain had turned the forest floor into a slick mess of mud and roots. Siddharth took the lead, cutting a way through the thick underbrush. Avneet trailed close.

“Careful,” he warned sharply, pointing at the slope ahead.

Avneet rolled her eyes, even as she followed. “I’m not a child...”

The sentence cut off with a sharp crack. A root gave way under Siddharth’s boot. He stumbled, slipped, and before Avneet could react, he crashed down the slope, landing hard against a jagged rock.

“Siddharth!” Her scream cracked through the storm.

She half-slid, half-crawled down after him, knees scraping, hair plastered to her face. He lay there, clutching his leg. Blood seeped through his trousers, already staining the mud, his thigh split open where it had torn against stone. Blood seeped fast, too dark against his pale skin. His breath hissed through clenched teeth.

“Siddharth!” Avneet dropped to her knees, her hands fluttering uselessly before daring to reach for his leg.

But his hand shot up, gripping her wrist so tight it hurt.

“Don’t.”

The venom in that single word cut deeper than any blade.

Avneet’s throat tightened. “You’re bleeding. You...”

“I said don’t touch me!” He shoved her hand back, dragging himself upright against the rock. His whole body trembled from the effort, his jaw clenched hard.

“You’ll tear it worse! Stop being so stubborn and let me help...”

“You think I’m stupid?” His voice cracked with fury. “The last time I was with you, I woke up drugged, naked, and humiliated. You paraded me like a trophy for your damn bet. And now you want me to believe you care about a little blood?”

Avneet flinched as if slapped.

“I…” She couldn't form any words... “It wasn’t supposed to...” She stopped, shaking her head. No excuses. She tried again, softer... “I don’t want to see you die, Siddharth.”

For a moment, the forest went quiet except for the storm.

His chest heaved, his glare unwavering. “Save your act for someone else.” He pushed away from the rock, trying to stand, but the leg buckled instantly. His body collapsed into the mud.

Avneet’s heart ached. She reached forward, her hands hovering over him. This time, he was too weak to shove her away.

“Please…” her voice cracked, trembling like a child’s, “just this once, let me. Hate me after, curse me after... I don’t care.”

Siddharth tilted his head, meeting her gaze. Rainwater streamed down his face, mingling with blood and mud. The hatred in his eyes was still there, but so was exhaustion. So was pain.

And beneath it, Avneet thought she saw something she’d never noticed before: fear.

Her throat burned. For years, she had worn armor made of arrogance and cruelty, a shield against pity, against weakness. But right now, she wasn’t untouchable. She was just Avneet, kneeling in the dirt, begging someone who despised her to let her help him.

“You think I am that weak?” Siddharth rasped. “Letting you touch me after everything? You think you’ll win again?”

“No!” she shouted. Her voice broke, shaking. “I don’t want to win. I just… I just want us to get out of here alive.”

His hand suddenly fisted in her collar, yanking her closer until their faces were inches apart.

His voice was like thunder ripping the air. “You ruin people, Avneet. You destroy and then cry that you’re alone. Do you know what it feels like to wake up stripped of your dignity, not knowing if someone took everything from you?”

Avneet froze, her chest heaving, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes.

“That night wasn’t a prank,” he hissed. “It wasn’t a bet. It was a scar you carved into me. And you expect me to let you patch a wound which don't even matter?”

Her lips parted, trembling. The words she wanted to say... ‘nothing happened, I never really touched you’... sat heavy on her tongue. But she couldn’t. Not like this, not when he looked at her as if she was poison.

So she bit them back.

Her hand lifted slowly, gently pressing against his bleeding thigh despite his glare. “Then hate me forever. But let me stop this one scar from getting worse”

For a moment, Siddharth didn’t move. His knuckles whitened in her collar, his breathing ragged. Then, finally, his grip loosened.

Avneet exhaled, her fingers trembling as she tore a strip from her t-shirt. She pressed it against the wound, ignoring his wince.

The storm raged around them, but for the first time, neither spoke. It was not forgiveness, not even close. But it was something else- something raw, terrifying, and unfamiliar.

Siddharth stayed where he sat, mud streaked across his face, lips pale. His leg kept gushing blood despite the strip of her tshirt. He tried to push himself up, teeth gritted, but his eyes rolled for a second like he might faint.

Avneet’s stomach twisted. “No, no, no... don’t you dare collapse on me, Siddharth!” She pressed harder against the wound, panic rising in her chest. The strip was already soaked through, useless.

“Get… away,” he rasped, voice fading. “I don’t need...”

“Shut up!” Avneet snapped. Her hands trembled as she looked at him, then at the blood spilling faster than she could stop it. l

Without thinking twice, she grabbed her drenched top and yanked it over her head. Rain chilled her bare skin, leaving her in nothing but her black sports bra. She ignored the mud and the cold, ignored the way Siddharth’s hazy eyes flickered open just enough to see her.

“What the hell...” His voice was weak, broken.

“Shut. Up.” Her tone was fierce, but her hands trembled as she twisted the top, knotting it tightly into a strip. “You don’t get to die on me because you’re too stubborn to let me help.”

She leaned closer, looping the fabric around his thigh. The moment her hands pressed near the wound, Siddharth jerked, groaning through clenched teeth. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist again, but this time it wasn’t anger... it was weakness.

Avneet swallowed hard, blinking back the blur in her vision. “Just breathe. Just… breathe, Siddharth. I know you hate me, I know you’d rather bleed out than look at me, but… but I can’t let you.” Her voice broke.

She tightened the loop, pulling until the bleeding slowed. Her fingers slipped, slick with his blood, but she kept going, knotting it tight.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, barely audible.

Avneet let out a shaky laugh, though tears clung to her lashes. “Maybe.”

His eyes opened at that, hazy but searching her face. She looked away quickly before sitting back on her heels, drenched, mud-streaked, half-bare in the storm.

The rain slowed, the storm easing. Avneet crouched beside Siddharth. His breaths came shallow, his lips pale, and his eyelids drooped like they weighed a thousand pounds.

“Stay with me,” she whispered, brushing wet strands of hair from his forehead. Her voice carried an edge of command, but her eyes gave her away, she was terrified. “You hear me, Siddharth? You don’t get to close your eyes.”

His lips moved faintly, a whisper lost between groans. “Leave… me…”

Her jaw tightened. “Stop saying that. If you think I’m going to let you die here just to prove how tough you are, you’re dumber than I thought.”

She checked the wound, relieved to see the bleeding had slowed. But the blood loss was draining him fast. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his body cold under her trembling hands.

Avneet glanced around the thick forest, no voices, nothing. Just trees and silence.

Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her how long it had been since breakfast. Panic spiked... if she was feeling weak, what about him?

She bit her lip hard. “Food. I need to find food. Something.” She eased his head gently against her bag and stood, looking around. The heiress in her screamed at the thought of picking berries off the ground or searching in the mud, but the girl beside a bleeding boy didn’t hesitate.

She spotted a bush with small dark berries. Her pulse raced. Are these even edible? She hesitated. But Siddharth’s faint groan in the background made her grab them anyway.

She rushed back, cupping them in her palms. Kneeling beside him, she shook his shoulder. “Siddharth. Look at me.” His eyelids fluttered, eyes unfocused.

“You need to eat something.” She held a berry near his lips, but he turned his head weakly.

“No…”

“Yes,” she snapped, “If you don’t eat, you’re not going to last till morning.” Her hand trembled. “Please. Just… trust me for once.”

She pressed the berry to his lips. After a long moment, he let it in, chewing weakly, his jaw barely moving. She fed him another, then one herself, ignoring the sour burst on her tongue. It was bitter, but it was something.

She wiped her face roughly, muttering to herself. “Idiot. Always trying to act invincible. And now look at me... Eating berries like some jungle girl to save your life.”

Siddharth’s lips twitched faintly, almost like a ghost of a smirk. “Bossy… even now.”

Her breath caught at the sound of his voice, so soft yet mocking in that familiar way. Relief washed over her like fire. She almost laughed and cried at once.

“Shut up and eat,” she whispered, softer this time, pressing another berry to his mouth.

The drizzle finally gave way to a cold. The forest air clung damp against Avneet’s bare shoulders, her sports bra doing little to shield her from the chill. Every breath came out in shaky clouds, and she hugged her arms tightly around herself as she crouched beside Siddharth.

He stirred, letting out a low groan as he shifted against the rock. His lashes fluttered open, heavy with exhaustion, but he still noticed her shivering.

“Y-you’re cold,” he rasped, voice hoarse and weak. His hand fumbled clumsily at the buttons of his bloodied shirt.

Avneet frowned. “Don’t move.” She pressed a hand to his chest, trying to steady him.

But Siddharth shook his head faintly, “Take it. You’ll freeze.”

Her eyes widened, stung by his stubbornness. Even bleeding, even fading, he was trying to protect her

“Are you insane?” she snapped, her voice breaking. “You’ve lost half your blood and you’re worried about me? No. Keep it on. Or you will die.”

He managed a faint smirk, though his lips trembled. “For someone who pretends not to care… you argue too much.” His fingers slipped at the buttons, shaking.

Avneet grabbed his wrists, holding them still. Her hands trembled... not just from cold, but from everything bubbling inside her. “Stop it, Siddharth. Just… stop.”

His gaze lifted weakly to hers, and for a second, the silence between them was louder than the forest.

“You’ll get sick,” he whispered.

“I don’t care!” The words burst out of her, raw and trembling. Her throat tightened as she choked on them. “I don’t care if I get sick. I don’t care if I freeze. I only care about keeping you alive right now, do you get that?”

Siddharth blinked, stunned, like he hadn’t expected her voice to break that way.

Her grip on his wrists loosened, and she turned her face away, ashamed of the wetness in her eyes. “I don’t need your shirt. I just need you to stop being so… stubborn.”

He coughed, a weak sound that might have been a laugh. “Bossy… still bossy…”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze again. “Shut up and keep your damn shirt on.”

For the first time since they’d been stranded, Siddharth stopped resisting. He watched her for a moment longer, as though admiring her face... wet hair, trembling lips, fierce eyes. Then his eyes slid closed again.

Avneet sat there in silence, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to summon the fire that usually burned in her. But all she felt was cold. Cold, and the terrifying thought that for the first time in her life, someone else’s survival mattered more than her own comfort.

She glanced at him again, his shirt still clinging to his bloodied torso. And though her body shivered violently, she whispered to herself, “we’ll survive this night.”

The mist thickened into a blanket of icy damp. The forest grew deathly quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves and the drip of water from branches above. Avneet’s teeth chattered, her bare arms wrapped tightly around herself as she crouched near Siddharth.

Avneet kept glancing at him, panic curling in her gut. She couldn’t let him slip away, not here, not like this. She thought of something desperate, something she never thought she’d say aloud.

Her voice cracked in the silence. “We… we need to stay warm.”

Siddharth’s eyes barely opened, his lashes heavy. “We’ll manage.”

“No,” she said sharply, her voice trembling as much as her body. “We won’t. You’re losing blood, I’m freezing, and if we keep shivering like this, neither of us is going to last the night.”

He turned his face slightly, “What are you suggesting?”

Avneet inhaled, then forced the words out. “Body heat. It’s… the only way.”

For a moment, Siddharth just stared at her... and even in his weak, fading state, He shook his head slowly. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?” Her voice rose, desperate. “Because you hate me? Because you think I’ll use you? Siddharth, for once in your life, stop being stubborn and think.”

He clenched his jaw, his pride wavering with the undeniable logic of her words.

Avneet scooted closer, her breath uneven. “You can keep your shirt on, I don’t care. Just… don’t be an idiot.”

“Avneet,” he rasped, turning his head toward her. His tone was firm, almost pleading. “I said no.”

She wanted to scream at him. To shake him and force him to see that this wasn’t about pride, or games, or the twisted mess of their past. It was about survival.

Her voice cracked as she snapped, “You’re already half-conscious! Do you want to die out here because of your stupid ego?!”

Siddharth closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. He wanted to refuse, to push her away like always. But then he saw her shivering uncontrollably, her lips pale, her arms hugging herself like she was trying to hold her own body together.

With a groan of defeat, he muttered, “Damn it… fine.”

Avneet froze. “What?”

“Come here,” he said, voice rough but resigned. “Before I regret this.”

Her heart thudded so hard she swore he could hear it. She hesitated, then slowly slid closer until her knees brushed his. He flinched at the contact but didn’t move away.

Awkwardly, she leaned against him, pressing her trembling body into his warmth. His heartbeat, faint but steady, thudded against her ear. For the first time all day, she felt something other than cold.

Siddharth’s arms stayed stiff at his sides until another violent shiver he felt of hers, With a pained sigh, he gave in, wrapping one arm around her shoulders.

Avneet gasped softly, burying her face in his chest. “See? Not so hard.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, though his voice lacked venom.

She smiled faintly through her tears, letting herself sink into him. The forest felt less terrifying with his heartbeat under her cheek. And as sleep tugged at her, she whispered, barely audible, “Don’t leave me alone, okay?”

Siddharth stared down at her, stunned, his arm tightening around her. He didn’t know if she was bluffing, drunk on exhaustion, or speaking her truth.

But as her breathing slowed against him, he realized it didn’t matter.