"Thank you once again, Sartaaj bhai. You didn't have to go out of your way for me," Vihaan expressed his gratitude to his older brother, Sartaaj, as they strolled along the corridor of Evermore University. Given Sartaaj's position as the university's dean, securing a job for his younger brother wasn't a particularly challenging task.

Sartaaj smirked. "No need for thanks, Vihaan. The position was vacant, and I was aware of your job search. It was an obvious choice."

Vihaan grinned, a warmth spreading through him. Though he and Sartaaj had always been close, the passage of time and distance had inevitably strained their bond. Vihaan's move to Silvoria and Sartaaj's commitment to family life had created a gap between them. It wasn't until Vihaan's return home two years ago that the healing process began, rekindling their sibling bond.

"So, I'm taking over for the teacher who, as you put it, 'aggressively quit.' Should I be scared?"

Sartaaj chuckled. "Oh, don't let that intimidate you. Mrs. Mukherjee had a bit of a meltdown. But the kids are pretty sweet, and I think you'll have a blast." He smiled and opened the door, gesturing for him to enter.

"Class, as you know, we've had a challenging time adjusting to the changes in our teaching staff. However, I'm pleased to introduce Mr. Shergil, who will be your permanent Literature professor for the rest of the semester. Now, he happens to be my brother, so I expect you to behave yourselves. Please extend to him the same respect and attention you would give me. Mr. Shergil, the floor is yours."

Sartaaj gave Vihaan a little nudge, a silent invitation to step closer, and then, with a wink, slipped out of the room.

Vihaan's heart pounded in his chest as he carefully placed his briefcase on the desk and stood behind it, his knuckles white.

"Alright, let's cut to the chase. I'll get to know you all as we work together. Looks like we're missing one person...Miss Sharma?" He pointed towards the empty seat.

"She will arrive shortly. She tends to be punctual."

"Thank you. May I ask your name?"

"Almeida. Jasmine Almeida."

He gave her a brief nod, then turned his gaze to the girl hurrying to her seat.

"The Flash herself! Or should I say, Miss Sharma?"

Her gaze swept over him, lingering on every detail. A startled gasp escaped her when his deep voice cut through the silence. Her eyes flickered from his tousled curls to his polished shoes, finally meeting his intense gaze.

"Spot on. New substitute?"

He smirked briefly. "Teacher, my name is Mr. Vihaan Shergil, a fact you would have known had you not been tardy."

"I'm habitually late, but Mrs. Mukherjee never seemed to mind."

"As I am not Mrs. Mukherjee, any lateness without a valid excuse will be counted as a late slip."

"You can't give me a late slip on your very first day here."

"I believe I have, Miss Sharma. Incidentally, you've made such a favorable first impression that you may remain fifteen minutes past the end of class," Vihaan declared with a grin, turning away from the rather intrigued student.

Impatiently tapping her foot, she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Her gaze flickered between the clock's ticking hands and the handsome teacher at the front of the room. As he shuffled through papers, she couldn't help but study him. Every stroke of his pen, every subtle crinkle of his brow, was a subject of her silent fascination. She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Is something troubling you, Miss Sharma?" Vihaan inquired, sighing.

"I'm just curious. Since you haven't collected any assignments, what might you be grading at this point?" she asked.

Vihaan let out a weary sigh, his gaze fixed on the papers in his hand. "I'm not grading," he muttered, "just highlighting."

A scoff escaped her lips. "Highlighting with a red pen?" she questioned, her tone laced with disbelief.

"Underlining," he corrected, "if you want to be that specific."

She smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. "I like being specific. It's part of my charm."

He was lost in his work, his gaze fixed on the papers spread across his desk. The rhythmic click of his pen was the only sound in the quiet room. Unaware of the approaching footsteps, he was startled by the sudden appearance of her figure. She had silently slipped out of her seat and perched herself on the edge of his desk, her presence a stark contrast to the serene atmosphere he had been immersed in.

"Is there anything specific I can assist you with, Miss Sharma?"

"Nope, just looking around. You have me stuck in her against my will for 15 minutes and that clock is going at granny's pace so I'm running out of options."

He smirked. "Seems like you're not too keen on following orders. Guess you'll have to deal with the fallout."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Against your will? That's a bit much, isn't it?"

She hissed, "And keeping me past class time because I was a few minutes late isn't it?"

He smirked, "Be on time and you won't have to make up for it in the end. It's that simple, sweetie-pie."

Her eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and something else—resentment, perhaps?—darting across her face. He couldn't quite place it. The pet name had been innocent enough, a casual endearment. But the way she was looking at him...it was as if she'd seen a side of him he hadn't meant to reveal.

"Do you call all your female students 'sweetie-pie', Mr. Shergil?" she asked, her voice soft and deliberate.

Vihaan's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "It's just a way of speaking, nothing personal."

She smiled slowly, her eyes lingering on his lips.

"I suppose we could find a more appropriate term, don't you think?"

"I believe Mr. Shergil would be more fitting." 

"I did not inquire as to what is most appropriate. I asked what other name I may address you by. Do you not possess a first name?" Her direct question left him astounded. Never had he encountered such a forthright student, nor one so devoid of shame. He, too, had never felt so unsettled in the presence of a student. She held his gaze steadfastly as he nervously averted his eyes.

He cleared his throat, his voice a bit strained. "Considering our teacher-student relationship, it would be more appropriate to maintain a professional demeanor. Please address me as Mr. Shergil, and I shall refer to you as Miss Sharma."

She nodded, a playful glint in her eyes. "Fair enough, for now." Turning towards him, she leaned forward, their fingers almost touching. Their faces were mere inches apart, the tension palpable.

Her breath, warm and vanilla-sweet, washed over him, a tantalizing promise. "I think you'll soon realize I'm no ordinary student, just as I know you're no ordinary teacher," she murmured, her voice a hushed invitation.

"I look forward to the rest of the semester. I think you will too." Her grin was a mischievous spark, igniting a fire within him. "Looks like our 15 minutes are up." As she hopped off the desk, he was left yearning for the air she had stolen."

She was a captivating enigma, her stubborn streak as sharp as her intellect. He couldn't deny the pull she exerted, a magnetic force that drew him in.

As she leaned over to gather her belongings, the curve of her denim-clad rear was momentarily exposed. His gaze darted away, a flicker of desire quickly suppressed.

She's my student. She's my student. he reminded himself, a mantra against the tide of his attraction.

"I'll see you tomorrow in class, Mr. Shergil," she said, turning to leave. Vihaan, on the brink of a frustrated outburst, was halted by her sudden pause. She turned back, her gaze lingering on her thoroughly bewildered teacher.

"Oh, and by the way, you can call me Pallavi," she added, her voice light. His eyebrows knit together at the casual familiarity.

"I know you said we should keep it professional, but I’m not one for following rules, am I?" She smirked a playful glint in her eye, before turning and leaving. Vihaan sighed, leaning back in his chair. He wondered how much more chaos this young woman was going to bring into his life.