The seminar hall echoed with the chattering of the students and teachers. Some are overenthusiastic to listen to the speaker, while some are just trying to suppress their jokes about something. Soon, more students started filling in, followed by more professors, deans, and staff. Heer took a seat near the middle, smoothing her dupatta over her lap, trying to steady her breathing. Her hands unknowingly went to her side, where the lingering touch of Harshwardhan's hands was still felt. She kept holding her waist, her hands gently placed on the area, her breath slow, and her mind still replaying the moment that she had just experienced a few minutes ago.

Why did he drag her to her side? Why did the touch seem okay? Why wasn't she able to say anything to him or protest the way he held her? Why did he protect her from that crowd? Why the hell did he rip a layer between the student and a teacher?