Syntax to You

━━━━━━━━━ ⋆✦ Shreya

There should be a warning label on hackathons: May cause extreme levels of stress, sarcasm and sudden urges to strangle certain tech-royalty types.

I wasn’t exactly surprised when Vikranth and Adhitya bailed for a “quick” coffee break after two hours of debating whether we should add a budgeting graph or not. So now it was just me, my laptop, a glitchy UI, and a playlist full of revenge fantasies.

The screen showed 38:00:00—thirty-eight hours left on the countdown, but it already felt like I’d been trapped here for days.

And then, like the universe hated me, he showed up.

Ayaan.

Walking in like he owned the air we were breathing. I didn't bother to glance at him anymore.

After a second or two, I sensed someone taking a seat beside me. And I fucking knew who that someone was. And that was infuriating me even more. Like why do I always sense his presence?

For God's sake, he's my rival.

“You always look this intense, or is it just the hatred for me?”

I turn to face him only to find him smirking with a paper cup in his hand. Wonder if I can splash the coffee in his well-defined face?

“And why is it that you always find your way to me and annoy the fuck out of me?” I asked, trying not to admire his striking facial features. That's the last thing I want to do. Finding your rival suddenly attractive.

“I don’t know. It just gives me a kick, you know?” He said, throwing a wink.

“Kick?” I was flabbergasted with his choice of words. “You talk too much.”

“And yet, here you are, not walking away.”

“Oh please. This is my team's desk. You are the intruder here,” I retorted, rolling my eyes at his accusation.

“I see. Guess, I’m the intruder.”

I yawned. Not because of him, but because of how tired I was after almost ten hours of coding.

“Just get some sleep if you're tired,” Ayaan said, making himself a little too comfortable in the chair.

“Oh wait. I don't have any cash with me right now.”

“Huh?” He looked so confused. Like a lost puppy.

“I don't tend to take free advice. Especially from someone whom I hate.” I forced a taunting smile.

“You hate me?”

The way those words came out of his mouth did something to me. It sounded like… like he was hurt?

“Isn't that obvious?” I said, trying to deny my assumptions.

“I thought we were only rivals. ‘Hate’ is a strong word. It isn't supposed to be used so easily.”

There was something about the way he spoke those words. The way it kind of felt soft and hard at the same time. Like a fried ice-cream. Oh no! I'm feeling hungry now.

“I didn't know you were like that,” I said, trying to avoid his eyes as much as possible.

“Huh? Like what?”

“Not a jerk for at least one time,”

“Oh c’mon. I'm not a jerk as you describe me to be. I'm just an over-ambitious, competitive guy who doesn't like to lose. And yeah, also someone who likes to annoy the fuck out of your.”

“The last sentence validates my earlier accusation.” I said, turning to face my laptop. All I knew was, he looked annoyingly calm.

“So tell me, what's it's like to be overly obsessed with beating me?” He asked, out of the blue. I can't give in.

“And what's it like thinking everyone is obsessed with you?”

I could sense his lips curve into a small smile. He was definitely enjoying this.

“Not fun. But you make it entertaining.”

That got me off-guard. Shit. He did not just say that. I'm pretty sure my face has turned into the colour of Planet Mars. And the last thing I want is him watching me go red. And that too because of his words.

He scoffed and continued, “You’re impossible. But you're interesting when you're not biting my head off.”

I was flustered. I supposedly should get angry. But I wasn't. Why? I do not know. And for some particular reason, I could hear the thumping of my heart. Oh, am I suffering from some heart disease? Oh no. I'm just twenty-one years old. I can't die so soon.

Ayaan snapped his fingers in front of my face, seeing me lost. “In which dream world are you in, silly?”

“Umm. I was just imagining your crying face when we win this time.”

He didn't reply but just gave a smile, which I hundred percent know was a sarcastic one.

“Can't believe you’re that obsessed with me.”

My eyes widened. “Obsessed? Me? With you? In your dreams.”

“I mean, obsessed with defeating me. Silly,” he mocked.

“Douchebag,” I uttered under my breath.

“Alright then. I'll get going. Had a fun time annoying you.”

I simply made a face at him.

“And, this is for you,” he said, placing the coffee cup on the table. “You looked like you needed it.”

Saying, he simply walked off. As if it wasn't a big deal when it was. I watched him walk away and my heartbeat was a little faster than I’d like it to be.

Did he just care for me? I looked at the coffee cup for the next five minutes as if it was some newly discovered species. Then I pretended that it was no big deal and took a sip.

I sipped the coffee and grimaced. It was too sugary for me.

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