Sanvi's POV -
The moment I rise from my royal slumber, I grab my magical tablet and summon the ancient scroll called Instagram. My fingers tremble with hope as I open the message realm to see... nothing. No sign. No smoke signal. No message from my so-called boyfriend for the past twenty days. The last time we spoke was after school ended, and ever since—crickets.
And there I am, like a love-struck court jester, sending him paragraph after paragraph like a poetic warrior. Yet—nothing. Silence. Darkness.
But do I give up? NEVER. I'm going to pour my heart and soul into this kingdom of love, no matter what.
And as if my heartache wasn't enough—here come the teachers! On the very first day, they decide to turn into homework-hunting goblins, demanding all my unfinished quests (a.k.a. assignments). These tyrants show no mercy!
Seriously, how many battles am I supposed to fight? My ghost-boyfriend doesn't message me, my teachers are out for blood, and I'm only fifteen! This is not Hogwarts—it's Horrorgwarts!
Anyway, I'll do as much as I can... the rest? Destiny will decide. Let me breathe!
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Pranjal's POV-
Oh, mighty heavens! Why am I grinning like a happy monkey since I talked to her? There's just something about the way she speaks—so gently not any rudeness just smiling all the time . And yeah, she's adorable.
But I'm no fool. If I talk to her just once and vanish, she'll forget me like a side character. Nope! I'll have to remind her—again and again—that I exist, and I'm not just some random NPC in her life.
And guess what? Her sister is in my class. Jackpot! I'll charm the sister first. Win her over. Earn her trust. Then—boom! Ask for her divine elder sister's Instagram. From there, my quest shall continue!
Also, maybe I should level up my looks... New hairstyle? Maybe some enchanted hair gel? I need to look like a prince, not a potato.
Ugh, this wait till tomorrow is unbearable. I need to see her again. One more glance at her face and I'll be revived like a phoenix!
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Sanvi – The Next School Day
Oh. My. Dragon.
This place is worse than I imagined!
These girls aren't interested in studies, friendship, or magic. All they do is gossip like enchanted parrots. And yes, I know they're whispering about me. Why? Because I talked to boys. Boys, can you imagine?
They act like if a girl talks to a boy, they're immediately married, have a honeymoon booked, and a Netflix account is shared. Ridiculous. This kingdom has the worst mindset. No unity, no freedom—just judgment and drama.
And as if my day couldn't get worse—my holy, forgetful sister forgot her lunch. So now I, Lady Sanvi of the Second Floor, must deliver the royal lunch to her classroom like some medieval food courier.
Bell rings ~
Ah finally! Lunch break! The evil enchantress of the last period (a.k.a. our teacher) has ended her spellcasting.
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Sanvi enters Aashvi's classroom
Why is everyone looking at me like I just descended from a golden chariot with a unicorn behind me? Chill, people. I'm not Ariana Grande—though thank you for the energy.
Aashvi's friend shouts from across the room
"Yo! Look! Aashvi's sister is just like her—and SO cute!"
Sanvi's inner voice:
Yup. That's me. The fabulous elder sister. The bringer of lunch. The misunderstood queen of this judgmental realm.
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POV – Aashvi
Aashvi sat with her arms crossed and an annoyed pout as her classmates couldn't stop complimenting her elder sister. "She's so pretty!" "Looks just like you!" "So sweet!"
And there was Sanvi—baking in the praise like a sunflower in the sun, smiling endlessly and chatting with the younger students as if she were a royal guest in a fairytale Kingdom
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But amidst all the cheerful chaos… there was someone else.
He didn't say a word.
He didn't blink.
He was frozen—like time itself had stopped-
He was busy watching only her. Sanvi.
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Sanvi: "Alright, Aashvi. Take this. I'm going now—I'm starving."
Aashvi (grumbling): "Yeah yeah, just leave already. Ugh, why did I forget my lunch today? Never again, I swear..."
Sanvi (laughing): "Fine, I'm going, drama queen."
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POV – Just as Sanvi turned to leave the classroom…
A voice called from behind, soft but clear, like the flutter of a letter sliding under a door.
Pranjal: "Hi... remember me? We spoke yesterday."
Sanvi (turning, curious): "Yeah, I remember. What's up? Something you need?"
Pranjal (nervously): "Umm… just wanted to ask if you use Instagram. Thought maybe we could chat there, sometimes."
Sanvi (smirking): "Oh, that's all? Sure, I'll give you my ID. But where do I write it?"
Pranjal (pulling out a notebook): "I have a pen! Wait, let me tear a page—"
Sanvi (stopping him): "No need to waste paper just for that. Give me your hand—I'll write it there."
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POV –
Sanvi reached forward and gently took his left hand, pulling it a little closer to her.
A sweet smile played on her lips as she began writing her Instagram handle on his palm—each letter like a spark, each touch a whisper.
Pranjal's POV
Oh no. Dear Lord. Had I known she'd get THIS close, I would've bathed in rose water and sprayed half a bottle of perfume.
Why are my palms sweating like I've just fought a dragon? What must she be thinking? That I'm some human sponge?
Please, please, don't let me smell weird right now... not in this sacred moment...
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Sanvi (pulling back, still smiling): "Alright, it's done. I'm off now—bye!"
Pranjal (dazed): "Y-Yeah... thank you. Bye!"
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POV –
As soon as Sanvi exited the classroom, Pranjal nearly leapt into the air like a knight who just pulled Excalibur from stone.
He ran to his friends, hand outstretched like it held a royal scroll, proudly showing the glowing letters of her ID as if he'd just won the Noble Prize of Love.
For him, this wasn't just a moment—it was victory. A triumph in the first battle.
But the war had just begun.
Next step?
Win her heart.
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