Avni's POV:
The quiet Abhimanyu had created wasn't one of thoughtful calm, but of stunned surprise. I could feel the ripple of unease, then whispers, spreading through the committee. He'd just suggested bending the rules, blurring lines. Bribing. He practically said bribing! My jaw ached from clenching it. He was like a wrecking ball, set on breaking the carefully built image of proper diplomacy.
"Delegates," the Chair cleared her throat, a strained politeness in her voice. "While 'incentivized persuasion' is... certainly a new idea, perhaps we should keep our focus on the official WHO guidelines." She shot us a look, clearly hoping I'd fix things.
I wanted to. I wanted to stand up and speak against his whole idea, to bring the talk back to fair rules and lasting solutions. But the words caught in my throat. He'd taken over the floor, and I was stuck with him, with Italy, with this mess.
The discussion went on, but a new feeling ran beneath it. Delegates seemed more careful, more calculating. Every time someone spoke about sharing resources or giving out vaccines, Abhimanyu would lean forward, his dark eyes like a hunter's, silently daring them to be too hopeful. He didn't speak much after his first shocking statement, but just being there was a heavy, unsettling force. He sometimes gave me a quick side glance, a faint, teasing smirk on his lips, as if challenging me to do something. I'll do something, alright. I'll get through this, and then I'll make sure our paths never cross again.
When the morning session finally ended for lunch, I was halfway out of my seat before he even moved.
"Avni," he said, his voice a low, easy drawl that bothered me. "A word, cara mia."
I stopped, turning slowly. "What is it, Abhimanyu?" My tone was sharp, formal.
He stood, stretching his impressive height, and walked towards me. "Our... showing. In there." He waved vaguely towards the committee room. "It was certainly memorable."
"Memorable for all the wrong reasons," I shot back, keeping my voice low. "You basically suggested dishonest behavior. Do you have any idea how that makes our university look? Or Italy?"
He chuckled, a rich, deep sound. "It shows that Italy is ready to do what it takes to get results. Unlike some who prefer to just read from a book." His eyes, sharp and judging, met mine. "You're good, Avni. You speak well. You're convincing. But you're too... gentle. Too innocent for the real world."
My blood boiled. "This isn't a 'game,' Abhimanyu! This is about global health! About people's lives!"
"And what do you think saves more lives, dottoressa? Pretty speeches or real action? Even if that action needs a little... 'friendly persuasion'?" He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "The world isn't clean, Avni. And pretending it is won't help anyone."
I took a deep breath, refusing to fall for his tricks. "We have different ways of doing things. Clearly. But we're co-delegates. We need to look united this afternoon. What's your actual plan? Beyond just shocking everyone."
He stood straighter, that arrogant smirk back in place. "My plan is to win. And for that, we need power. Your 'fair rules' won't change anything big. My way will." He paused, his gaze staying on me. "Perhaps, if you're not completely useless, you can find the small print in their 'guidelines' that allows for... flexibility."
Unbelievable. He wants me to find the loopholes for his dirty work. I wanted to hit him, but I squeezed my hands instead. He was trying to make me angry, to make me lose my cool. I wouldn't let him. "I will check the guidelines, as I should. But I will not betray my beliefs, or Italy's, for your... 'flexibility'."
He just smiled, a hint of something new in his eyes – amusement, yes, but also a touch of respect, even a challenge. "Excellent. I wouldn't want you to be easy to predict, principessa." He turned and walked away, leaving me burning with a mix of anger and a reluctant understanding of his strange, unsettling cleverness. He was a force, a dangerous one. But I wasn't afraid of him. I wouldn't let him win. Not this round. Not ever.
The afternoon session began with a surprising announcement. "Delegates," the Chair's voice echoed through the hall, "for our next task, we'll be doing a temporary partner exchange to help delegates work together better. Each delegate will be randomly paired with a new partner from a different country to work on a specific part of a resolution. Your original partners will also be temporarily changed."
My eyes grew wide. A partner exchange? My first thought was relief. No more Abhimanyu, at least for this task. But then a fresh wave of worry hit. Random? Who would I get? And what kind of trouble would Abhimanyu cause with a new, innocent delegate? This wasn't just a side issue; it was a new problem.
The Chair began reading out the new pairings. My name was called. "Avni Sharma, delegate of Italy, you will be paired with Rahul Mehta, delegate of India."
A wave of true relief washed over me, so strong it almost made me slump. Rahul! My best friend from medical school, a smart, calm, and completely dependable person. He was representing India in the Human Rights Committee, and we'd barely had a chance to talk since the conference started. I saw him across the room, already looking my way, a wide, comforting smile on his face. He gave me a subtle nod, and I felt a tight feeling I hadn't realized was there begin to loosen. Thank God. A moment of peace.
My gaze quickly went to Abhimanyu. He was standing near the front, arms crossed, looking completely bored as the Chair continued. Then his name was called. "Abhimanyu Raichand, delegate of Italy, you will be paired with Zara Khan, delegate of Pakistan."
A stir went through the room. Zara Khan was well-known, not just for her sharp mind, but for her flashy style and a reputation for being very flirty. She had a laugh that could be heard across any room and a way of getting attention that was almost as strong as Abhimanyu's own. I saw her out of the corner of my eye, already trying to charm him, a playful smirk on her face. Abhimanyu, for his part, gave her a slow, judging look, a faint, dangerous smile touching his lips. Oh, this is going to be interesting. Very interesting.
Rahul and I quickly found an empty table in a quieter part of the hall. "Hey, Avni!" he greeted, his smile warm and real. "Didn't think I'd get to work with you directly. This is great!"
"Tell me about it," I sighed, dropping my papers onto the table. "After dealing with... him... you're a breath of fresh air."
Rahul chuckled, already pulling out his notes. "He's certainly... intense. Heard his opening statement. Caused quite a stir."
"Understatement of the year," I muttered, but then focused. "Alright, so we're on resolution subsection 3.2, 'Strengthening International Cooperation for Vaccine Distribution in Developing Nations.' My initial thoughts are focusing on fair access and lasting systems..."
We fell into a comfortable rhythm, our ideas flowing, building on each other's points. Rahul's insights into how things work on the ground matched my bigger picture ideas. We talked things through, but it was helpful, respectful. It was how diplomacy should work. For the next hour, the tension from Abhimanyu faded, replaced by the satisfying hum of working together. We even shared a few laughs, remembering funny moments from medical school. This is what I came here for. This is good.
Abhimanyu's POV
She was like a firecracker. Small, furious, morally strict. And she was utterly captivating.
"Did you just suggest bribing WHO member states?" Her eyes had been wide with shock, but there was a hint of something else there too. Not fear. Never fear. Outrage. Disgust. Even a strange kind of respect for my boldness. Good.
The Chair, bless her heart, had tried to control me. Useless. The ideas were planted. The room was buzzing. My job here wasn't to be nice; it was to stir things up, to show these idealists how the real world operated. And to win. For Maa.
During the debate that followed, I watched Avni. She was good, no doubt. Every point she made was well-researched, perfectly delivered. She stuck to her moral high ground like glue. And yet, she was clearly struggling. She wanted to argue with me, to expose my 'unethical' stance, but the rules of the game kept her tied down, frustrated. Perfect.
When the lunch break was announced, I enjoyed her quick attempt to get away. She couldn't leave fast enough. I knew she was boiling inside.
"Our... showing. In there." I saw her flinch at my relaxed tone. She turned, her shoulders stiff.
"Memorable for all the wrong reasons," she snapped back. See? Fire. I like fire.
We traded sharp words, a dance of hidden insults and thinly veiled challenges. She called me innocent, weak. I called her too hopeful. And then she brought up principles. Principles. How old-fashioned.
"We have different ways of doing things. Clearly. But we're co-delegates. We need to look united this afternoon. What's your actual plan? Beyond just shocking everyone."
That was the turning point. She wasn't just angry; she was trying to find a way to work with me. To use my chaos, maybe, for her own goals. Or, more likely, to control it.
"My plan is to win. And for that, we need power. Your 'fair rules' won't change big things. My way will. Perhaps, if you're not completely useless, you can find the small print in their 'guidelines' that allows for... flexibility."
I saw the fight burst in her eyes, the sheer anger. She wanted to refuse, but her sense of duty, her beliefs, held her back. She would do it. She would look. And that was all I needed.
"I will check the guidelines, as I should. But I will not betray my beliefs, or Italy's, for your... 'flexibility'."
Her defiance was as exciting as her intelligence. Most people would break. Most people feared me. She didn't. She hated me, yes, she was disgusted by me, but she wasn't afraid. That made her dangerous. And it made her incredibly interesting.
"Excellent. I wouldn't want you to be easy to predict, principessa." I left her there, knowing I had given her a task she couldn't refuse, and a challenge she wouldn't back down from.
The game had begun. And the real fun was just starting.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
The afternoon session started with an announcement that almost made me roll my eyes. A partner exchange. Random pairings for "working together across delegations." What a waste of time. My first thought was annoyance at the forced change. My second was to glance at Avni. She looked surprised, a quick moment of relief before a frown settled on her face. Good. Let her see how unpredictable this 'game' can be. This might just be another chance to cause trouble, to see how she does without me, and to show my power over a new, unaware delegate. Every change in the rules was just another rule to bend.
The Chair started calling out names. I heard Avni's name, paired with some "Rahul Sharma." I didn't know the name, but I saw a rather plain-looking guy across the room give her a friendly nod. And she actually smiled back at him. A real smile. Why that smile for him, but only anger for me? A sharp, strange pain pricked at something in my chest. Jealousy. Damn it. Not just annoyance. It was pure, strong jealousy.
Why her? The thought was unsettling. I wanted control, demanded respect mixed with fear. She gave me none of that. She was moral, frustrating, everything I said I disliked. And yet, seeing her easy friendship with that 'Rahul' twisted something inside me. It wasn't about him. It was about her. Her openness, her true warmth that she freely gave to him, but kept from me. She was a challenge, yes, but this felt different. It was less about breaking her, and more about... having that easy comfort she shared. Possessive. That's what it was. But why?
Then my name was called. "Abhimanyu Singh Rathore, delegate of Italy, you will be paired with Zara Khan, delegate of Pakistan."
Zara Khan. She was already looking at me, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face, her eyes sparkling with an invitation. I gave her a short nod, not bothering to smile. Zara's too... obvious. Too easy. All show, no real challenge. And honestly, a distraction I don't need right now.
My eyes quickly went back to Avni. She and her "Rahul" were already close, leaning in, their heads almost touching as they looked at papers. A fresh wave of that strange jealousy washed over me, stronger this time. Too close. They're sitting too close. And she's laughing. That easy, uninhibited laugh that she never gives me.
A moment later, Zara, with practiced ease, moved to stand beside me. As she pointed to the committee agenda, her hand "accidentally" brushed against my arm, staying for a moment longer than needed. I barely noticed it, my focus still fixed on Avni and the way she was laughing, a real, free sound, at something Rahul had said.
"So, Abhimanyu," Zara purred, her voice low and soft, "Pakistan and Italy. A strong pair, wouldn't you say? I'm sure we can achieve... great things together." She leaned in, her perfume a little too strong, her smile a little too wide.
I gave her a short nod, pulling my arm back gently. "Indeed. Let's focus on the resolution part. I prefer getting things done quickly." She's trying too hard. Easy to guess. I opened my laptop, finding the right papers. Zara, however, seemed more interested in casual talk, her questions about my past, my hobbies, anything but the actual work. I answered with one-word replies, my eyes constantly moving to Avni's table. She and Rahul were deep in conversation, their heads still close, looking like comfortable friends. That bothered me more than Zara's constant flirting. Why does she look so comfortable with him? Why does she laugh so easily? This "partner exchange" was a distraction, but not in the way I'd thought. It was making me focus on the wrong things. Or perhaps, the right things, in a way I hadn't yet understood. I found myself clenching my jaw, a restless energy building inside me. I needed to do something. I needed to break that comfortable bubble she had created with him.