Chapter 17: Double Lift Revelation
The "warm teddy bear" comment stuck in Rohan's head, playing on a loop. It wasn't malicious, he knew that. Priya was just being friendly, and Arjun was just being Arjun—proud of his world, wanting to show it off. But the ease of it all, the way he'd been lifted and commented on like an object in a display case, left a hollow, buzzing feeling in his chest. He needed to shift the balance, even if it was just a symbolic gesture.
He cleared his throat, the sound too loud in the small, humid room. "Okay, show's over. How about a real test?" He gestured to the small, metal-framed table in the corner, cluttered with protein powder tubs and a stray weight plate. "Clear that off. Arm-wrestling. You and me, Patel."
Arjun blinked, then a slow, delighted grin spread across his face. "You're joking."
"I'm not." Rohan's voice was tighter than he intended. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Or are you scared the CS senior will show you up?"
This was a language Arjun understood. Challenge. Competition. He laughed, a full, booming sound that echoed off the concrete walls. "You're on, Sharma. But don't come crying to me when your coding hand is out of commission for a week." He swiftly swept the clutter from the table with one forearm, sending a tub of powder clattering to the floor. He planted his elbow on the bare surface, his biceps flexing. "Ready to get folded?"
Priya leaned against the treadmill, arms crossed, a look of mild entertainment on her face. "Don't go too easy on him, Arj."
Rohan met Arjun's gaze, the competitive fire in the bigger man's eyes a familiar, almost comforting sight. This was their normal. This he could handle. He took his position, his slender forearm looking pale and fragile against Arjun's sun-bronzed, corded muscle. Their hands clasped. The difference was absurd.
"Go," Priya said, her voice flat.
Rohan put everything he had into it, his entire body tensing, his teeth gritted. For a single, miraculous second, he thought he felt Arjun's arm give a millimeter. A flicker of surprise crossed Arjun's face. Then, with a casual, almost bored flex, Arjun drove Rohan's hand down onto the tabletop. The impact was sharp, final, rattling the metal frame.
"Damn," Rohan muttered, shaking out his stinging hand.
"Told you," Arjun said, but he was still looking at Rohan with that flicker of surprise. "You actually had some push in you for a second there."
"Let me try," Priya said, pushing off from the treadmill.
Arjun laughed. "Oh, this I gotta see." He reset his elbow on the table. "Don't hold back, babe."
Priya took his place, her expression one of calm focus. She didn't smirk or posture. She just placed her elbow, her hand engulfing Arjun's. There was no countdown. The moment their palms met, she moved.
It wasn't a struggle. It was an execution.
Her arm became a piston. There was no gradual strain, no building pressure. With a sharp, percussive crack of muscle contracting, she slammed Arjun's fist into the table. The sound was twice as loud as when he'd beaten Rohan. The entire table jumped.
Arjun stared at his own pinned hand, his mouth slightly agape. "What the hell?" He burst out laughing, a genuine, shocked sound. "Since when?"
Priya just shrugged, a small, secret smile on her lips. "Since always. You just never asked."
The dynamic in the room had shifted, tilted entirely on its axis. Arjun, the immovable object, had been moved with contemptuous ease. He was rubbing his wrist, looking at Priya with a new, bewildered kind of admiration.
And then she turned to Rohan.
Before he could process it, she stepped forward. One arm hooked under his knees, the other around his back. He was airborne again, but this time cradded sideways against her chest, his head near her shoulder. He yelped, his arms instinctively flailing before grabbing a handful of her tank top for stability.
"Whoa, hey—!"
Arjun was still laughing. "Don't drop him!"
"Please," Priya said, her voice laced with a playful challenge. And then, with a grunt that was pure effort this time, she bent her knees and hooked her other arm under Arjun's legs as he let out a surprised shout. She straightened, her powerful back and legs straining visibly, her face a mask of concentrated power.
And she lifted him too.
Arjun dangled from her other arm, his own arms and legs hanging limp in stunned submission. He was a giant, muscular ragdoll, a look of pure, unadulterated shock on his face.
Rohan could feel the immense tension in the body he was pressed against. He could hear her breathing, deep and controlled, see the fine sheen of sweat springing up on her temples. The hum of the treadmill was gone, replaced by the raw sound of her effort. He was hyper-aware of the hard muscle of her arm under his legs, the solid wall of her chest against his side. He looked across the scant few feet of air at Arjun, who was staring back, his usual confident ease completely shattered.
They were both suspended, utterly helpless, in the unwavering grip of her strength. The world had narrowed to this: the burn in her muscles, the dizzying height, and the silent, shocking understanding passing between them in the heavy air. Priya held them there, a monument to her own power, and for a long, breathless moment, nobody said a word.