“All my life, I thought the hardest thing was winning every game. I was wrong. The hardest thing was convincing her to stay.”

         - Aaron Blackwell

“I built walls to keep him out. I never expected the one person capable of tearing them down would be the one I swore I’d never let in.”

         - Aami Das

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘜𝘴 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘠𝘰𝘶

Enemies. Teammates. Maybe… everything in between.

All she wanted was peace—quiet classes, long walks, and the kind of life that stayed out of campus drama. What she didn’t want? A basketball court heartthrob with a sharp jaw, sharper tongue, and a reputation she wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.

But fate, apparently, loves a slow burn.

From stolen water bottles to late-night project rehearsals, unexpected field visits to heated matches, their story unfolds like wildfire—messy, tender, infuriatingly magnetic.

She swore he was a flirt. He swore she was impossible.

Until one kiss changed everything. Until one fight tore it apart.

Until they realized, maybe… the real obstacle between them wasn’t pride or pasts—

It was the space they kept, and the feelings they hid.

A story of rivalry, vulnerability, and the kind of love that doesn't ask for permission.

Because when it comes to hearts like theirs—

Distance was never the problem.

He was.

Introduction:

Trophy of my Heart is more than just a tale of romance—it's a slow dance between pride and vulnerability, between two hearts that collide, burn, and somehow still find their way to each other. Set against the backdrop of a lively college campus, this story brings together two polar opposites: a fiery, independent girl determined to guard her heart, and a charming, infuriating boy who seems to enjoy pushing every one of her buttons.

From their sharp-tongued arguments to the soft moments neither of them admits aloud, their relationship grows with each stolen glance, each sarcastic remark, and every unexpected moment of tenderness. The title itself reflects how, in the end, the biggest barrier between them wasn’t time, place, or circumstance—it was each other, their fears, their ego, and the emotions they refused to name.

Why You Should Read It:

Because we’ve all had that one person—who got under our skin, who made our heart race for all the wrong (and right) reasons, who taught us that love can come from chaos.

This book is a rollercoaster of emotion—equal parts funny, frustrating, aching, and warm. It captures the bittersweet essence of first love and the ache of falling for someone when you least expect it. The banter is addictive, the chemistry undeniable, and the emotional depth quietly overwhelming.

Whether you’ve ever loved someone who challenged you or lost someone who once felt like home— Trophy of my Heart is the kind of story that will leave you thinking about your own heart, long after you’ve turned the last page.

Stay tune with the story to know more about Aaron and Aami...

University of Edinburgh – Autumn Semester

Aaron’s Pov

It was the first day of lectures when I saw her. Not just saw—witnessed her like an anomaly in my curated world of control and chaos. She was walking across the courtyard with a book tucked under her arm, eyes on the cobbled path like the world around she didn’t exist. That day, everything else blurred into the background. Even the air felt different—like it waited with bated breath, whispering there, that's her.

I didn’t know her name yet. But I knew one thing—I needed to.

Campus Café

Author’s Pov

Aami Das sipped her coffee, distractedly watching the students pass by the window. Her best friend Mira Patel nudged her with a sly grin.

Mira: “Okay, tell me you saw him. The Aaron Blackwell. That man is sin in sneakers.”

Aami: “Isn’t he the one who got into a fight during the basketball finals? And the same guy who ghosted a professor’s daughter?”

Mira: “Details, details! He’s complicated, not evil. Also, rich. Like castles-in-the-Highlands rich. I read on some forum that his family owns a vineyard, a tech company, and a falcon.”

Aami: “I don’t need this drama. I came here to study, not fall into a dark YA novel.”

Mira: “Too late. He looked at you.”

That Look

Aaron’s POV

I caught her watching me today. Just a flicker, a half-second glance before she pulled her attention back to her friend. But that was enough. I’ve been patient, watching from the periphery, gathering pieces of her life—her classes, her habits, the way she doodles in her notebook when she’s bored.

I don’t care that she’s avoiding me. That just makes the chase more… thrilling. She doesn't know it yet, but she’s already Mine.

The Old College Library – Late Afternoon

Aaron’s POV

The sky outside is a watercolor of soft golds and cool blues, filtering through the arched windows of the library. Aami was seated alone at one of the long oak tables, hunched over a pile of notes and highlighted journal articles. There’s a focused little wrinkle between her brows that I want to smooth out with my thumb.

Aami’s best friend, Mira Patel, is nowhere in sight—probably off swooning over her latest crush or cornering some poor French exchange student into a spontaneous picnic date.

I take that as my chance.

I approach, confidence bleeding from every step, my messenger bag slung over one shoulder like I’m about to audition for the role of “charming rogue with a dark secret.”

Me :(that’s me, trying to be cool): “Hey… so… do you believe in love at first citation or should I walk by with another reference?”

She doesn’t even look up.

Her pen scratches across the page.

Silence.

Then finally… She looks up.

Those eyes. God, those eyes.

Aami(cool as ice): “…Excuse me?”

Me:(internally panicking but smiling like a cocky idiot): “I, uh—I mean… like, bibliographic chemistry… no, I mean—like citation—like source—”

She tilted her head slightly, expression unreadable, like she is trying to decide if I’ve just suffered a mild stroke or if this is some obscure joke.

Aami: “Are you okay?”

Me: (awkward chuckle, running a hand through my hair): “Yeah, totally. Just… thought you might need help. Or a laugh. Or… both.”

Aami: “Well, I’m studying. And no, I don’t need help. Or confusion.”

She returned to her paper. Dismissed.

I stand there, wounded ego bleeding out slowly, then turn on my heel and leave before I combust entirely from secondhand embarrassment.

As I walk away, I hear she mutter under her breath:

Aami: “Playboys and pickup lines. Seriously. This campus is cursed.”

And just like that, she has shoved me into the same box as every guy who’s ever tried to flirt their way into a girl's attention.

But I’m not every guy.

I’m Aaron Blackwell.

And this? This is far from over.

University of Edinburgh – Indoor Basketball Court, Evening

The court is alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking and balls bouncing, but my game? Completely off today.

I fumble a pass.

Miss a shot.

Trip over my own feet.

Liam—my best friend since we were kids and now co-captain of the team—catches the rebound I just missed and calls out:

Liam (grinning like a menace):“You good, Romeo? Or are you still thinking about your library Shakespearean crash-and-burn?”

The others burst out laughing.

Kai, our flashy point guard with a permanent smirk: “Man got academically humbled. That girl didn’t even blink.”

Theo, the quiet, sharp-shooter type who rarely speaks but when he does, it's brutal: “I think she actually looked through him. Like he was air.”

I groan and hurl the ball at the wall, running a hand through my hair, breath coming in sharp.

Me (muttering):“Alright, alright. I get it. It was bad.”

Liam:“Nah, bro. It wasn’t just bad. It was tragic. I haven’t seen you stammer since Coach caught you sneaking whisky into freshman camp.”

Kai (mocking voice): “Do you believe in love at first citation…”

He does a dramatic faint, catching himself on Theo’s shoulder.

Me:“I swear to God, I will bench all of you.”

Theo (deadpan):“Too bad you can’t bench your own feelings.”

Cue another round of cackling from the entire court.

I grab the ball again, dribble furiously, then dunk hard enough to make the rim rattle. Frustration burns in my chest—not just from the teasing, but because they’re right.

I can’t stop thinking about her, Aami Das.

That calm, collected look she gave me like I was some... random guy with a crush. Which, okay, maybe I was in that moment.

But she doesn't know me.

Not yet.

Me (to himself, low):“She thinks I’m just another flirt. That’s the problem.”

Liam slings an arm over my shoulder, still grinning.

Liam:“So what’s the plan then, Mr. Heartthrob? Gonna write her a thesis on why you deserve a second chance?”

Me (smirking finally):“Nope. I’m gonna show her.”

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Mira’s favorite coffee place on campus – “Brewtique”

Author’s Pov

Mira is sitting with her signature matcha, tapping on her phone and waiting for her order when Liam and Kai casually stroll up. She eyes them warily — she knows of them,infamous for their antics, but this is a first.

Mira (eyeing them): “Uh… can I help you?”

Liam (with his most disarming smile): “You must be Mira. We’re friends of Aaron.”

Mira: “The Aaron who couldn’t complete one sentence without choking on his own awkwardness?”

Kai (wheezing): “Yup. That one. Legendary moment. But hey—we’re not here to talk about his spectacular downfall.”

Liam (sliding two glossy basketball match tickets on the table): “We’re playing the finals tomorrow. Big game. Think of it as a cultural exchange—you’re international students, right? Nothing screams local uni spirit like a basketball match.”

Mira (raising an eyebrow): “Why are you inviting us?”

Kai (grinning): “Because we’ve seen him mope like a kicked puppy for a week, and frankly, it’s depressing.”

Liam (shrugging): “You don’t have to do anything. Just show up. Cheer. Or don’t. Just… maybe give him a chance to exist in your line of sight again.”

Mira: “We’re not coming for him.”

Kai: “Of course not.”

(Not hiding his smirk at all)

They leave the tickets and vanish just as Mira’s drink is called.

Later that evening, Mira tosses one of the tickets on Aami’s desk.

Mira: “Want to go to a basketball match tomorrow?”

Aami (without looking up): “You know I don’t like loud, crowded—”

Mira (interrupting): “Come on. I’ve been trying to drag you into something social for weeks. This isn’t about that guy. It’s about yelling at sweaty men from the stands. Therapeutic.”

Aami sighed, then glance at the ticket.

Front row. Finals.

Curiosity tugs at her, though she’d never admit it.

Next day – Basketball practice, right before the final match

Authors pov:

Aaron (wiping sweat off his brow): “Man, that layup felt off. I’m not in it today.”

Kai (grinning): “You will be once you see who’s showing up.”

Aaron (frowning): “What do you mean?”

Liam: “Nothing. Just saying… might be worth styling your hair for once. Maybe even shave.”

Aaron (suspicious): “What did you two idiots do?”

Kai: “Relax, Romeo. Just… look sharp, alright? You never know who’s watching.”

They jog off before Aaron can grill them further, leaving him confused, slightly annoyed, and very intrigued.

Edinburgh Uni Arena – Basketball Finals Night

Author’s pov

The crowd is roaring, excitement buzzing through the stands like static. Their team is warming up. Every move is sharp, but Liam and Kai keep sneaking glances at the front row.

Kai (muttering): “She’s not here. Bro... what if Mira changed her mind?”

Liam (half-hearted chuckle): “She wouldn’t. Right? …Right?”

Aaron (catching their looks): “Guys, seriously, what’s going on?”

Liam (fake innocence): “Nothing. Just… pre-game butterflies.”

Aaron: “I hate butterflies. Talk.”

But before they can answer—

Aami walked in.

Soft campus hoodie, her hair up, Mira beside her with popcorn and an innocent smile. The second Aami’s foot hits the court floor, Liam gasps and elbows Aaron so hard he nearly drops the ball.

Liam: “Look sharp, Romeo. Your muse has arrived.”

Aaron turn.

See her.

Eyes wide. Heart? Punching his ribs like it’s trying to make an escape.

He want to run straight to her. Throw the ball into orbit. Hug her. Anything.

But the ref blows the whistle. The match is starting.

Kai (grinning): “You better win now, bro. She’s in the splash zone.”

Match Begins

Aaron’s POV

I am on fire.

Every move—polished. Every pass—flawless. The crowd is screaming my name.

But during every free throw, every timeout, my eyes flicker back to Aami.

Her? She is just existing, watching silently, confused and trying to understand why on Earth the alleged playboy looks like he’s playing for your soul.

Halftime Break

Authors pov

The buzzer echoes. Everyone's heading to the benches. Players collapsing into chairs, gulping down water, sweat everywhere.

Then—

Aaron walk away from his bench.

Liam (whisper-shouting): “Bro, what the hell—get back!”

Kai (panicked): “Oh god, oh god, he’s really doing it—”

Aami watch as he stride toward her row. She  turn her head, heart picking up.

Mira (to Aami, halfway into the popcorn): “Is he—coming here?”

Aami:  “No way. Maybe someone’s behind us—”

Aaron reach her row. Doesn’t even glance past her.

Instead, he slides into the empty seat right beside Aami, all muscle and adrenaline, takes her favorite water bottle like it’s his, unscrews it and drinks with slow, exaggerated calm.

Aami (eyes wide): “What… are you doing?”

Aaron (softly, low): “Your water tastes better. Must be the magic of your presence.”

Crowd reaction? Literal gasps. Giggles. Whispers exploding.

Aami sits frozen. A statue.

Mira chokes on her popcorn. She leans over.

Mira: “Okay, okay, I may have been tricked. I didn't know this was a whole rom-com ambush.”

Aami (muttering): “I’m going to kill someone. Probably all of them.”

Aaron leans closer, still with that breathless post-match glow.

Aaron: “You came for me.”

Aami (snapping out of it): “I came because Mira dragged me here.”

Aaron (grinning like he just won the World Cup): “Still counts.”

He stands, tosses Aami a wink, and walks off with her bottle.

Kai (watching from the bench): “He stole her bottle. He’s officially unhinged.”

Liam: “She’s going to kill us.”

.

After the game – Final buzzer

The match ends in a win. The crowd erupts.

Aaron turns instantly—searching.

But the seat? Empty.

She’d already left.

Aaron (to Liam and Kai): “She was gone.”

Liam (winces): “Yeah… about that…”

After the Match – Mira & Aami, Dorm

Aami’s pov

Mira practically skipped down the hallway, eyes sparkling with drama-high. I could feel the smug energy radiating off her.

Mira: “Okay. I’ll say it—you so have main character energy right now.”

Me (deadpan): “No. What I have is a stolen water bottle, a headache, and a confirmed stalker.”

Mira collapsed onto my bed like a Victorian maiden.

“I mean... c’mon, he walked through a crowd just to drink your water. That’s not playboy behavior, that’s 'love interest in a K-drama' behavior.”

Me (gritting teeth): “Love interest? Mira, he’s a rich, arrogant heartthrob. He probably hits on every girl like that.”

Mira (dramatically counting fingers): “Okay, let’s count, shall we?

One: He looked like a kicked puppy when he couldn’t find you after the match.

Two: He straight-up stole your bottle like it was the last horcrux.

Three: He didn’t even look at anyone else the entire game.

Four: He came to sit next to you. During halftime. That’s sacred basketball time.”

Aami (muttering): “It was probably an ego stunt.”

Mira (raising a brow): “Girl. You’re in denial. And it’s cute.”

Meanwhile – Basketball Court, Locker Room

Aaron’s POV

I threw my towel aside and leaned against the wall, staring at Aami’s now-empty seat like it might explain itself.

Liam: “She left before the final buzzer.”

Kai (quietly): “Hey... don’t freak out, but... we might’ve... encouraged Mira to bring her.”

I turned slowly.

Me: “You what?”

Liam (hands up): “It wasn’t like that! We just gave her the tickets. Figured it’d help.”

Kai: “We didn’t say it was from you! Mira had no clue what it meant!”

I closed my eyes. Breathed. Disappointment coiled low in my stomach—not at them, but at myself. I thought she'd come... for me. And she had, sort of—but under a different impression.

Still. She came. She saw.

She didn’t run away right away.

That was something.

And my Darling left her favorite bottle with me. The one with the tiny sticker on the cap.

I twisted it in my hand and smiled to myself.

If nothing else, this is Mine now.

Next Day – University Grounds

I didn’t return the bottle.

Nope.

I held it like a trophy. Casually. Strutting across the campus, through courtyards and lunch tables like it was part of my outfit. My teammates were cackling in the background, but I didn’t care.

Let everyone wonder. Let Her wonder.

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