The morning sun spilled lazily across the campus lawns, painting long shadows on the cobblestone paths. Aanya walked slowly, her bag slung casually over one shoulder. Her mind wandered back to the café the night before—the honesty she'd given, the relief she felt watching the senior understand her heart without protest.
And yet, even as that weight lifted, another presence filled her thoughts. Sagnik. The way he'd looked at her over breakfast, his quiet attention, the gentle way he had moved around the room—it lingered like a soft echo. She smiled faintly to herself, shaking her head at how her chest tightened just thinking about him.
Turning a corner near the library, she froze. There he was—Sagnik—standing by the entrance, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, his gaze sweeping the courtyard like he knew she'd be there.
Their eyes met.
Aanya's lips curved into the tiniest of smiles. She kept walking, slower now, letting her steps brush past his. She let her shoulder graze his arm lightly, just enough to make him flinch ever so slightly, without breaking her composure.
"…Morning," she said, her voice calm, casual, but threaded with something that made him pause.
"Morning…" His voice came low, slightly rough. He hadn't expected to see her here, and the subtle closeness of her brush against him made his heart skip.
She kept her gaze forward, but her fingers lingered on the strap of her bag a little longer than necessary, letting him feel the electricity of the moment.
Sagnik's eyes followed her, tracing the curve of her shoulder, the way she walked. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe normally.
She glanced over, meeting his eyes briefly, and smiled—the kind of smile that said, I see you. I know you're feeling it too.
"…Did you…sleep well?" His voice was uncertain, betraying the butterflies he tried so hard to hide.
Aanya chuckled softly, just enough to make the sound tickle his chest. "…Better than I expected," she said. Her hand brushed the strap of his sleeve lightly as she turned to pass him fully, just a hint of deliberate contact.
Sagnik's fingers twitched at his sides, as if reaching out on their own. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in his throat.
She kept walking, but she didn't hurry. Every step was deliberate, every glance measured. She had initiated this moment, and she knew it. And that knowledge made his chest tighten in a way he couldn't ignore.
As she disappeared around the corner toward her classroom, Sagnik exhaled slowly, leaning against the wall. His heart was racing, but he couldn't stop the smile creeping onto his face. She had done this—she had chosen to show him, without a word, that she was here, that she belonged.
And just like that, the day felt electric.