"He looked at her like she was the verdict he had been waiting for his entire life."
Venue: east campus corridor
Time: 9:43 am
Three weeks passed.
Campus life rolled on - midterms, project deadlines, student events. Aradhya remained her usual self: buzzing between labs and the library, laughing too loudly with friends, humming as she scribbled equations on scraps of paper. Aarav saw her often - from the far end of a corridor, across the quad, through glass walls of the library. Always at a distance. Always with that same quiet pull.
And then, it happened again.
Aradhya was late. She came tearing down the corridor, clutching a folder stuffed with papers, hair slipping loose from a half-tied bun. Her oversized hoodie flapped with each stride, sneakers squeaking against the floor.
Just as she rounded the corner- thud.
She crashed into a broad frame with enough force to nearly send her folder flying. Her eyes went wide when she looked up.
Law firm pal, the name of whom she didn't knew or never bothered asking.
Again.
For a split second, silence stretched between them. Then, in a flurry of panic, aradhya began bowing-once, twice, thrice-muttering apologies like a stuck tape recorder.
"I-I'm so sorry! Again! Oh god, this is the third time, isn't it?!" She bowed once more, clutching her folder to her chest. "Please don't sue me for assault, I swear I'm harmless-mostly-"
Her rambling earned a few chuckles from students passing by, but Aarav didn't move, didn't laugh. He just watched her, the same steady, unreadable look in his eyes.
Aradhya, growing more flustered under the silence, bowed again. "I promise I'm not targeting you. Really. I mean, if I was, I'd at least... uh... plan it better?" Her voice trailed into a nervous giggle.
For the first time, Aarav's lips twitched-almost, almost into a smile. He caught it quickly, burying it under his usual composure.
"Careful," he said finally, his voice calm, even. "Next time, you might actually fall."
The words were simple, almost bland, but from him they sounded strangely pointed. Like he hadn't meant just physically.
Atdhya blinked at him, caught off guard. Then, cheeks still red, she bobbed her head once more before dashing past toward her classroom, muttering something about "science waits for no one."
Aarav remained where he was, hands in his pockets, gaze following her retreating figure.
Three times.
Three collisions.
And each one seemed less like chance, and more like inevitability.
The same afternoon, aradhya was sprawled on the campus garden bench with a sandwich in hand, her notes forgotten on her lap. She was mid-bite when her eyes caught a familiar figure across the walkway-Aarav, sharp in his crisp shirt, book in hand, walking with that calm, unhurried stride that made him look untouchable.
Before aradhya could even consider ducking behind her notes, another girl-one of the polished, glossy-haired types who always seemed too composed-deliberately veered into his path. She bumped into him with a theatrical "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" her hand lingering on his arm longer than necessary.
Aradhya froze, mid-chew.
Aarav's book tilted slightly, but his eyes didn't soften. Instead, his expression sharpened. His words, cool and edged, carried across the garden:
"If you're going to pretend to stumble, at least commit to it. Otherwise, it just looks cheap."
The girl's face flushed crimson. She stammered something under her breath before storming away, heels clicking furiously against the pavement.
Aarav adjusted his book as if nothing had happened, resuming his stride with that same effortless calm.
Aradhya's sandwich suddenly felt stuck in her throat. Her palms went clammy. That... was brutal. Cold. Sharp.
And instantly, her mind replayed every time she had crashed into him-her flailing arms, her messy apologies, her ridiculous bowing like a malfunctioning robot.
Her stomach dropped.
He must think I'm just like her. Faking every bump. Pathetic.
Aradhya quickly shoved the rest of her sandwich back into the wrapper and pressed her notes to her chest like a shield.
"Nope. Nope. Never again," she whispered to herself, darting up from the bench. "From now on, if I see him, I'm taking a U-turn. Crawl through a bush. Climb a tree. Anything. I am NOT crossing his path again."
But deep down, as she scurried away, her heart thudded harder than she wanted to admit-because she wasn't just scared of his sharp words.
She was scared of how much it mattered to her what he thought.
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The house that always felt the cocoon of love formed by two souls deep in worshiping the ground other walked. Today felt uncharacteristically cold, edged, sharp,uninhabitable.
As if the love itself was illusion, because today they stood against each other, both running low on patience.
One being worn down by work, another worn down by waiting for her partner to notice the glaring valley forming between them.
He couldn't pay much attention to her distress while handling the cutting edge of world. And if he knows he was unbothered with a belief that she would wait.
Forgetting every rubber band have a certain level of elasticity before snapping and breaking apart.
Forgetting it was always them against the world not each other.
"I am not asking for money I need your time, i need you present here with us.not 24/7 but just a few hours"
"I am working to stable us both dammit! You've to understand that. I go out, I grind myself to dust just to manage this what's taking shape between us"
"I appreciate that, but please try to understand how it feels when the person you wait for barely acknowledge you. When they come back home late while you wait whole day for a call"
"I am busy!! So what. It ain't like I am out there going out of my way behind your back"
"Do I know ?"
And just like that , the tears streamed down face, the haze cleared as her conflicted trust slammed into his chest knocking the window out of his system. And the next was actual slamming of door and revving of car, angry engine hitting the road with a ruckless ugly screech....
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Aarav slid into his usual spot in the library lounge later that evening, his book opening with practiced precision. But his friends, Rohit and Kunal, weren't reading. They'd been at the garden too.
"Man, you're ruthless," Rohit said with a low chuckle. "That girl's face... I thought she'd burst into tears right there."
Aarav didn't look up. "She was being obvious. I don't like theatrics."
Kunal leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Obvious, huh? Then what about the other one?"
That made Aarav's eyes flick upward, sharp. "What do you mean?"
"The clumsy science girl," Kunal said with exaggerated innocence, drumming his fingers on the table. "She's bumped into you, what, three times now? Always flailing, apologizing like her life depends on it. You never snapped at her."
Rohit chimed in, grinning. "Yeah, in fact... you actually pause when she does it. Like you don't know what to do with yourself. Today, though? That other girl barely brushed you and you cut her to pieces."
Aarav's jaw ticked, but he kept his gaze steady on the page. "That's different."
"Different how?" Kunal pressed, eyebrows lifting.
Aarav turned a page slowly, deliberately. His voice was calm, but lower than usual. "Because she's not pretending. She's just... chaotic. Unaware. There's nothing calculated about it."
Rohit exchanged a knowing look with Kunal, then grinned. "So you noticed."
Aarav's silence said enough. His fingers lingered a little too long on the corner of the page before he turned it.
Kunal chuckled. "Careful, Rai . Keep looking at her like that, and soon enough, we won't be the only ones noticing."
Aarav shut his book with quiet finality, standing to leave. "Focus on your own distractions."
But the way his steps slowed, just slightly, before exiting the lounge gave his friends all the confirmation they needed.
And they shared a smirk.
Because for once, the unshakable Aarav Raichand was shaken-and it wasn't by brilliance in law or power games, but by a clumsy girl with ink stains on her fingers and laughter too loud for the library.