Anaya noticed him without trying to.
He sat in the last row, by the window, where sunlight always rested gently on the desk. While others talked loudly and laughed, he stayed quiet, his eyes fixed outside—on the trees, the sky, the drifting clouds. There was something calm about him, something that made the noise around him fade.
She didn't know his name yet.
In class, the teacher asked a question. Many hands shot up, but his didn't. Still, when the teacher called on him, he answered softly—and correctly. A few students turned to look at him, surprised. He simply nodded and went back to staring out the window.
At lunch, Anaya saw him again. Sitting alone. Writing something in a notebook. He smiled to himself, as if the words were speaking only to him. She wondered what he was writing—poems, stories, or thoughts he never shared with anyone.
For a moment, their eyes met.
He looked away quickly, almost shy. Anaya felt her cheeks warm for no reason she could explain. She looked down at her food, her heart beating just a little faster.
She didn't know why, but she felt it then—a quiet curiosity, a feeling that this boy by the window would matter to her someday.
And somewhere, without knowing it, Aarav noticed her too.