Riyan's POV
The day should have ended when I walked out of AIIMS at 5:40 pm, but the morning refused to leave me alone.
My apartment was quiet when I entered. It always was.
A stillness I preferred. No visitors. No noise. No unnecessary conversations.
The lights came on automatically, washing the living room in a pale gold glow.
I set my file down on the glass table, loosened the cuffs of my shirt, and pressed two fingers to the bridge of my nose.
I had back-to-back lectures, three meetings, one emergency consult from neurosurgery, and a pile of research papers waiting like hungry animals on my desk.
None of that stayed in my mind.
Only one memory kept circling like it owned the place.
Water.
Cold.
Unexpected.
And a pair of startled brown eyes staring at me like I was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen.
Aarav.
Yes, I remembered the name.
It had slipped through the attendance sheet later.
Normally I don't bother learning names until the first weekly viva.
Faces blur, names blur, excuses blur even more.
But this one didn't.
His expression stayed burned into the front of my mind.
The accident wasn't the reason.
I've dealt with far worse disruptions from first-year students. Half of them are clumsy, most are nervous, and all of them think the world will end if they make a mistake.
No, this was something else
There was something in the way he froze.
Something in the way he tried to apologise before he even understood what he had done.
Something in the way his throat tightened as if he expected me to shout
I don't shout.
I don't waste energy.
I simply observe.
And today, I observed him.
I walked into my kitchen, poured a glass of water, and leaned against the counter, letting the cool surface calm the heat in my head.
I should not have reacted at all.
I didn't. Outwardly.
But the moment the water hit me, I felt… something shift. Like a small crack in a wall I didn't know I had built.
Ridiculous.
I took a sip.
My mind replayed the exact second I turned around.
His hands trembling.
His face too open, too honest for someone I had known for less than a minute.
A memory should not feel this vivid hours later.
I put the glass down harder than I intended.
This was absurd. He was a student. One among hundreds. Just another first-year who would either rise or break under pressure. There was no logic in remembering him.
Yet the details refused to fade.
His voice. Soft and thin.
His eyes. Not brave, but desperate to not disappoint.
His posture. Ready to shrink if I raised my tone even slightly.
There is a particular type of student I can read in one look.
The ones who crack under pressure.
The ones who tremble but don't quit.
The ones who carry too much fear for someone their age.
Aarav… felt like he belonged to the third category.
I walked to my study, switched on the desk lamp, and opened my laptop, intending to grade assignments.
Instead, I found myself opening the student intake spreadsheet.
Scrolling.
Looking.
For his name
Unnecessary.
Irrational.
A waste of my time.
I still did it
Aarav Sharma.
NEET Rank: 45
Top 50
A high achiever then.
Someone who wasn't supposed to be afraid of spilling a little water.
Someone who wasn't supposed to tremble under a stare.
Interesting.
Students who rise fast often fall dramatically.
But something about him didn't feel like the falling type.
Something about him made me think he was holding himself together with tightly wrapped strings.
Those strings tend to snap.
I shut the laptop, but the silence of the room felt heavier now.
The memory of his wide eyes flickered again.
He was still in my head.
Annoying
But… not unpleasant
Even more annoying
I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes for a moment.
He would be in my class again tomorrow.
And the day after.
And the entire first semester.
I didn't know why the thought made something settle in my chest.
No reason to analyze it.
Not yet.
But I knew one thing clearly.
I would be watching him tomorrow.
Even if he didn't look up once.
Even if he tried to disappear into the second row again.
Some students draw attention without trying.
Some leave a mark without meaning to.
Aarav had done both in under five seconds.
And I wasn't sure whether that irritated me…
or intrigued me.