Ch:1

The campus was buzzing with the familiar chaos of a new semester. Groups of friends huddled together, sharing stories of winter breaks, while the corridors echoed with laughter, footsteps, and hurried conversations. Kritika adjusted the strap of her bag and walked into her classroom, her heart light with the comfort of routine. Second semester—it didn’t feel so scary anymore

Sliding into her usual seat near the window, she pulled out her notebook. The sunlight streamed in, brushing her hair with a golden warmth. She loved that spot; it gave her a quiet view of the lawn outside, where students lazed around or rushed to classes.

“Back to the grind,” her best friend teased, nudging her as she sat down. Kritika smiled, opening her pen with a soft click. “At least this time, we know what to expect.”

Just then, the door creaked open. A tall boy walked in—calm, composed, carrying himself with an ease that instantly drew attention. He wasn’t loud or flashy; in fact, he seemed almost too quiet for the noisy class. With neatly rolled-up sleeves and a thoughtful gaze, he scanned the room before the professor gestured him forward.

“Class, this is Shivansh Oberoi,” the professor announced. “He has transferred here from Delhi. Make him feel welcome.”

The boy gave a polite nod, his expression unreadable but not cold. A few curious whispers floated around, but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, his eyes drifted across the rows of students—calm, steady, as if memorizing faces.

He took a seat beside one of the more outgoing boys in the class, who immediately struck up a conversation. Shivansh replied with short, polite answers, his tone smooth, unhurried. Nothing about him stood out as strange—he looked like just another transfer student trying to blend in.

Kritika watched absently for a moment, then turned back to her notebook. Just another new face, she thought. Little did she know, this face would soon become impossible to ignore.

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The first lecture slipped by in a blur of introductions and course outlines. Kritika scribbled neat notes, occasionally glancing at the clock as the professor droned on. Her friend whispered silly comments beside her, making her hide her laughter behind her notebook.

When the bell rang, the class dissolved into chatter. Students gathered in small groups, swapping timetables and gossip. Kritika packed her things slowly, enjoying the soft hum of campus life.

From across the room, Shivansh Oberoi remained in his seat, quiet and unreadable. He leaned back slightly, pretending to scroll through his phone, though his gaze flickered now and then toward the girl near the window—the one who smiled without trying, the one who tucked her hair behind her ear as she spoke to her friend.

Kritika didn’t notice him. She was too busy deciding whether to grab coffee from the canteen or head straight to the library.

Later, as she walked across the lawn with her friend, books hugged to her chest, she felt the gentle breeze play with her dupatta. Laughter bubbled from the group of boys sitting under the tree, music drifted faintly from someone’s speaker, and the day felt perfectly ordinary.

Except she didn’t know about the pair of eyes that followed her steps from a distance. Shivansh stayed back, blending into the crowd, his calm expression betraying nothing. But deep inside, something had already clicked.

To her, he was just a new boy in class.

To him, she was already something more.

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After debating with her friend for a while, Kritika finally gave in to her routine.

“Library first,” she said, adjusting her bag strap. “If I go to the canteen now, I’ll never get back to studying.”

Her friend groaned. “You and your books! Fine, but I’m not sitting in silence with you. Ten minutes, then coffee.”

Kritika laughed, the sound soft and light as they walked into the library. The air inside was calm, filled with the faint rustle of pages and the scent of old paper. She headed straight to her favorite corner—by the tall window, where sunlight spilled like golden threads onto the wooden desks.

She pulled out a book and settled down, tucking her hair behind her ear as her eyes skimmed the first page. For her, this was comfort—the world melting away until it was just her and the words in front of her.

Unnoticed by her, Shivansh entered quietly a few minutes later. He didn’t sit near her, didn’t make a sound. Instead, he chose a desk across the hall, angled just enough to catch her profile. From time to time, he lifted his eyes from his own book, observing the way her lips curved faintly when she read something interesting, or the way she scribbled tiny notes in her notebook’s margins.

When Kritika finally looked up, stretching a little, Shivansh dropped his gaze back to his book as if he had been reading all along. To anyone else, he looked completely calm, just another student.

By noon, she and her friend headed toward the canteen. The place was buzzing—plates clattering, students joking loudly, the smell of samosas filling the air. Kritika ordered her usual cold coffee, her friend insisting on extra fries. They found a small table near the corner, where Kritika leaned forward, chin resting on her palm, listening to her friend’s endless chatter about the latest college gossip.

And once again, somewhere in the crowd, Shivansh was there. Not too close, not too far. Blending in with ease, his calm gaze finding her almost unconsciously.

To Kritika, the day felt perfectly ordinary—books, laughter, coffee.

To Shivansh, it was the beginning of something he already knew he wouldn’t let go of.

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The final bell rang, and with it, the campus slowly began to empty. Kritika walked toward the parking lot, her bag slung over one shoulder. She unlocked her small car, sliding in with a soft sigh of relief. It had been a long first day back, and all she wanted now was the comfort of her own home.

As her car pulled out of the gates, another engine roared softly to life. A sleek black BMW glided out behind her, keeping a careful distance. Behind the wheel sat Shivansh Oberoi—calm as ever, his expression unreadable.

To anyone else, it would have looked like coincidence. To him, it was deliberate. His eyes followed the red tail lights of her car, never letting them out of sight as the city blurred past. She turned down familiar lanes, unaware of the shadow behind her, until she finally disappeared into the gates of a quiet residential house.

Shivansh parked a little away, leaning back in his seat. His gaze lingered on the house—white walls, a beautiful garden, a silence that almost felt too heavy. He stayed there for a long moment, noting everything: the way the curtains fluttered in the upstairs window, the little white cat stretching lazily on the porch, and the older maid who greeted Kritika at the door with a gentle smile.

Later that night, he found out more. Information was never difficult for him to get—one call, a quiet question, a file slipped into his hands. And what he discovered made his calm expression tighten ever so slightly.

Kritika had no parents. They had died years ago in a car accident, leaving her with only the old family house, a loyal maid, and the white small cat named "mishti" that now followed her everywhere. She lived a life that seemed ordinary on the outside—college, books, coffee shops—but behind those closed doors was just silence and emptiness.

Shivansh closed the file, fingers tapping once against the cover.

A girl with no parents. A girl who lived with a cat and a maid in a lonely house.

A girl who had no idea someone had already decided she wasn’t going to be alone anymore.

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That's all for today!!

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