Sia Rao (19): Smart, sarcastic, a hopeless romantic who hides her insecurities behind laughter.

Aarav Malhotra (21): Cold, brilliant, secretly broken; hides a painful past behind his perfection.

Maya (Sia’s best friend): The comic relief and secret cupid.

Reyansh (Aarav’s rival): Adds tension — also likes Sai.

Sia Rao, 19, is incredibly intelligent and sharp-tongued. Deep down, she's a romantic, but she often hides her softer side behind a veil of jokes.

Aarav Malhotra, 21, presents himself as a man of great intellect, though he can be a bit cold. He's quietly dealing with some inner struggles, keeping a difficult past hidden under a polished exterior.

Then there's Maya, Sia's close friend. She's there for comic relief and secretly plays matchmaker.

Finally a rival of Aarav's, adds some tension to the story and also has his eye on SIA.

........

The college hallway was a hive of activity, a vibrant mix of hurried steps and loud laughter echoing off the plain walls.

Clutching her sketchbook tightly, Sia Rao let out a long, heavy sigh. It was another dreary Monday, another day of pretending to be okay. She was almost to her classroom when someone turned the corner far too quickly.

Wham! Her sketchbook went flying, sending charcoal sketches spiraling across the gleaming floor. Sia froze, staring at the tall figure in front of her. The guy didn't even flinch; he just stood there, composed, brushing away invisible specks of dirt from his spotless white shirt.

"Watch where you're going," he stated coolly, his deep voice carrying more authority than anger. Sia's mouth dropped open. "Excuse me? You ran into me!" The boy lifted his head, and that's when she truly saw him. He had a chiseled jaw, framed by sharp angles, and hazel eyes peering from behind thin glasses. Every girl on campus knew his face. Aarav Malhotra. The academic prodigy. The unattainable. The one who rarely smiled. He crouched, gathering her scattered drawings. "You draw?" he asked, flipping through the pages before she could stop him. Sia snatched her sketchbook back. "Do you make a habit of going through people's things, or is that just part of your 'charming' personality?" For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—perhaps amusement. Then, it disappeared. "You're Sai Rao correct? You're Professor Sharma's project partner." Her stomach lurched. "You've got to be kidding me." He wasn't. Aarav simply nodded, already turning away. "Meet me in the library after class. Don't be late." He walked away—calm, collected, and utterly infuriating. Sai glared at his retreating back. "Wonderful," she muttered. "Stuck with Mr. Cold himself. This semester just took a turn for the worse." She didn’t know it then, but that collision—that ridiculous, accidental moment—was about to change everything.

Sia rolled her eyes. Whatever. It was just a project.

Yet beneath the surface, something pulled at her—curiosity, perhaps even a sense of challenge. She wanted to discover what lay behind that emotionless facade.

As she pushed open the library door, her heart gave an unexpected flutter.

At that moment, she had no idea that this was the start of it all—a collision, a glare, and a heartbeat that wouldn’t heed reason.

---

End of Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Library Rules

The college library was unusually quiet that evening. Rows of shelves seemed to stretch on forever, filled with the scent of old paper. Sia stood at the entrance, clutching her sketchbook and already regretting her decision to come.

Why am I so nervous? It’s just a project. Not an interview with the Prime Minister.

She spotted Aarav sitting by the window — sleeves rolled up, headphones in, surrounded by books. Of course he is. He looked like he belonged there.

Sia cleared her throat. “Hey… partner.”

He didn’t look up. “You’re five minutes late.”

She blinked in surprise. “It’s literally 4:05.”

He turned a page in his notes. “Exactly.”

Her jaw dropped. “Do you time people with a stopwatch, or is that just your hobby?”

Finally, he glanced at her — those hazel eyes steady and unreadable. “I value discipline. It’s the key difference between success and mediocrity.”

Sia slumped into the chair across from him. “And I value coffee and sleep. Guess we’re from different worlds.”

Something resembling a smile tugged at the corners of his lips but vanished almost immediately.

They worked in silence for a while, only the sounds of turning pages and the soft hum of the air conditioner filling the space. Sia scribbled notes, trying not to stare at how intensely focused he appeared.

Then she noticed something odd — a small bandage on his wrist.

Without thinking, she asked softly, “Did you hurt yourself?”

Aarav’s pen paused midair. For a moment, his calm demeanor cracked — like glass glinting in sunlight.

Then, just as quickly, he replied, “It’s nothing. Let’s stay on topic.”

Sia wanted to inquire further, but his tone left little room for discussion.

So she nodded and returned to writing, though her thoughts were now elsewhere.

After an hour, she stretched her arms. “Okay, Mr. Perfectionist, I think we made some progress.”

Aarav neatly gathered the papers. “Barely. But it’ll suffice for today.”

“Wow,” she said sarcastically. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

He stood up to leave but paused for a moment. “You’re not as careless as you appear.”

She blinked in surprise. “That’s… a compliment?”

A faint smirk appeared on his face. “Maybe.”

And then he was gone — just like that, walking away with quiet confidence and no goodbyes.

SIA stared after him, heart racing with confusion. Who even talks like that?

"When she glanced down, she noticed that he had inadvertently left one of his notebooks behind. Taped to the corner of the page was a faded photo — a younger Aarav smiling alongside a woman who resembled his mother. Both of them looked genuinely happy.

For the first time, SIA found herself wondering what had caused him to become so distant.

"It wasn’t," he replied smoothly, but a subtle smirk played at the corners of his lips.

An hour passed. Gradually, they fell into a rhythm — his calm precision balancing her playful chaos. They discussed their project, debated various topics, and occasionally shared brief, awkward silences that felt heavier than words.

Sia leaned back, twirling her pen. "So, Aarav, what do you do for fun?"

He didn’t even look up. "Study."

She snorted. "I said fun, not torture."

His lips twitched. "Fun is relative."

"Do you ever laugh?" she teased. "Like, actually laugh? Or do you schedule that between study sessions too?"

He paused, his eyes locking onto hers. "Not everyone has a reason to laugh, Sia."

The atmosphere shifted. His tone wasn’t sharp; it was quiet and almost fragile. For a moment, Sia found herself at a loss for words. That’s when she noticed it — a faint bandage around his wrist.

Her voice softened. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Aarav froze. In that heartbeat, something in his calm demeanor cracked — a shadow crossed his eyes, and a flicker of pain quickly vanished.

"It’s nothing," he replied tersely. "Let’s stay on topic."

She wanted to ask more but sensed that the subject was closed given his tone. So she nodded and returned to her writing, though her thoughts kept circling back to that moment.

After another hour, Sia finally leaned back and groaned. "Okay, Mr. Perfectionist, I think we made some serious progress."

Aarav packed his notes meticulously, aligning every page perfectly. "Barely. But acceptable."

"Wow," she said with a grin. "I’ll frame that compliment."

He stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. "You’re not as careless as you seem."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Wait—was that an actual compliment this time?"

A tiny smirk tugged at his lips. "Maybe."

Before she could respond, he walked away — calm, collected, annoyingly perfect.

Sia stared after him, her heart racing more than she'd like to admit. "What’s his deal?" she whispered to herself.

As she began packing her things, she noticed a small black notebook left on the table. Curiosity got the better of her; she flipped it open and froze.

Inside was a photograph with slightly worn edges — a young Aarav beaming beside a woman who looked just like him. His mother, perhaps.

They looked… happy — so different from the boy she'd just spent the last two hours with.

Sai closed the notebook softly, a wave of guilt sweeping over her. “Who are you, Aarav Malhotra?” she murmured. “And what happened to that smile?”

End of Chapter 2

---"

Chapter 3: The Notebook

Morning sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, casting golden stripes across the desks. Sia sat at the back, feigning interest in the lecture while her mind kept drifting back to the black notebook in her bag. Aarav’s notebook. His photo. His secret.

She had hardly slept the night before, a mix of guilt and curiosity swirling within her. Why was that photo tucked away? And why did his smile in it seem so heartbreakingly different from the serious boy she knew now?

When class ended, she quickly packed her bag and scanned the corridor. There he was, by the notice board, surrounded by a few students asking him about project details. His tone was calm and polite, just distant enough to make them step back after receiving their answers.

Sia took a deep breath and approached him. “Hey, Aarav.”

He turned, a hint of surprise on his face. “Sia.”

She held out the notebook. “You left this in the library yesterday.”

His eyes flicked to it, and for a moment, she sensed something—perhaps hesitation or fear. He took it gently, their fingers brushing for a brief moment.

“Thanks.”

“That’s it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “No dramatic gasp or heartfelt thank-you?”

He smiled slightly. “I don’t do drama.”

“Clearly,” she said with a half-grin. “You’d probably be allergic to it if it were a perfume.”

He chuckled—a low, genuine sound that surprised her. It was the first time she had heard him laugh, and it was unexpectedly nice.

---

They walked together toward the campus garden, books in hand. Sia couldn’t help but ask, “So… was that photo inside of your mom?”

Aarav stopped mid-step, his grip on the notebook tightening.

After a pause, he replied quietly, “Yeah. She passed away two years ago.”

Sia’s teasing demeanor vanished instantly. “Oh. I—I’m sorry.”

He nodded once, his gaze fixed ahead. “She used to say I’d change the world one day. I guess I’ve just been trying to prove her right.”

There was something so raw in his voice—not exactly sadness, but a deep ache.

Not knowing what to say, Sia walked beside him in silence, letting the wind fill the space between them.

After a minute, she smiled softly. “She must’ve been really proud. I mean, look at you—top of the class, college star, certified perfectionist.”

He glanced at her, a faint smile appearing. “Certified troublemaker, more like.”

“Excuse me? That’s your title. I’m the sunshine of this college.”

“Sunshine?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she said proudly. “I make people smile. I even made you laugh today. Big achievement.”

He actually laughed again—a small but genuine sound. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“Persistent is my middle name,” she replied. “Actually, no, it’s not. But it should be.”

---

They found a bench under a neem tree. Aarav sat down and opened his notebook. Sia leaned in, curious. “What do you even write in that thing?”

He looked at her. “Plans. Goals. Things I want to fix.”

She tilted her head. “You write goals in a notebook?”

“Yes.”

“Like… serious ones?”

“Yes.”

She smirked. “Let me guess—‘Rule the world,’ ‘Get a 10.0 GPA,’ and ‘Avoid talking to Sia Rao.’”

He gave her a look. “You’re close.”

“Ha! I knew it.”

He closed the notebook with a soft thud. “You’re strange.”

“Thank you. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me,” she grinned.

Aarav shook his head, but his expression softened. “You talk too much.”

“And you talk too little,” she shot back. “That’s why we’re a perfect match.”

For a moment, they both froze. The words lingered in the air—playful yet charged. Sia’s cheeks flushed, and Aarav looked away, pretending to check his watch.

“Anyway,” she said quickly, “we should start working on our presentation slides soon.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

But even as they resumed discussing their project, the atmosphere between them felt different—lighter, closer.

---

Later that evening, when Sia returned to her hostel, she received a text.

📩 Aarav: Thanks again. For the notebook.

📩 Sia: No problem! You owe me coffee now.

📩 Aarav: Is that how this works?

📩 Sia: Absolutely. One coffee \= one thank-you.

📩 Aarav: Fine. Tomorrow at 5. Café Moonlight.

She stared at her screen, grinning so widely that her roommate threw a pillow at her. “Who’s making you blush like that, huh?”

Sia laughed, hugging the pillow. “Just… someone who finally texted back.”

As the night breeze drifted through the window, she lay down, staring at her phone.

She didn’t know where this was headed, but one thing was certain—every time Aarav looked at her, it felt like a new story was beginning.

---

End of Chapter 3