Siya's life in Chandipur was marked by resilience and solitude, her days consumed by nurturing the vibrant blooms of her flower shop. Abandoned at birth and haunted by the mystery of her parents' disappearance, she had grown accustomed to the whispe...
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The night was heavy with the weight of memories as I lay on the comfort mattress. The bed felt unfamiliar, and the ceiling above me seemed to close in. Exhaustion from the day's events pulled at my eyelids, but my mind refused to rest. Eventually, the struggle ceased, and I drifted into a dream that took me back to where it all began.
Raipur College, when I was 20 years old, was a place brimming with youthful energy and promise. The sprawling campus, with its lush gardens and imposing buildings, was where I first met Adhiraj Singh Rathore.
I was a transfer student, fresh from Chandipur through an orphanage as they took the responsibility of my studies since I was a bright student, overwhelmed by the size and grandeur of the place. It was on a sunny afternoon when our paths first crossed. I had been searching for the library, lost in the maze of corridors, when I stumbled upon a scene of ragging. A group of seniors, led by none other than Adhiraj, were playfully harassing a few first-years.
Adhiraj was leaning against a pillar, wearing a leather jacket, his tall frame exuding confidence and authority. His dark eyes were sharp, observing everything with a calculating intensity. He seemed to be enjoying the power he held over the newcomers, a smirk playing on his lips. I kept my head down, hoping to avoid drawing attention to myself. I focused on my books, pretending to be engrossed in them, but I could feel his gaze land on me, heavy and unyielding.
"Who's that?" Adhiraj's voice cut through the air, directed at one of his friends.
"No idea, she must be new," came the response. I didn't look up, determined to remain invisible. But I could sense him watching me, his interest piqued as I glanced behind but quickly looked ahead in nervousness, tugging locks behind my ears.
"Attitude," I heard him whisper, almost to himself but enough to hear me. There was a hint of amusement in his tone, as if he was intrigued by my apparent disregard for the scene unfolding before me. I could still feel the weight of his gaze lingering, as if he had marked me in some way.
I passed him a disgusting look, showing him the disdain I felt whenever someone tormented another person, be it ragging. His eyes widened in shock as if realization hit him hard. I continued to stare at him, creating all sorts of scenarios to justify my hatred and judgment. My mind drifted when suddenly, he held the boy by the arms and pulled him to his chest, as if trying to prove he wasn't tormenting that poor boy. This made me raise my eyebrows.
I ignored him completely and went ahead, but his piercing stare lingered on me, causing me to shoot him a glare. In return, he gave me a simple, subtle smile, igniting my anger further. Moving ahead, I reached the classrooms and attended them until afternoon. Later, as I was leaving, a person popped up in front of me, extending his hand for a handshake with a subtle smile on his lips. Overall, he was charming.
