Amaya was hurrying across the campus courtyard, her camera bouncing lightly against her chest. She had spotted a perfect sunlit angle of the fountain, and she simply had to capture it before the light shifted. Her mind was completely absorbed in the shot… until a familiar figure came crashing into her line of vision.

“Ah! Wait—oh no—!”

She collided with Ishaan. Not violently, just enough for her to stumble back a step and nearly drop her camera.

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted, flailing slightly as she caught herself. Her cheeks warmed instantly.

Ishaan, calm and measured as ever, stepped closer—not to intrude, but to stabilize her. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice quiet but amused. “Watch where you’re going next time.”

Amaya’s brain scrambled. “Next time…? Like there’s going to be a next time with him?!” She forced a small, nervous smile.

“I… I didn’t see you there,” she mumbled, tugging at her camera strap as if that explained everything.

Ishaan’s lips curved into a faint grin. “Clearly.” There was a spark of humor in his eyes, a subtle teasing that made Amaya’s pulse jump.

As they straightened, she couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to carry himself with quiet precision—even in these tiny, accidental moments. The way he held himself, the subtle tilt of his head, the faint crease of concentration in his brow—it was somehow… magnetic.

Amaya’s fingers itched to click her camera, but she resisted. “No… don’t be obvious… act normal,” she whispered to herself, though the flutter in her chest betrayed her composure.

Ishaan, meanwhile, observed her with that same patient curiosity he’d been harboring. “She’s… energetic. Clumsy maybe, but thoughtful. And that smile—she doesn’t even know the effect it has.”

For a few moments, they simply stood there, awkwardly close, both aware of the tiny sparks in the air yet pretending they weren’t.

Finally, Amaya cleared her throat. “I… I’ll… um… see you later?” she offered, almost as an afterthought.

Ishaan’s lips quirked upward again. “Yes… see you.” His voice was calm, steady—but there was something unspoken in it. Something that said he noticed her. Not just the collision, not just the stumble, but her—the real her.

As Amaya walked away, camera clasped to her chest, she glanced back over her shoulder. Ishaan had already returned to his path, but for some reason, she couldn’t stop smiling.

“Okay… he noticed me noticing him. That’s… something,” she thought, heart still racing. “And I think I noticed him noticing me too… wow.”

And just like that, a single, clumsy accident had sparked a connection neither of them could ignore, teasing the slow burn that was only beginning.

Ishaan walked back toward the culinary lab, but his mind wasn’t on the chopping board or the simmering sauce. It was on her—Amaya, the girl who somehow tripped into his life and made it feel lighter, more chaotic in the best possible way.

He remembered the way her hair caught the sunlight, strands falling loosely over her forehead, occasionally brushing her glasses. The little scrunch she made with her nose when she laughed quietly to herself. How her fingers gripped her camera strap—tense, almost protective, as if it were a part of her soul.

“She notices things,” he thought, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Not just the big things… the tiny, unimportant things that actually matter.”

Her backpack was slung carelessly over one shoulder, straps tangled slightly, yet she carried herself with this energetic determination that made everything she did seem intentional—even the stumbles, the accidental bumps into him, even the way she tilted her head when she focused through the lens.

He recalled the faint scent of her perfume—a mix of jasmine and something warm, maybe vanilla. It lingered just enough to remind him she had been near without ever being overpowering.

And then there was her laugh. Just a short, airy thing, but it somehow made the mundane campus courtyard feel… like music.

“I don’t know how she does it… makes everything seem… brighter. Makes me notice her noticing me… without trying.”

He shook his head slightly, almost as if to clear the thoughts, but they didn’t go away. They lingered, light and persistent, fluttering at the edges of his focus like the wings of a tiny bird.

“She’s… interesting. Different. And I think… I want to see more. Every little thing. Every little detail. Even the stumbles and the awkward smiles.”

For the first time, Ishaan realized that sometimes, noticing someone—truly noticing them—was more powerful than words. And as he returned to his kitchen tasks, he felt a strange, warm anticipation for the next accidental encounter.

“Maybe she doesn’t even know how much she’s already… got me paying attention,” he thought, and the faintest blush crept up his neck, unseen but unmistakable.

Rohan nudged Ishaan as they carried the knives to the prep table. “Dude… you’re acting weird today. Smiling at nothing again? You’re not sick, are you?”

Ishaan smirked faintly, brushing it off. “Nothing,” he said, though his tone carried a strange, teasing lilt—“Just… noticing interesting angles.”

Rohan raised an eyebrow, grinning like he knew a secret. “Interesting angles, huh? Since when do you notice angles? Or photographers? Or… girls, for that matter?”

Ishaan’s lips twitched. “Some angles… are hard to ignore. Especially when someone thinks they can hide behind a camera.”

Rohan elbowed him playfully. “Ahhh… so that’s flirting, right? Since when do you say stuff like that? Ishaan Roy… talking like a flirt?”

Ishaan rolled his eyes, trying to act unimpressed. “I’m… observing. That’s all.”

Rohan laughed, nudging him again. “Yeah, yeah… keep telling yourself that. But I see it. The little smiles, the glances. Dude, you’ve got it bad.”

Ishaan’s face warmed slightly, but he couldn’t deny it. “Maybe… maybe noticing someone isn’t a crime.”

Rohan grinned. “It’s not a crime… it’s just painfully obvious. And adorable.”

💞 Welcome back to the lovely bundles of sunshine! Finally, my annual exams are coming to an end, so I'm coming back to update this book again. I hope to receive feedback soon, but I don't like your silence. I want your loudness, whether rude, or polite, I need your voice. And I hope I won't have to beg for it. 💞