Knew you were special
from the moment I saw
you

Aahana:17
Reyansh:18

A A H A N A

"I was blessed."

Wait.

My breath catches.

Was that… directed at me?

The words hit my ears so softly, so unexpectedly, I almost think I imagined them.

But no—I didn’t.

It takes me a second too long to realize they were meant for me.

I stay still, my back to him, spine locked straight, heart climbing up my throat. He’s right behind me. I don’t even need to look to know it.

The girl in front of me hears it too. Her entire posture shifts. I watch her bouquet dip behind her back like she can hide it. Like it’ll make a damn difference.

“What?” she snaps, her voice cracking under the weight of hope and denial.

But he’s not talking to her.

He says it again, slower this time. Like he wants to make sure we all hear it.

“I was blessed. The second her eyes landed on me.”

His voice is low and calm, the kind that seeps under your skin and stays there.

My pulse stumbles.

Then it takes off—fast, wild, loud.

Twice.

Twice in one day.

It’s stupid. It’s unfair.

Twice now, he’s made my heart race like it’s trying to escape.

And if he says one more thing like that, I swear—I might actually do something stupid. Like fall for him.

“You think you’re special?”
My mind scoffs, sharp and cruel.
“He’s a serial heartbreaker. He probably says that to every girl.”

I swallow hard.

“But—”

“But what? Who says stuff like that to a new girl on her first day? He’s a full-time playboy with a part-time god complex.”

Okay. Now I’m convinced.

Whatever weird fluttering was happening in my chest?

Gone. Crushed. Dead.

Buried under a pile of red flags.

Thud.

The bouquet hits the ground near my feet, the sound loud enough to make me flinch. Not fall—thrown.

I look up.

She’s still standing there, my deskmate, tears streaking down her face, mascara smudged and hands clenched like she’s holding back the urge to slap one or both of us.

Her eyes find mine.

Bloodshot. Broken. Burning.

She glares like I just stabbed her in the back and smiled about it.

Then, without a word, she turns around and walks away.

And now it’s just me.

Standing here.

With guilt clawing its way up my throat, and his presence burning through my back.

Even though I didn’t ask for any of this. Even though I didn’t say a word. Even though I wanted to stay invisible.

I stare at the flowers on the ground, trying to make sense of what just happened—and what the hell I’m supposed to do now.

I take a deep breath and turn around, ready to face him after the mess he just made.

But the second I do, he drops to one knee.

My heart stumbles so hard, it might’ve actually fallen out of my chest. Or maybe it’s fluttering. No, crashing and fluttering at the same time, if that’s even possible.

Before I can even speak, or ask what the hell he thinks he’s doing, I look down and he’s tying my shoelaces.

He’s tying my damn shoelaces.

Like it’s normal. Like we aren’t surrounded by people. Like he didn’t just say something that could’ve ripped the floor from under my feet.

His hands move slowly, carefully, fingers brushing the fabric like this moment is something delicate. Like I am.

And then—he looks up.

Still kneeling. Still right there.

And those honey-brown eyes?

They hit me all over again.

Soft. Warm. Sunlight after a storm.

He holds the stare, like he’s daring me to look away.

I don’t.

I Can’t.

Everything around us fades. The people. The noise. The chaos he left in his wake.

It’s just this.

Just him.

Just me.

And the way my heart’s flipping over itself like it wants to escape my body entirely.

And for one split second, I forget the warnings.

I forget what they said about him.

“You should be.”

I whisper before I can stop myself.

The words come out soft, but sharp. His gaze doesn’t move.

But something in it shifts.

And in that second, I know I just made the biggest mistake of my life.

He rises to his full height, six feet of calm chaos standing in front of me and I swear, the air gets thinner. He towers over my 5'6 like the universe is showing me just how small I feel right now.

My eyes drag up—past the broad chest, the sharp jaw, the lips I absolutely should not be looking at—until they land right where they always do.

His eyes.

And then he smiles.

God help me.

It’s soft.

Warm.

Real.

And so heartbreakingly beautiful that I forget what air is supposed to feel like in my lungs.

It’s devastating.

The kind of smile that ruins carefully built walls in a single look.

Everything I told myself—the rules, the boundaries, the whole I’m-not-falling-for-him promise?

Gone.

Because right now, with that stupid smile and those damn eyes?

I already know.

I’m screwed.

I turn without another word, breaking the eye contact like it burns.

And maybe it does.

My steps are fast and short. The hallway is noisy behind me, but I don’t turn around. I don’t need to because I can already feel him watching.

Finally I make it to the classroom door and bam.

My shoulder smacks into someone.

Hard.

“Sorry.” I mumble, barely glancing up, already moving toward my seat.

But then, a hand grabs mine. Firm. I’m pulled back a step, and when I turn—I see it’s a girl.

She’s tall. Flawless. The type of girl who doesn’t even try but still looks perfect. Her uniform’s a little different from the others, designer brands on every inch.

“You know who I am?” she asks.

A laugh rises in my throat.
How am I supposed to know? Is everyone a little crazy here?

“Oh! I don’t exactly remember the show I saw you in.” I say, trying my best to look confused.

“I never came in a show.” she says flatly.

“Then... a movie?”

“No.”

“Oh. So, what kind of influencer are you again? I don’t remember.”

She scowls. “I’m not an influencer.”

“Then...” I blink again, this time slower. “How the hell am I supposed to know you?”

A beat of silence.

“I’ve been here for less than twenty-four hours.” I add, in case that part wasn’t obvious. “You expect me to have flashcards with everyone’s faces on them?”

Her eyes narrow.

Great. I’ve officially pissed someone off. Five hours in, and I’m already stuck in the middle of chaos.

She doesn’t say anything else.

But she doesn’t let go either.

I stare down at her hand on my wrist. “You gonna keep holding me hostage or...?”

Finally, she lets go, her lips curling into something that’s not quite a smile.

The bell rings.

Perfect.

Finally, Five more classes left. That’s all I have to survive, and then I can lock myself in my room and forget this day.

Three periods go by in a blur. My mind keeps drifting to the empty seat next to me. She’s still not here. Is she okay? But then, how can a guy mess with someone that much? Nah, I’ll check on her after the fourth period.

The fourth flies by too, and I head straight for the girls’ washroom. But it’s empty—nothing but silence. Just as I’m about to leave, I hear voices. A group of girls. My name cuts through the chatter, sharp and clear.

“That Aahana is such a bitch. Everyone knows how much Samaira and Reyansh are in love, but she set up a trap on her very first day to manipulate Reyansh. She even ruined her proposal too.”

My blood starts to boil. I freeze, my fists clenching. Without thinking, I slip into a stall and slam the door shut, leaning against the cold wall. Anger floods me, the sting of their words only fueling the fire.

"I even heard a rumor that she's mentally unstable." one of them says with a laugh, voice dripping with mock concern.

That was it for me.

I shove the stall door open, the slam echoing off the tiled walls. The laughter dies instantly. Eyes snap to me, wide and guilty.

"Who said that?" My voice is low, too calm to be safe.

No one answers. Just awkward glances between them. Then one girl mumbles, "Nitya said that."

Their heads all turn toward her.
She stiffens as all eyes land on her, giving her so-called friends a look like they just sold her soul.

I take a step forward, and they all instinctively back off.

"Out." I say, motioning to the door.

No one moves.

I snap. "I said, everyone the hell out!"

That does it. They scatter like scared birds, heels clicking, whispers following them out.

Now it's just me and her.

I grab her collar and shove her gently but firmly toward the sinks, turning her so her back faces the mirror. I stand in front of her, just a breath away. She’s tense, barely breathing.

I dip my head slightly, lips close to her ear.

"The rumor’s true." I whisper. "I’m not just unstable. I’m a full-blown psycho. And you? You should watch that Rapunzel hair of yours, they won’t look so pretty tangled in a pair of scissors."

She flinches. Just like I knew she would.

Because the ones who talk the loudest behind your back are always the first to break when you confront them.

I straighten up, fixing my collar, calm and cool.

“Now get lost, Nitya. And next time, pick someone dumber to mess with.” I say, voice cold.

She bolts out of the washroom like her life’s on the line.

After an hour, the bell finally rings, and the school bursts into noise. Students rush out of classrooms, and I slip into the crowd, head down, the sound of my heels clicking against the floor cutting through the noise.

I step outside the school gate, scanning the busy pickup area until my eyes land on a familiar black car parked near the edge—Mr. Rana’s already here.

He steps out as I approach, giving me a polite nod and a small smile. “Good evening, Miss Aahana.”

“Good evening, Uncle.” I reply, plastering on a cheerful expression as I slip into the back seat, letting my bag drop beside me.

"Today was really nice." I begin, my voice excited, almost too much. "Everyone was so welcoming. My classmates were sweet, no one left me out, even for a second."

I keep up the fake excitement, rolling out a string of lies to make sure Mr. Rana doesn’t report anything to Dadu that would worry him. He tells Dadu everything, and I’m not about to let him hear anything less than perfect.

Mr. Rana nods, satisfied with my words, and focuses on the road. "Fool someone else, Aahana." he says suddenly, his tone knowing.

The smile drops from my face immediately, and I turn to the window, the fake excitement slipping away.

The car picks up speed, and just as I’m zoning out, something catches my eye. A flash of movement—someone riding a bike, weaving through the traffic at high speed. But it’s slow enough for me to catch a glimpse.

Just a second.

Our eyes lock. For that split second, I know exactly who he is.

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