Sparks Of Silence Episode 1-The storm before the spark

The first day of monsoon in the city arrived with no warning. Dark clouds had taken over the sky by noon, and by the time students began flooding into the campus for their afternoon classes, the heavens had opened up. Raindrops fell in sheets, soaking everything, smudging chalk signs on walls, making the red-bricked buildings look darker, older. The scent of wet earth lingered heavily in the air, mixing with the sharpness of freshly brewed coffee from the nearby kiosk...

Rahul Mehra

{Rahul stood under the stone archway near the main academic building, his leather jacket slick with droplets and a frown etched onto his sharply cut face. He hated rain. It reminded him of things he didn’t care to remember — and worse, it ruined his mood.}

Rahul Mehra

Huh, Another day...

Rahul Mehra

{Second year of college had started with more work, more attention, and less excitement than the first. His circle had grown quieter — people either got into relationships or found internships or simply faded into their own worlds. Rahul, however, remained untethered, floating through his days with a swagger that hadn’t dimmed but had deepened with disinterest.}

Rahul Mehra

{That was until he heard footsteps splash through puddles behind him — hurried, uneven, and far too loud.}

Rahul Mehra

Watch it...

Rahul Mehra

{He snapped, voice cool and curt.}

Isha Sharma

{The girl stopped short. She was soaked to the bone, her dark hair stuck to her face, and her white kurti clung to her body like second skin. She blinked up at him, annoyance flashing in her big brown eyes.}

Isha Sharma

Excuse you...

Isha Sharma

{She shot back, brushing wet strands from her face.}

Isha Sharma

It’s not like you own the damn entrance...

Rahul Mehra

{Rahul raised a brow, stepping slightly to the side, though not enough to let her fully pass.}

Rahul Mehra

Freshers, {he muttered under his breath}. So full of opinions....

Isha Sharma

{She scoffed}. And seniors, so full of themselves...

Rahul Mehra

{He took a moment to really look at her now — not just the soaked clothes or the irritation in her tone, but the fire behind her eyes. Most freshers avoided talking to seniors like him. She didn’t even blink.}

Rahul Mehra

(Interesting...)

Isha Sharma

{She shoved past him with zero regard, her shoulder brushing against his as she darted toward the steps.}

Rahul Mehra

You’re welcome.{he called after her, smirking.}

Isha Sharma

I didn’t say thank you. {she replied without missing a beat.}

Isha didn’t believe in love at first sight — and if anyone had told her that her very first interaction with Rahul Mehra would be soaked in rain and attitude, she might’ve laughed. Or groaned...

She hated arrogant guys. She hated being late even more. And above all, she hated when people judged her before knowing a single thing about her...

Isha Sharma

{By the time she found her class, half the seats were filled. She slipped into the middle row, trying to ignore how cold and wet her clothes were.}

Random girl

Rough start? {A girl beside her asked kindly.}

Isha Sharma

You could say that. {Isha muttered, pulling her notebook from her bag.}

The professor entered, calling for silence — and just as the last whisper died down, the door at the back creaked open. Rahul walked in, completely dry now, in a fresh shirt and that same cocky grin...

Isha Sharma

{Isha stared}

Isha Sharma

(No...)

Isha Sharma

(Fate couldn’t be this cruel...)

Rahul Mehra

{He scanned the room, eyes landing directly on her.}

Rahul Mehra

{He smirked.}

Rahul Mehra

{And then took the seat directly behind her.}