Chapter 1 — The New Literature Professor

Main Characters:

Arjun Mehta (Student, 19)

A quiet literature student with a love for poetry.

Lost his mother young; lives with his grandparents who have strict family values.

Smart, sensitive, emotionally guarded.

His family has a deep grudge against the teacher’s family.

Rayan Kapoor (Teacher, 28)

New English Literature professor at Arjun’s college.

Calm, composed, with a gentle but mysterious aura.

Carries emotional scars from his past — especially a broken family relationship.

His family’s history is entangled with Arjun’s grandparents’ past feud.

Supporting Characters:

Dev — Rayan’s colleague at the college (assistant professor or fellow literature teacher). Calm, observant, slightly teasing personality.

Kia — Arjun’s best friend and classmate. Outgoing, funny, and protective of Arjun.

Mr. Mehta (Grandfather) – Cold and controlling; despises the Kapoor family.

Mrs. Kapoor (Rayan’s mother) – Warm but hiding painful truths.

Story begins

Arjun Mehta hurried across the college courtyard, his backpack bouncing against his shoulder with every step. The autumn air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of old books from the library and the tang of wet leaves after a morning drizzle. He had overslept, as usual, and now he was late for the first lecture with the new literature professor. His stomach twisted with a mixture of dread and anticipation.

Great. Just great, he muttered under his breath. Another teacher to judge me before I even open my mouth.

Kia’s message buzzed in his pocket, snapping him out of his anxious thoughts.

Dude, hurry up! First class with the new prof starts in ten minutes!

Arjun groaned. “I know, I know,” he typed quickly, barely able to focus on the words. Kia was always the punctual one, the eternal organizer, while he thrived in chaos.

The lecture hall doors loomed ahead. Arjun paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady the nervous thrum in his chest. Pushing them open, he froze. The room was quiet, every student already seated, eyes forward, attention fixed on the front. And then he saw him.

Rayan Kapoor.

Tall, composed, with an air of authority that seemed to command the room without effort. His dark eyes scanned the students, calm and precise, yet intense in a way that made Arjun’s stomach twist. Rayan’s presence was magnetic—an invisible force pulling Arjun’s attention toward him.

“Arjun Mehta?” Rayan’s voice broke through the silence, smooth but commanding.

“Yes, sir,” Arjun replied, his voice smaller than he intended.

Rayan’s gaze lingered on him for a heartbeat longer than necessary. It wasn’t threatening, but it wasn’t casual either. It was as if he was seeing Arjun for the first time, peeling away layers that no one else cared to notice.

“I’ve noticed your essays,” Rayan said, stepping closer, his voice low but certain. “You have talent. But you tend to hide behind your words. There’s depth in your writing that rarely reaches the surface. I want to help you bring out your true voice.”

Arjun blinked, taken aback. Compliments like this were rare. Most teachers only noticed mistakes, spelling errors, or late submissions. Rarely, if ever, did someone acknowledge the person behind the work.

“I… I don’t write for people,” he said cautiously, unsure how much to reveal.

Rayan’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “Maybe some people are worth reading anyway,” he replied softly, almost like a secret meant just for Arjun.

Arjun felt warmth creep into his chest, spreading to his fingers, his toes, even his thoughts. His mind spun, trying to focus on the lecture notes, but he couldn’t. Every glance toward Rayan made his heart flutter.

The lecture began, and Arjun mechanically took notes, though most of them were nonsense scribbles. He was too distracted by the subtle way Rayan moved, the way he explained complex ideas with a calm patience, the way his eyes seemed to linger on Arjun’s essays.

During the short break, his phone buzzed. Kia’s message lit up the screen.

OMG, Arjun. He’s… different. Calm, intense… like he sees right through you.

Arjun rolled his eyes, typing back quickly. Kia, stop exaggerating.

Sure, whatever you say. Just… maybe be careful. Some teachers…

Arjun slid the phone into his pocket. Kia would never let him live this down, but she wasn’t wrong. There was something about Rayan Kapoor that made him feel exposed, vulnerable, yet oddly exhilarated.

By the end of the lecture, Arjun walked out into the crisp afternoon air, heart pounding. He replayed every word, every glance, every small gesture. For the first time, he wondered if maybe someone could truly see him—not just the student everyone expected him to be, but Arjun Mehta, the real one hidden beneath years of routine and caution.

A part of him wanted to ignore it, to pretend it was just admiration for his essays. But deep down, a spark had been lit, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this semester would change everything.

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