Chapter 2 — First Interaction

Arjun Mehta pushed open the heavy wooden door of the literature classroom, feeling the familiar weight of anxiety settle over him. The room smelled faintly of old books and chalk dust, a comforting scent he had always associated with knowledge, though today it did little to calm his nerves. His backpack dug into his shoulder as he stepped inside, his gaze immediately drawn to the front of the room.

The new professor stood there, calm and composed, exuding an aura of quiet authority. Arjun had expected someone stiff, intimidating, the kind of teacher who demanded obedience without offering warmth. But Rayan Kapoor was different. His posture was relaxed, yet his eyes were sharp, perceptive, and impossibly intense, as if he could read everything Arjun thought before he even had a chance to process it.

“Arjun Mehta?” Rayan’s voice was calm, yet there was a subtle weight to it, a kind of expectation that made Arjun’s stomach tighten.

Arjun froze in place, his mouth dry. He swallowed, forcing out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

Rayan’s eyes didn’t leave him. There was a brief, almost imperceptible pause, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed. Arjun’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. Nobody had ever looked at him like this before—like he mattered in ways that weren’t tied to grades or performance.

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

Arjun blinked, caught off guard. Compliments like this were rare in his life. Most adults either overlooked him or treated him as if he were just another name on a roll call. But this… this was different. Personal. Honest. And strangely intimate.

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

Rayan’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile, the kind that seemed to see straight through the walls Arjun had built around himself. “Maybe some people are worth reading anyway,” he replied softly.

Arjun felt warmth creep into his chest, spreading to his hands, his toes, even his thoughts. He wanted to respond, to say something clever, something that would make Rayan see him in return, but the words tangled in his throat. He settled for a quiet, almost imperceptible nod.

The lecture began, and Arjun tried to focus, but his mind kept drifting back to those words. Each glance toward the front of the classroom made his heart flutter. He scribbled notes, though they made little sense to him. The world had shrunk to the space between him and the professor, and he felt an unfamiliar pull in his chest—something he wasn’t ready to name.

During a brief break, his phone buzzed with a message from Kia, his ever-vigilant best friend.

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

Arjun rolled his eyes and typed back quickly. Kia, stop exaggerating.

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

Arjun sighed, sliding the phone back into his pocket. Kia would never let him live this down, and he didn’t blame her. But it wasn’t exaggeration. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Rayan Kapoor had seen something in him that nobody else ever had, and that thought was both thrilling and terrifying.

By the time the class ended, Arjun walked out slowly, a strange mixture of dread and anticipation churning in his stomach. He couldn’t stop replaying Rayan’s gaze, the quiet intensity of his smile, the way he had seemed to notice every detail in Arjun’s essay.

For the first time in a long while, Arjun wondered if maybe someone could truly see him—not just the surface, not just the student everyone expected him to be, but the real Arjun hiding inside.

And as he stepped into the cool afternoon sunlight, his heart continued to beat a little faster, caught between fear, hope, and a curiosity he couldn’t quite name.

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