Click.

Click.

Click.

Nila stared at it blankly from her mattress on the floor while sunlight burned through the half-open window beside her.

Her phone vibrated for the seventh time.

She ignored it.

Again.

And again.

Finally, she grabbed it lazily and answered without checking the caller.

“What?”

“Are you planning to come to college this century?” her friend Divya shouted from the other side.

Nila closed her eyes.

“Attendance is a social construct.”

“You're unbelievable.”

“I know.”

Divya groaned loudly before disconnecting.

Nila threw the phone near her pillow and buried her face into the blanket again.

Outside, the world moved fast.

People had ambitions.

Dreams.

Goals.

Nila had sleep.

And maybe cigarettes.

Nothing else interested her anymore.

Not after her father left.

Not after watching her mother work herself to exhaustion every day.

Not after realizing nobody stayed forever.

People always left eventually.

So why become attached?

After another thirty minutes of doing absolutely nothing, Nila finally got up and wore the first oversized hoodie she found hanging on the chair.

Her messy hair looked like it had survived a natural disaster.

She looked into the mirror.

Dead eyes.

Fake confidence.

Tired soul.

“Beautiful,” she muttered sarcastically.

---

By the time she reached college, half the classes were over.

Students filled the corridor with noise and laughter while Nila walked through them like a ghost.

Untouchable.

Disconnected.

She stopped suddenly near the department notice board.

Someone stood there arguing with a professor.

A girl.

White shirt.

Black skirt.

Sharp eyes.

Elegant posture.

Beautiful in the kind of way that made people stare without realizing it.

“Sir, I submitted the project yesterday,” the girl said calmly.

“You submitted it late.”

“Three minutes late.”

“Rules are rules.”

Nila leaned against the wall nearby, watching silently.

The girl looked irritated but controlled.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

Just dangerous in a quiet way.

Then her eyes shifted.

Straight toward Nila.

For one second, everything around them disappeared.

Nila looked away first.

Annoying.

Why did that eye contact feel personal?

The professor walked away angrily while the girl exhaled deeply and fixed the strap of her bag.

As she turned to leave, a paper slipped from her file and fell near Nila’s shoes.

Nila picked it up lazily.

“Aaradhya.”

The name was written on the top.

Pretty name.

Pretty girl.

Troublesome combination.

Aaradhya stepped closer and extended her hand politely.

“Thank you.”

Nila stared at her for two seconds before giving the paper back.

“You fight with professors often?”

Aaradhya blinked slightly.

“Only when they're wrong.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“And sleeping through life sounds productive?”

Nila narrowed her eyes.

Interesting.

The girl walked away before Nila could answer.

But for the first time in months…

Nila watched someone leave.

And wished they would turn back.