The city was alive in its own rhythm—cars weaving through narrow lanes, streetlights flickering, and the faint aroma of roasted corn drifting through the evening air. The sky had begun its descent into dusk, hues of orange melting into blue.
Vihaan adjusted his backpack as he stepped out of the café where he worked part-time. The usual fatigue from a long shift was there, but something else tugged at the edges of his mind—an odd sense of anticipation, like he was waiting for something without knowing what.
Then he saw her.
Across the street, a girl stood by a roadside bookstall, flipping through a novel. The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the way her fingers hesitated on a page—it all felt strangely familiar. Vihaan didn't know her, yet something deep inside him stirred, a feeling he couldn't name.
The honk of a car snapped him out of his trance. He shook his head, dismissing the odd déjà vu, and walked past the stall.
But fate had other plans.
Just as he crossed the street, the wind picked up, carrying loose papers from the bookstall into the air. One of them smacked against Vihaan's chest, and before he could react, another figure reached for the same page. Their fingers brushed.
She looked up.
A pair of eyes met his—warm, deep, and oddly captivating. Vihaan opened his mouth to apologize, but the words didn't come. For a brief second, time felt like it had folded into itself.
The girl blinked, as if snapping back to reality. She gave him a polite nod, took the paper, and walked away.
Vihaan exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.
Why did it feel like he had met her before?
Little did he know, this was just the first of many unpredictable encounters.