Some encounters don't announce themselves.
They don't come with background music or slow motion. They just… happen.
It was one of those days.
She'd gotten up to fill her water bottle, lingering by the classroom door as her friend Aditi rummaged through her bag.
"Hurry up, Aditi, you slowpoke," she said, laughing softly, her smile stretching wide enough to make the corners of her eyes crinkle.
She turned, ready to stride out, her thoughts already ahead of her body— and that's when it happened.
Her steps halted abruptly— because her head collided with someone's chest.
A pause. A heartbeat— and then two.
She looked up.
And there he was.
Their eyes locked, and something clicked. Not in a loud, dramatic way— but quietly, deeply.
His brown eyes were impossibly calm, like a sea she didn't know she had been drifting toward. Her breath caught—not because of the impact, but because of the moment.
Her left hand was entangled in his, unintentionally, but it stayed there for a second too long.
Long enough for the world to fade.
She didn't even realize someone had pulled her back, gently yet urgently, breaking the moment like glass touched by a soft wind.
He blinked, like he was waking up too, and mumbled, "I'm so—"
"It's fine. Go ahead," she interrupted quickly, her voice steady, her eyes unreadable. "I'll take it from here."
She didn't know how she managed to say it like it was nothing.
But her friend did.
Aditi gave him a glare that could make thunders retreat. And then, turning to her, she said with a smirk that carried both pride and possession—
"That's not going to happen. Not when I'm here and alive."
She blinked, stunned—then broke into laughter, the kind that starts in your chest and spills into your limbs.
Without a second thought, she pulled Aditi into a tight hug, burying her face in the nook of her friend's neck.
"I'm really blessed to have you," she whispered.
And she meant every word.