The practicals had resumed.
Same halls. Same lab coats. Same ticking clock that echoed a little too loudly in the silence of her mind.
She hadn't expected to be in the same batch as him. But fate—or irony, whatever it was—had its way of circling back to the very places she'd once tried to leave behind.
She felt Aditi's eyes on her, but chose not to meet them.
She was done reacting.
There he was.
Not across a corridor.
Not in a memory.
Not from a distance.
But there.
And the worst part? It didn't feel cinematic.
It felt real.
Uncomfortably real.
He didn't glance at her. Not once.
Not when she entered. Not when the roll numbers were called.
Not even when their hands brushed slightly while exchanging slides across the microscope.
Her expression remained blank. Because now she knew—he wasn't the villain, and she wasn't the girl waiting for answers.
He was just a chapter.
And still, the weight in the air between them could silence even the noisiest room.
She caught herself breathing slower around him—like her lungs needed permission.
Every movement became measured.
Every glance—calculated.
Not because she was scared.
But because proximity has a way of undoing carefully built walls.
She found her spot in the corner seat, pretending to be occupied with notes, even as her mind wandered... to how his sleeves were always folded up to his forearms, or how he slightly tilted his head while reading.
These weren't memories anymore.
They were observations.
New ones.
And that terrified her more than the past ever could.