College didn't feel as terrifying as people said it would. At least, not yet.
The halls were buzzing, students clumped in circles like they'd known each other forever even though it was barely 9 a.m. I didn't really talk much unless I had to, but I could hold my own. People called me friendly. I called it survival.
Room 206.
General Science and Engineering Physics.
I pushed open the door and picked a spot two seats from the back, near the window. A few students were already chatting, some scrolling through their phones. A group across the aisle was arguing over whether the teacher would be chill or one of those professors.
"I hope it's someone young," a girl whispered to her friend. "Not another grey-haired bore with chalk dust on their sleeves."
I half-smiled and opened my notebook, sketching aimlessly while the noise filled the room.
A few minutes later, the door creaked open—and a girl walked in, laughing softly as she chatted with a few other faculty just outside.
She wore wide-legged black pants and a soft, oversized cream shirt tucked loosely at the waist. Her black hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a few loose strands falling around her face. No makeup. Just clear, glowing skin and that confident, effortless kind of beauty that makes you forget to breathe for a second.
Definitely a student.
That's what everyone assumed—until she turned around, stepped into the room, and said, "Sorry I'm late. First-day chaos."
She gave us a small, apologetic smile that made my stomach twist a little. "I'm Daphne Mehra, your faculty for this course."
The whole room blinked.
"What?" the girl next to me whispered. "She's the professor?"
Daphne laughed gently, like she'd been through this a hundred times. ""Yeah, I know. I don't look the part. I get mistaken for a student at least twice a day. Also still get carded for R-rated movies, if that helps."
Someone from the front row blurted, "Wait, how old are you?"
Her eyebrows lifted slightly, amused. "Twenty-four. Relax, I'm qualified."
Everyone laughed. She had that easy way of pulling people in without trying too hard.
"I'm not going to start teaching today," she continued. "This is just day one. You can ask me anything—about the course, about the weird things I've seen in the lab, even about how many times I've set off the fire alarm on accident. Let's keep it chill."
The tension in the room melted like ice in sunlight.
And me?
I was gone.
I watched the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, like she meant it. She didn't even look my way again, but I was already watching like I'd known her face forever.
I don't know when it happened exactly—maybe when she said her name, or maybe when she laughed like she wasn't trying to impress anyone—but something in me just… shifted.
Like I was falling.
Not in the dramatic, movie kind of way. Just this low, humming feeling in my chest like don't look away.
Maybe I imagined it—but I swear, for a fraction of a second, her gaze landed on me. Long enough to make me sit up straighter. Long enough to hope she'd look again.
I didn't even know her.
But something told me I wanted to.