First day of college.
He boarded the rickshaw to the metro station, headphones in, world out. That's when Sanya Khanna entered his life—quite literally—by sitting next to him in the cramped auto. She had almond-shaped eyes, a sharp jawline, and confidence that could slice through any awkward silence.
"Which metro station?" she asked, sliding in beside him.
"Same as yours, I guess," he muttered, startled.
She laughed. "Smooth."
That five-minute ride changed everything. They walked toward the metro, talked a little. She asked for his Snapchat. "So I don't lose you," she said.
He smiled, unsure. Was this kindness or interest?
Back home, he messaged her. Just a hi. She replied, a few hours later. Nothing flirty. Just… polite.
The next day, he didn't text or call. He didn't want to be "that guy"—the one who thinks a small gesture means everything. But two stations before hers, his phone rang.
Sanya.
"You didn't wait today," she said.
He stammered. "I-I didn't think—"
"Wait for me at Central Station. Let's go together."
And so it began. A ritual of metro rides, jokes, snacks, and subtle smiles.