love at first sight

chapter 1

LOOK I COULDN'T EXPLAIN

I had always thought love at first sight was something people made up for movies.

You know the kind of story I mean. Two people meet by accident, their eyes lock across a crowded room, and suddenly the whole world disappears. No questions. No doubts. Just love.

I never believed any of it.

Love, to me, was something that took time. You had to know someone's habits, their bad moods, their annoying little ways. You had to see them when they weren't trying to impress you. Only then could you decide whether what you felt was real.

At least, that was what I believed before I met him.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, and I was already having a terrible day.

I had overslept, rushed out of the house without eating breakfast, and nearly missed my first class. By lunchtime, my stomach was making noises loud enough to embarrass me.

I decided to forget about everything else and go to the little café across from campus. It wasn't anything fancy. Just a small place with wooden tables, old-fashioned lamps, and large windows that overlooked the busy street.

I pushed the door open and immediately heard the familiar sound of conversations, spoons hitting cups, and soft music playing somewhere in the background.

"Finally," I whispered to myself.

I joined the short line near the counter and pulled out my phone.

I was scrolling through my messages when someone accidentally bumped into my shoulder.

"Oh, sorry."

I looked up.

And that was when I saw him.

For a moment, I honestly forgot what I was doing.

He stood a few steps away from me, holding a cup of coffee in one hand. He looked embarrassed, like he wasn't used to making mistakes.

"It's okay," I said.

That was all.

Two words.

Nothing special.

But he smiled.

And somehow, that smile stayed with me.

I looked away quickly and pretended to be interested in my phone again. My heart was beating strangely fast, and I couldn't understand why.

What is wrong with me?

I'd only seen the guy for a few seconds.

I ordered my food and found a table near the window. I tried to concentrate on my phone while I waited, but my eyes kept wandering around the café.

And then I saw him again.

He was sitting at a table on the other side of the room, talking to another guy. Every now and then, he laughed.

I told myself to stop looking.

I didn't.

There was something about him that was difficult to explain. It wasn't just that he was handsome. Plenty of handsome people existed.

It was something else.

Something I couldn't put into words.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself. Maybe it was his calm expression. Or maybe I was simply tired and hungry and letting my imagination run wild.

My food arrived, and I finally forced myself to look away.

I had barely taken three bites when someone stopped beside my table.

"Is this seat taken?"

I looked up.

It was him.

I almost dropped my fork.

"No," I said quickly. "It's free."

He pulled out the chair and sat down.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then he smiled.

"I'm Daniel."

I swallowed.

"I'm Maya."

"Maya," he repeated, almost like he was making sure he remembered it.

I don't know why, but hearing my name from him made me smile.

"So," he said, glancing at my untouched drink, "are you always this quiet?"

I laughed.

"No. You're just making me nervous."

The words escaped before I could stop them.

His eyebrows lifted.

I immediately regretted saying it.

"I mean—"

He laughed softly.

"It's okay. I'm nervous too."

That surprised me.

"You?"

"Me."

I shook my head. "You don't look nervous."

"Maybe I'm just good at hiding it."

There was something honest about the way he said it.

We started talking.

At first, it was about simple things—the café, school, the weather, how terrible the traffic had been that morning. Nothing important.

But somehow, twenty minutes disappeared.

Then thirty.

I couldn't remember the last time talking to someone had felt so easy.

Eventually, his friend came over and reminded him that they were supposed to leave.

Daniel stood up.

"I should go."

I nodded, pretending I wasn't disappointed.

"Yeah. Me too."

He looked at me for a second.

"Will I see you again?"

I smiled.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I don't know. You might have to get lucky."

He laughed.

"Then I'll take my chances."

He walked away.

I watched him leave through the glass door, and something inside me felt strangely empty.

I didn't know his last name.

I didn't know where he lived.

I didn't even have his number.

All I knew was his first name.

Daniel.

I repeated it silently as I packed my things.

Outside, the afternoon sun was beginning to disappear behind the buildings. People rushed past me, cars moved along the road, and the city continued as if nothing had happened.

But for me, something had changed.

I just didn't know what yet.

As I walked home, I kept thinking about that first moment in the café.

The accidental bump.

The apology.

The smile.

The way he had looked at me.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe I would wake up the next morning and forget all about him.

At least, that's what I told myself.

But deep down, I already knew I was lying.

Because sometimes a person enters your life quietly.

No warning.

No explanation.

Just one ordinary moment that suddenly doesn't feel ordinary anymore.

And that afternoon, without knowing it, I had met the person who was about to turn my carefully planned life upside down.