Chapter 1 – A Chance Encounter
703 Words
The bell above the café door chimed softly, a delicate sound that barely rose above the quiet chatter and clinking of cups. Kavya slipped inside, brushing the rain from her scarf. The city outside was restless—cars honking, people rushing—but in here, time felt slower, warmer.
She headed toward the corner table she always favored, a little nook where she could write in her journal without the world watching. Her bag slid off her shoulder as she sat down, a sigh escaping her lips. Today had been long—meetings at the office, deadlines hanging over her head—but she had promised herself this small ritual. Coffee, solitude, and a few stolen minutes of peace.
As she reached for the menu, the door chimed again. She looked up.
A man stepped in.
He was tall, dressed in a dark coat still speckled with raindrops, his presence so commanding that even the waitress paused for a moment before greeting him. Kavya couldn’t explain why she kept staring—maybe it was the way he carried himself, calm but distant, like a storm contained within a man. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, scanned the café until they landed—briefly—on her.
Her breath caught.
She quickly looked away, cheeks warming. What was she doing? He was just another stranger seeking coffee, nothing more. But her heart didn’t listen. Something about him unsettled her in a way that felt… familiar.
The man—Aryan—moved toward the counter. He ordered with a low, even voice that carried despite the background noise. Black coffee. No sugar. No hesitation. Kavya found herself stealing another glance as he waited, hands resting in his coat pockets, gaze distant, as if he belonged somewhere else entirely.
When his coffee arrived, fate played its first trick.
Every table in the café was full—except the chair across from her.
Kavya froze as the waitress gestured toward her table. “You can sit there, sir.”
Aryan’s eyes flickered to her, unreadable, then back to the waitress. For a moment, it seemed like he might refuse. But then he gave a small nod and walked over.
“Do you mind?” His voice was polite, deep, smooth.
Kavya shook her head quickly. “No, not at all.”
He sat, setting his cup down with quiet precision. For a while, neither of them spoke. She returned to her journal, though her pen hovered uselessly above the page. Every sense in her body was aware of him—his steady breaths, the faint scent of rain and cedar that clung to his coat, the way he stirred his coffee absentmindedly though he’d ordered it black.
“Writing?” Aryan’s question came suddenly, breaking the silence.
Kavya blinked, startled. “Oh—yes. Just… thoughts.”
His gaze lowered to the journal, but he didn’t pry further. Instead, he nodded slightly, as if respecting her boundaries. Yet something in his eyes lingered—curiosity, perhaps? Or recognition?
“And you?” she asked, before she could stop herself. “Long day?”
His lips curved in the faintest hint of a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You could say that.”
The conversation ended there, but the silence wasn’t heavy. It was… alive. A quiet exchange of unspoken things, something neither could name.
Kavya tried to focus on her writing again, but her words kept circling back to him. Why did he feel like more than a stranger? Why did one look from him feel like a secret she wasn’t supposed to know?
She closed her journal, gathering her courage. “I’m Kavya,” she offered, her voice soft but steady.
He looked at her for a long moment before replying, “Aryan.”
Their names hung in the air like a promise neither of them understood yet.
When Kavya finally left the café that evening, she carried more than her journal. She carried the weight of a glance, the echo of a voice, and the spark of something fragile—something that might change everything.
And Aryan, watching her through the rain-splattered glass, found himself wondering why silence suddenly felt so loud.
- Writer
