Aryan collided with Nayab in the crowded corridor.

For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still.

Their eyes met.

And in that instant, Aryan felt as though he had been drawn into the depths of her gaze. There was something enchanting about those warm brown eyes something that held him captive without effort.

For the first time in his life, Rana Aryan Singh Rathore felt as though he had found something he never knew he was searching for.

"Can you not watch where you're going?" Nayab snapped.

Her voice pulled him abruptly from his thoughts.

"What?" he asked, still dazed.

"I said, watch where you're going. People shouldn't walk around like they're blind."

Aryan raised an eyebrow and looked at her.

"You bumped into me."

"No, you bumped into me," Nayab retorted. "Didn't you see such a large human being standing in front of you?"

A smirk tugged at Aryan's lips.

"I'm taller than you. Perhaps that's why I didn't see you. To be honest, I wasn't looking that far down."

"What?!"

Nayab gasped in outrage.

"Do you feel no shame mocking my height?"

"Not particularly," Aryan replied calmly. "And do you even know who you're talking to?"

"I don't want to know. All I know is that you're an incredibly rude person."

"Mind your tone. I am a Rana."

Nayab burst into laughter.

"A Rana? You look more like a donkey."

Aryan surprised even himself by not feeling offended.

Normally, such insolence would have infuriated him.

Yet somehow, coming from her, it only amused him.

"And you look like a frog," he shot back.

Nayab's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

She glared at him with all the fury she could muster.

"My face does not resemble a frog! Yours resembles a donkey!"

Aryan bit back a laugh.

The sight of her fuming, cheeks flushed with indignation, was unexpectedly entertaining.

For reasons he could not understand, he found her anger far more charming than he ought to have.

.

.

."What a strange man you are," Nayab said, staring at him in disbelief. "You're laughing. I think you need medicine."

"And I think you need an asylum," Aryan retorted without missing a beat.

"See? You're talking far too much now."Nayab crossed her arms, trying her hardest not to pout.

Aryan noticed immediately.A smirk appeared on his face."Sulking like a child, are we?"

"I am not a child!" she protested. "I'm seventeen. I'll be eighteen soon."

"And I'm older than you. You should show me some respect."Nayab narrowed her eyes."Oh, really? And how old are you?""Twenty-five." Aryan replied

"So what?" she shot back. "It was still your fault. You bumped into me."

Aryan let out an amused chuckle.

"You truly are impossible."

"And you're unbelievably arrogant." Nayab replied instantly

"People usually don't speak to me this way." Aryan looked directly in her eyes

"Perhaps people are afraid of you." Nayab put her hand on her waist

"And you're not?" Aryan asked

Nayab lifted her chin defiantly."Should I be?"

For a moment, Aryan simply stared at her.

No hesitation. No fear. No attempt to impress him.

Just honesty wrapped in stubbornness.

Something about it fascinated him."You should be," he said softly.

"Well, unfortunately for you, I'm not." Nayab kept looking at him

Aryan laughed again.He had met nobles, politicians, scholars, and socialites.Yet none of them had managed to entertain him as much as this infuriatingly stubborn girl in the span of five minutes.

"Uff! Because of you, I'm late now. Move aside!" Nayab exclaimed.

Before Aryan could reply, she pushed past him and hurried away.

"Hey—"

But she was already gone.

The soft chime of her anklets echoed through the corridor as she ran, their delicate melody lingering in the air long after she had disappeared from sight.

Aryan stood there, watching her retreating figure.

For some inexplicable reason, the sound of those anklets felt like music to his ears.

The corridor had grown quiet once more, yet he found himself listening for a sound that was no longer there.

A faint smile touched his lips.

What an extraordinary girl.

Shaking his head, Aryan finally turned away.

With Nayab's laughter, sharp tongue, and spirited eyes still occupying his thoughts, Rana Aryan Singh Rathore made his way toward his classroom.

Little did he know that the girl who had stormed into his day like a whirlwind was destined to linger in his mind far longer than she should have.

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