hunched and weary. Aarav claimed a seat, setting his camera down beside him, and surrendered to the quiet. He did what he always did: he watched. He found beauty in the mundane—a story etched into every furrowed brow, a memory lingering in every fading silhouette of a departing traveler. Then, his gaze settled on the bench opposite his own. A girl sat there. She looked to be about twenty-two, dressed in a simple blue *kurti*. Her long, dark hair framed a face that seemed remarkably calm against the backdrop of the station’s gloom. She held a small notebook in her lap, but she wasn't writing. She was simply looking at the rain, a genuine, soft smile playing on her lips—the kind of expression usually reserved for private joys. Aarav frowned. Most people caught in this delay wore masks of irritation. This girl looked like she was exactly where she wanted to be. As if sensing the weight of his gaze, she looked up. Their eyes locked. Aarav instinctively looked away, heart quickening, but a moment later, he couldn't resist a second glance. She was still smiling, watching him now. Then, she did something entirely unexpected. She stood up and walked