The rain had painted the world in silver, with monsoon clouds curling like ink across the sky. Thunder murmured in the distance, and the sweet scent of wet earth mingled with blooming jasmine that trailed along the college boundary.
Through the misty drizzle, a girl appeared—
draped in a soft cotton kurta the color of twilight, her dupatta fluttering like a monsoon breeze.
Each step of hers splashed gently against puddles, anklets singing a delicate rhythm beneath the sound of rain. Her kajal-lined eyes looked upward—half curious, half lost in thought—as raindrops shimmered on her lashes like tiny pearls. The crimson of her bindi glowed against her golden fare skin, and her books were hugged close to her chest like secrets she hadn't yet told the world.
She walked past through the beautiful bogainvillia tree from where the college gate now rising before her—grand, mossy, familiar. Boys paused mid-conversation. Girls looked up from their umbrellas. It wasn't her beauty alone, but the calm storm she carried within her— the brey-black glassy eyes that tells you many things without even saying,the eyes where you will lose yourself,the innocence that she is carrying makes her more ethereal like poetry that walks.
She wasn't just arriving at college. She was entering her destiny.
The rain hadn't stopped—but neither had the whispers.
Siyana stepped onto the main path, unaware of how many eyes followed her. Not just because she looked like a verse come alive, but because she'd unknowingly caught the attention of someone no one dared to breathe near.
Riyan Collin Fernandez.
He sat at the back of his blacked-out SUV, parked just beyond the college walls. The engine purred low, like a beast ready to move. Smoke curled from his cigarette as he leaned back, one arm draped lazily over the seat, his fingers adorned with cold rings—symbols of blood, power, and silence.
His dark shirt clung to his chest, wet from walking through the rain minutes ago, and his sharp jawline glistened where a raindrop had refused to let go.
Siya's POV
I should've brought the umbrella,but what can i do from the moment i have learnt what is rain, I
have fallen in love with it. It feels like i want dance freely in the rain . It brings a different sence of peaceful, playful feelings. But the rain was gentle, almost comforting, like a song my mother used to hum while brushing my hair. Besides, there was something magical about arriving at college for the first time with the sky washing everything clean. Like a fresh page… a soft, wet page. I am half indian and half italian but i am very fond of indian culture since my mom is indian, she always about her india so i think the love for its culture grew in my heart...
My kurta was already soaked halfway. I hugged my books close, trying to protect them—not that they were new.
I smiled to myself.
Everything felt so big. The gate. The trees. The people laughing in groups. The campus smelled like rain and roses. I didn't know anyone yet. But for some reason, I wasn't nervous.....not now...