four
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Know you're all that I want this life
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The next morning, Ishanvi woke to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight streaming through the dorm room window. Meera was already up, humming a tune as she rummaged through her wardrobe.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Meera said, glancing over her shoulder. "First day of classes. Nervous?"
"A little," Ishanvi admitted, sitting up and stretching. Her mind was still half-occupied by yesterday's encounter with Nitish, but she shook the thought away. Today was about her.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine. Stick with me, and we'll crush this first day," Meera said with a grin, tossing her an apple from the small fruit basket on her desk.
After a quick breakfast, the two headed to their respective classes. The campus was alive with the buzz of students, their voices echoing through the open courtyards. Ishanvi felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. Mount Carmel College was everything her parents had described—a world of endless opportunities—but it also felt like a maze she wasn't sure how to navigate yet.
Her first lecture was English Literature, a subject she'd always loved. The classroom smelled faintly of chalk and new books, and the professor, a bespectacled woman with a warm smile, immediately set a welcoming tone. Ishanvi found herself relaxing as the class began to discuss poetry.
As the day went on, she moved from one lecture to the next, meeting new people and slowly settling into the rhythm of college life. Meera's easygoing personality made it easier to connect with others, and by lunchtime, they had already formed a small group of friends.
Over plates of steaming idlis and sambar at the campus cafeteria, the conversation drifted from favorite movies to awkward school memories. Ishanvi found herself laughing more than she had in weeks. It felt good to let go, even if just for a little while.
"Hey, Ishanvi," a voice called from behind her. She turned to see Nitish, standing casually with a tray of food in his hands. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Hi," she said, her voice slightly more composed than she expected.
"Mind if I join?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.
"Sure," Meera interjected before Ishanvi could respond, patting the chair enthusiastically. "Come on, bhai, sit. I was just telling them about the time you fell off your cycle in front of the whole colony."
"Meera," Nitish groaned, his cheeks turning faintly pink. "Why are you like this?"
The group burst into laughter, and Ishanvi couldn't help but smile. Nitish was effortlessly charming, blending into the conversation with ease. He shared stories of his own college experiences, painting vivid pictures of late-night study sessions, impromptu stargazing parties, and the occasional chaos of group projects.
As the lunch hour wound down, Nitish turned to Ishanvi. "Hey, do you have a break after this?"
"I do," she said, surprised.
"Great. There's a spot on campus you need to see. I feel like you're going to love it. It's kind of a hidden gem," he said, standing up and grabbing his tray. "Meera, I'm borrowing your roommate for a bit."
Meera raised an eyebrow but waved him off. "Don't lose her, bhai. She's my only source of sanity right now."
Ishanvi followed Nitish across the campus, her curiosity piqued. They weaved through clusters of students and buildings until they reached a quiet garden tucked behind the library. It was serene, with blooming flowers and a small fountain at its center.
"This," Nitish said, gesturing to the garden, "is my favorite place on campus. Whenever things get overwhelming, I come here. It's a good place to think."
"It's beautiful," Ishanvi said softly, taking in the tranquility of the space.
Nitish sat on a stone bench and patted the spot beside him. "So, how's your first day going? Still overwhelmed?"
"A little," she admitted, sitting down. "But it's better than I expected. The people here are nice. And Meera's been great."
He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Meera's good at making people feel at home. She gets that from our mom."
There was a brief pause, and then Nitish added, "You seem like someone who thinks a lot. About everything. Am I right?"
Ishanvi blinked, caught off guard by the observation. "I guess. I just... there's a lot on my mind lately."
"Parents?" he asked gently.
She hesitated, then nodded. "They've always been supportive, but their expectations feel... heavy sometimes."
Nitish leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. "I get it. My parents are the same way, especially with Meera and me being the 'model children.' But you know what I've realized? You can't live your life just to meet someone else's expectations. At some point, you have to figure out what you want."
His words hit her harder than she expected. She looked at him, seeing not just the easygoing guy who charmed everyone but someone who had clearly thought deeply about life.
"I'll try to remember that," she said softly.
"You should," he said, his voice warm. "You seem like someone with a lot of potential. Don't let it get buried under other people's plans for you."
For the first time in a while, Ishanvi felt a sense of clarity. Nitish wasn't just someone she was drawn to—he was someone who saw her, really saw her.
As they sat in the quiet garden, the sun filtering through the leaves above them, Ishanvi realized something: this moment, this conversation, might just be the beginning of something extraordinary.
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