Zivah was the kind of girl who said good morning to strangers, laughed a little too loud and tripped over her own feet at least twice a day. She was warm, messy and real the kind of person who made everywhere feel a little more like home. Shaurya was the kind of guy people talked about but never talked to. Top of every class, sharp as glass and completely, deliberately alone. He didn't do small talk. He didn't do people. And he certainly didn't do girls like Zivah. But here's the thing about fate it doesn't ask for your permission. One accident. One moment. One girl who refused to pretend he didn't exist. Zivah didn't know why she kept showing up for someone who kept pushing her away. And Shaurya didn't know why for the first time in years someone's presence felt less like noise and more like... something he didn't have a word for yet. It wasn't smooth. It wasn't easy. There were misunderstandings, late nights, unsaid words and moments that hurt more than either of them expected. But somewhere between all of that something real started to grow. Not every love story begins with butterflies. Some begin with sparks. And if you're lucky enough they turn into stardust.