Chapter 1: Where the sun sat beside me
Chapter One: Where the Sun Sat Beside Me
Pranvi was the kind of girl who carried sunlight without trying.
Not loud, not careless—just warm. The kind of warmth that made ordinary mornings feel lighter and college corridors feel less exhausting.
That morning, she sat on the steps outside the humanities block, legs folded, eyes glowing with a secret she had been holding for far too long. Siya noticed immediately.
“You’re smiling like you’ve committed a crime,” Siya said, nudging her shoulder. “Confess.”
Pranvi laughed, soft and nervous. “Okay… don’t freak out.”
That was the warning that did it.
“I like someone,” Pranvi said.
Siya froze. “You like someone?”
Pranvi nodded. “Yes.”
“WHO?” Siya demanded.
She hesitated for half a second. “Arjun.”
Siya blinked. Once. Twice.
“Arjun? Quiet Arjun? The always-with-his-friends Arjun? The has-a-girlfriend Arjun?”
“Yes,” Pranvi said calmly.
“Pranvi,” Siya whispered dramatically, “are you okay?”
Pranvi smiled, unbothered. “I’m not confessing. I know my limits. I just… admire him. From afar. Like I always do.”
Siya studied her face, waiting for jealousy, desperation—anything dramatic. There was nothing. Just peace.
“If you’re happy,” Siya said finally, “then I’m happy too.”
That was Pranvi. Loving quietly. Never demanding more.
They headed to class, lectures blurring into notes and half-heard explanations. Between pages and professors, Pranvi’s eyes found Arjun the way they always did—without effort. He sat a few rows ahead, quiet, distant, existing like a thought she never tried to finish.
But something was different.
He wasn’t talking to his girlfriend.
No shared smiles.
No whispered jokes.
No sitting together.
By lunch, curiosity had turned into investigation.
By evening, they knew.
“They broke up yesterday,” Siya said, almost smiling. “She didn’t understand him. He confessed, tried… but she couldn’t adjust.”
Siya looked at Pranvi expectantly. “This is good, right? Now you—”
Pranvi shook her head gently.
“How can I be happy,” she said, voice steady, “when the person I love is hurting?”
Siya said nothing.
The sun dipped lower, painting the campus gold, and Pranvi sat there—still warm, still kind—loving someone who didn’t know, and caring more about his pain than her chances.
Some hearts don’t celebrate opportunity.
They mourn for the ones they love instead.
