Anjali had fallen in love even before she understood what love truly meant.

It wasn't the fairytale with violins in the background or flowers fluttering in the breeze. No, her love story began with scraped knees, school uniforms, and innocent stolen glances. She was ten. He was fifteen. He was already her hero.

Being the best friend of her brother and the son of a family, their parents called their own, Arjun Singhania was a constant in her life—like the sky or the moon. Always there, always shining, but impossibly out of reach.

It started small. A flutter in her heart when he smiled. The way her world slowed when he was around. And then came Rover, the puppy.

Arjun had returned from school one rainy afternoon, his uniform muddy, his hands scratched, but his arms were cradling an injured street puppy. The poor thing had been hit by a car, bleeding and terrified. But Arjun, just fifteen then, took him straight to the vet, stayed by his side through the stitches, and named him Rover. He nursed him day and night, even skipping cricket with Rahul just to ensure the little guy ate on time.

Anjali had watched all this silently, from behind her storybook in the corner of the Singhania living room. Her ten-year-old heart had decided then: This boy... he's not like the rest. He's magic.

Years passed, and her admiration only grew.

There was the time at the park when Arjun noticed a homeless man sleeping on the cold ground while everyone else looked away. A mere seventeen-year-old boy with a heart that already had more depth than most adults. He pleaded with his parents, with his Dadu, until they finally spoke to the man and gave him a second chance—a job and shelter. That night, Anjali cried in secret, not out of sadness, but from the overwhelming feeling of love that had no name then.

And then... there was the corridor incident.

Anjali had forgotten her water bottle—typical her—and was walking back to class alone. A bunch of notorious senior boys were lounging near her path, their smirks making her nervous. Before she could turn around, a firm voice sliced through the air. "Is there a problem here?"

Arjun.

Her savior. Her knight in shining school uniform.

He had warned them—no, threatened them with a calm intensity that had them scattering like pigeons in a storm. That day, Anjali didn't just fall a little more for Arjun. She dived headfirst into love with no parachute.

From then on, she would find reasons—silly ones, sometimes outright ridiculous—to visit the Singhania mansion. Muktha, her best friend and Arjun's younger sister, was her perfect excuse.

"Do you know if Arjun likes blueberry pancakes?" she once asked Muktha innocently while casually pushing a plate of them toward her at breakfast.

Muktha rolled her eyes. "That's his least favorite. He says blueberries taste like regret."

"Oh..." Anjali blinked. "Then I'll ask maid to make chocolate chip ones tomorrow."

She memorized his schedule. His favorite color. How he hated onions in his omelet. How he liked his coffee—no sugar, no nonsense. She would pretend not to care, but her heart would skip a beat every time she heard his name passing.

By the time she turned fifteen, the butterflies in her stomach had evolved into a full-blown zoo. She knew she was in love.

But love made her shy.

She could no longer look into his eyes without her breath catching. His dark brown gaze felt like a whirlpool—intense, unreadable, and too dangerous to stare at for long. So she began to avoid him. Not out of dislike, but because loving him had made her a coward in his presence. Her love was loud in her heart but silent on her lips.

While Arjun, Rahul, and Mahesh left abroad to study and build their dreams, Anjali stayed behind, growing from a starry-eyed teenager to a dreamy young woman. But the love? It only grew with her. Like ivy on a wall—it curled around her heart, deeply rooted.

And then... they came back.

Arjun had changed—sharper, more focused, radiating a quiet confidence. But he was still him. Still the boy who saved puppies, helped the homeless, and protected her.

She noticed everything. The way his jaw clenched when he was deep in thought. The way his hand always reached for his watch before every meeting. The way he still spoke gently with elders, but commanded a room with authority.

But this time... he noticed her too.

The girl who used to hide behind the curtain was now a woman with emerald green eyes that refused to meet his. The girl who used to giggle from afar now blushed crimson whenever he entered the room. The same girl whose love had never wavered was suddenly everywhere he looked.

And this time, Arjun wasn't oblivious.

He saw the way her gaze lingered. He noticed the faint tremble in her voice when she spoke his name. And despite the years, the age gap, the unspoken boundaries—they were on the edge of something neither of them could define.

Yet.