The one day he stayed

The faculty circle wasn’t exactly a circle — more like a chaotic arc of benches, unevenly arranged around a few tired models and a big discussion board pinned with site sketches.

Vanya sat in her usual spot — somewhere safely in the middle, not too front, not too back. Atharva sat beside her, half-asleep, head resting on his palm while the faculty rambled on about axis lines and visual connections.

She tried to listen. She really did.

But she could feel him walk in.

It was the subtle shift in the air — like the room took one sharp breath.

Yuvi.

Late, as always, but the kind of late that didn’t need an apology. He walked with that same slow confidence, backpack slung over one shoulder, pulling off his hoodie to reveal a simple black t-shirt that somehow made everyone turn.

He didn’t sit right away. Just leaned on the back wall, arms crossed, scanning the models like he had all the time in the world.

She told herself not to look.

So of course, she did.

Their eyes met — just for a second — and he didn’t look away.

And then, after a moment, he walked over… and sat two benches away, across from her. Not next to her. But close enough to see her every expression, every shift in posture.

She swallowed.

She didn’t know what to do with this kind of attention — the silent, intentional kind. It wasn’t playful or loud. It didn’t ask for her to react. It just was.

Half an hour passed like this. And then, as if on cue, the guy sitting next to her asked softly, “Hey, I’m just going to the washroom. Watch my bag?”

She nodded.

And before her brain could process it, Yuvi was already walking over. He didn’t ask. Didn’t pause.

He just sat.

Right next to her.

Close.

Too close.

His knee brushed against hers as he settled in. His arm, casually thrown over the back of the bench, hovered just behind her shoulder.

She tried to ignore it. Focused on the board. The faculty. Anything.

But the warmth of his body beside hers pulled her attention like gravity.

She leaned forward slightly to pick up her pen.

And then he leaned too — elbow on the table, head turned slightly, like he wasn’t even trying to look at her but did anyway.

She felt it — that unspoken pull again.

That buzz under her skin.

She didn’t move away.

Neither did he.

No words were exchanged. Nothing was said. But her heart was thudding in a way that made her wonder how this had all happened without a single flirtatious word.

He wasn’t touching her.

But she had never felt more touched.