When We Fell in Love Again

Beginning

Chapter 1: The Train Journey

The train screeched to a halt at New Delhi Railway Station, jolting Aarav out of his thoughts. He adjusted his backpack, stepped onto the platform, and inhaled the warm air thick with dust, diesel, and chai vendors shouting in chorus. Delhi always overwhelmed him, but today it felt different.

Today was the first day of his internship at a reputed media house—his first big step towards proving that he wasn’t just the quiet boy from Lucknow who hid behind books.

As he dragged his suitcase across the crowded platform, he noticed her.

She was standing near a tea stall, her hair tied messily in a bun, wearing a simple blue kurti and jeans, sipping chai like the world owed her nothing but this moment of calm. Something about her stood out—maybe the way she looked at the chaos without flinching, as if she belonged to it.

Aarav froze.

Not because she was beautiful (though she was), but because he had seen her before. A face he thought he had forgotten, but one memory pulled back like a flood.

Riya.

The same girl who once sat two benches away in their school classroom. The girl he had never dared to talk to, except in borrowed glances and awkward stolen moments.

Five years. And here she was.

He wanted to walk up, say hello, maybe make a joke about fate pulling pranks. But he hesitated. What if she didn’t remember him? What if she had moved on, the way people do?

His phone buzzed. His new boss. “Be in office at 10 sharp. Don’t be late.”

Aarav sighed, forced his eyes away, and turned to leave. But just as he stepped forward, he heard a familiar voice.

“Aarav? Is that you?”

He froze mid-step. His heart skipped a beat.

Chapter 2: Old Names, New Faces

“Aarav Pradhan from St. Mary’s School, Lucknow?”

Riya’s smile was playful, her tone laced with curiosity. Aarav turned slowly, and for a second, it felt like the platform blurred out. She still had the same spark in her eyes.

“Yeah,” he managed, awkwardly. “And you’re… Riya Sharma.”

She laughed softly. “Wow. Five years and you still remember.”

Of course, he remembered. He had memorized every detail about her back then—how she twirled her pen when she was bored, how she laughed even when teachers scolded her, how she always had her diary open during recess.

They stood facing each other, the air heavy with nostalgia. The awkward silence stretched until Riya broke it.

“So, Delhi? Internship? Or…”

“Internship,” Aarav said quickly. “Media house. You?”

“Final year Journalism. DU. I’m staying here in the hostel. Delhi kind of grows on you.”

They started walking together towards the exit. Aarav couldn’t help but notice how easily she carried herself, how naturally conversations flowed from her lips. Meanwhile, he found himself calculating each word before speaking, afraid he might sound foolish.

“Still the quiet one?” she teased.

He chuckled nervously. “Some things don’t change.”