I stood at the bus stop, headphones snug against my ears, lost in the world of music that somehow matched my mood. The world around me was a blur of people rushing by, their chatter nothing more than white noise, as I focused on the rhythm pulsing through my earbuds. The song was familiar, one I had on repeat for weeks now—it had a kind of melancholy energy that made my thoughts feel heavier than usual.

It was just another typical Tuesday morning. I was on autopilot—academic weapon mode activated. I had already crammed for my chemistry quiz, mapped out my history essay due in two days, and planned out my weekend study session. My grades had always been my thing, my weapon. The thing that made me stand out in a world where people cared more about the latest trends than anything else. I wasn't the girl who was asked to hang out after school or invited to parties. My social life consisted of books, tests, and trying to make sense of the chaos around me.

But today… today felt different. It wasn't the chemistry test, or the 10-page history paper hanging over my head. No, it was something much less predictable. Something I couldn't prepare for. It started with a glance.

I felt it before I saw him. A shift in the air, an undeniable presence that made me stop mid-step and tug my headphones down just enough to hear the world around me. And then, there he was.

He was standing on the opposite side of the bus stop, looking like he belonged in some 90s rom-com, the kind where the main character accidentally trips over a sidewalk crack and lands in the arms of a handsome stranger. His hair was a mess of soft curls, and his eyes—God, his eyes—had this impossible mix of humor and something deeper, like he carried secrets I would never get access to.

For a moment, we just stared at each other. I don't know what it was. Maybe the way the sunlight caught his smile or the way the crowd seemed to part around him, like the universe itself knew something I didn't. My heart didn't just race; it stopped. In that moment, I forgot about everything—about my schedule, my grades, my life of controlled chaos.

It was ridiculous. Stupid. Love at first sight, that cliché thing that I, the girl who prided herself on logic and practicality, always mocked in the books I read or the movies I skipped over. And yet, here I was—heart in my throat, a beat skipped, and all the air around me suddenly felt a little too heavy to breathe in.

He smiled—just a little—and it felt like a challenge. Like he knew I was trying to figure him out, trying to figure this out. His eyes flickered, briefly glancing down at his phone, then back up at me, like he was trying to decide whether or not to speak.

I felt my fingers tighten around my phone. This was the part where I was supposed to look away, pretend I hadn't noticed him. But I didn't.

My heart did this weird, fluttery thing. I was an academic. I didn't believe in things like love at first sight. Attraction, sure. Interest, maybe. But love? Impossible. And yet, standing there.

And then, he spoke.

"Hey," he said, his voice low but light, almost as if testing the waters. "You have a good playlist or are you just pretending to study?"

My lips parted in surprise, and I immediately regretted it. Oh, great. Of all the things I could've said, of all the cool, collected responses, my brain decided to panic and process nothing at all. I looked at him, still blinking, still trying to get my thoughts in order, as if my entire academic existence had just crumbled in front of me.

But then, he laughed. A quiet, warm sound that made the moment feel less awkward and a whole lot more real.

And that's when I realized: maybe, just maybe, I was already falling for him.