there are moments when the world moves, and you feel like you're standing still. like the air has paused just for you, and everything else is a blur of noise you don't belong to.

Daya always felt that pause. long before he became an architect of spaces, long before people learned to depend on him, long before he learned to hold his own heart gently. he noticed details; the way sunlight fell across a wall, the faint smile someone almost let slip, the weight of a silence that spoke more than words.

Shreya, on the other hand, lived cautiously. she measured her steps, her words, her smiles. every friendship, every fleeting warmth was a test; a risk she rarely took. she had learned early that letting someone too close could leave cracks she didn't want to repair.

both of them carried memories that shaped them, invisible scars that had no cracks, no jagged edges.

their hearts were steady enough to walk past pain without collapsing, sensible enough to see the world clearly, careful enough to not let it slip by unnoticed..

they didn't know each other yet; they didn't know how the edges of their worlds would brush, how the silence they both carried could one day speak louder than any words.

for now, they just existed in their separate spaces, both waiting, in a way, for something gentle to arrive.