Class was halfway through when the door clicked open again.
No one bothered to look up. Late arrivals were normal. Except Varsha.Her head lifted before she even realized it. And there he was.
Paul stepped inside in his red blazer, hair slightly messy, expressing the same calm, empty look he always carried. He did not look tired or stressed, just normal.
As always.
Varsha's throat tightened for no clear reason.
Paul did not scan the room.He did not greet anyone. He did not react when the teacher shot him an annoyed look.
He simply walked to his seat in the corner, pulled out his notebook, and sat down.
Like nothing happened.Like nothing had ever happened. Like he had not been standing in that silent nightmare hallway only hours ago.
Varsha's grip tightened around her pen.
"Perfect," she whispered under her breath. "Show up like nothing is wrong."
She tried to look at the board.
Tried.
But her eyes kept flicking back to him. Quick glances she prayed no one noticed.Paul did not look at her. Not even once.
He stared out of the window. Not paying attention to anything. One palm resting on his cheek.
Varsha swallowed.
He was here. Real. Breathing.
Then why did her chest feel tight again?
Why did the air around him feel exactly the way it had in that dream.
She forced her attention to the board, tuning into the teacher's monotone voice.
"…and this law represents the change in velocity…"
Her eyes drifted left again before she could stop them.
Paul was staring straight forward, perfectly still.
Then he blinked. Just a blink. Nothing else.
But Varsha felt her heart jump like she had been caught doing something forbidden.
She looked away fast. Her breath slipped out shaky.
"Stop. You are being insane," she whispered.
But the feeling clung to her. The folded hoodie. The blood. The sound of footsteps. His voice told her not to turn around.
She pressed her lips tight.
Fine. If he wanted to act like everything was normal, she would too.
She straightened in her seat and fixed her eyes on the equations on the board.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Then she failed. Her eyes slid sideways again. This time Paul was looking directly at her.
No expression. No emotion. Simply looking.
Varsha froze. Her breath caught in her throat.
Paul blinked once, then slowly turned back to his notebook as if she did not exist.
Varsha snapped her gaze forward, cheeks colder than the classroom air. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
"Okay," she whispered. "What was that."
A chill stayed under her skin.
She was not scared. But she was not calm either.
She was stuck somewhere in between, and she hated that more than anything.
The teacher twirls the chalk once more and points at the crooked circle he drew.
"Alright. Black holes. Let's start with the fun part. The nightmare physics."
He taps the board.
"A black hole is gravity gone feral. Something packs so much mass into such a tiny space that the pull becomes ridiculous. Strong enough to drag in light. Strong enough to bend time. Strong enough to say, 'All paths lead inward now. Tough luck.'"
A few students laugh under their breath. It is easier than thinking about the scale of it.
He continues, pacing in front of the board.
"Get close to the event horizon, that invisible boundary, and it does not matter how fast you move. You go in. Not because you give up, but because spacetime itself stops giving you options."
He stops walking and turns to the class.
"So, what is a singularity. And do not recite the definition. Tell me what it actually means."
Silence settles over the room. Heavy and waiting.
A chair shifts.
Varsha stands. Not quickly. More like someone accepting something she has been carrying since she woke up. Her fingers tighten around the edge of her desk before she lets go.
Her eyes drift left.
Paul was by the window, staring outside like the world beyond the glass was more interesting than anything in the room.
Varsha exhales once and says quietly, "The singularity is where everything breaks. Where what we know can't explain things anymore."
A simple and honest answer.
She sits.
The teacher lets out a short laugh that sounds relieved. "That right there is the real answer."
He faces the board again.
"As you fall deeper into a black hole, gravity climbs until the math starts getting nervous. Light stretches. Time slows. Space bends into shapes we do not have names for. And at the center, the singularity, the equations give up. Infinity. Error. You are on your own."
A soft ripple of amusement moves through the class.
Then his voice lowers.
"And here is the darkest fact. Everyone knows it is dangerous. The universe practically puts up a warning sign: do not enter, nothing inside works the way you expect."
He looks around the room.
"But people still want to explore it. Scientists. Storytellers. Anyone curious enough to chase the edge of understanding. The singularity pulls us in with the idea that there is something beyond what we know."
The class goes quiet again. All students give thoughtful expressions.
Varsha glances toward the window once more.
Paul was still staring outside. Expression empty.
Posture relaxed. Like he was caught in his own gravity, drifting somewhere far from the classroom.
And not trying to escape.
The bell rang.
Chairs scraped. People shouted. Bags zipped.
Normal chaos.
Varsha did not move. She stayed seated, staring at the open page of her notebook like it might suddenly explain something she had missed. Her fingers tapped once against the desk. Then again. Then stopped.
Fine. She would wait until everyone left. Then maybe she could breathe again.
A shadow fell across her desk. Her breath stalled.
She did not look up at first. She did not want to. But her eyes lifted anyway.
Paul was standing there.
Still. Like he had been there longer than she realized.
No bag in sight. One hand in his pocket.
The other hanging loosely, the bandage visible under his sleeve.
His expression was the same as always. Blank.
"Hey," he said.
Simple and flat. Like this was any normal day.
Varsha sat straighter than she meant to.
"Hey," she answered, softer than she intended.
Paul glanced at her books, then at her.
"You looked off," he said.
Varsha blinked hard. "Oh? And what is that supposed to mean?" She tried to sound casual.
Paul did not acknowledge it. "You kept staring."
"I was not staring."
"You were."
Something tightened in her chest. Maybe Embarrassment. That messy mix that made her want to sink into the floor.
"Maybe I was thinking," she snapped.
Paul tilted his head a little. A tiny motion, barely there.
"Thinking about me?"
"No. Obviously not." She forced a scoff. "Why would I think about you."
Paul's eyes drifted around the classroom, then back at her. "People don't look like that when they are thinking."
"Look like what."
"You looked scared."
Her heartbeat punched upward.
He said it so plainly. Like reporting numbers on a sheet of paper.
Varsha scoffed again. "I'm not scared of you."
"I didn't say you were."
She froze.
He waited patiently. Not moving. Like he could stay there forever.
"Everything alright," Paul asked.
It sounded like a routine question, but something underneath it felt wrong. Like he already knew her answer.
Varsha looked away and clutched her books tighter. "I'm fine."
"You sure."
His tone did not sound like checking in.
It sounded like confirming something he already suspected.
She swallowed hard. "I said I'm fine."
Paul watched her for another long moment.
Then he said quietly, "Alright."
He took a step back and turned toward the door.
Then as he reached the door, he paused. Without looking back, he said. "You should not come early alone."
Varsha stiffened. "Why."
Paul did not answer quickly, as if trying to remember something. Then he said, "Just don't."
He walked away.
Varsha stayed seated, heart pounding, breath thin and shaky.
Because she realized something. He never asked why she came early.
Maybe he already knew?
…
Paul was already at the library, sitting in the last row, alone. Silence all over the place. Submerged in some old tale no one remembered.
Mia spotted him immediately.
"Thought I'd find you here," she said, dropping into the chair across from him.
Paul closed the book. His eyes lifted to her.
"Why are you closing it?" she asked quickly. "I won't disturb you. I'll just watch."
"No. I'm done for the day," he said softly. "What about you?"
"Me?" She pointed at herself like she had no idea why she was even here. "Nothing, just…"
Her voice lowered into a whisper.
"Just?"
"Just wondering what happened yesterday," she said.
"Where?" Paul asked.
"You should tell me," Mia said. "Since you didn't come."
"Didn't feel like coming."
Mia squinted at him, eyes narrowing the way they always did when she suspected he was lying.
"I give up," she muttered. "Anyway, exams are coming up."
"Yeah," Paul said.
"Don't just 'yeah' me," she scoffed. "I'm terrified. You should be too. I haven't studied anything. I don't even know the syllabus. Think you'll manage?"
"Yeah."
"Tsk. Again with that." She rolled her eyes. "I don't know where all that confidence comes from."
Paul didn't answer.
"I'm serious, dude. I don't know anything about math, physics, any of it. The whole black hole explanation sounded simple when sir explained it, but exams are not simple. What should I do?"
She leaned forward. "Hey. Why aren't you saying anything?"
"It's easy when you think enough," Paul said calmly.
"Huh?" Mia blinked. "Is that supposed to comfort me? Because it's not helping at all."
"I meant it literally," Paul said. "It's easy."
"Huh." Mia stared at him. "So you're saying you know it all? And you don't need to study?"
"Yeah," Paul said. "Something like that."
"Something like that," she echoed under her breath, then suddenly grinned. "Teach me then."
"Teach you what?"
"How it's all easy," Mia said. "Like you said."
Paul thought for a moment. His head lifted up. Then his phone buzzed inside his pocket.
He checked the screen. "Some other time."
He stood up quickly.
"Wait— where are you going suddenly?" Mia scrambled upright, eyes searching his face.
"I have something to do."
He picked up his bag and started walking.
"Wait. Hold on."
She grabbed her backpack and hurried after him.