The National Institute of Technology, Warangal, stood serene under the July sky, its sprawling campus kissed by the first rains of the monsoon. The ancient Kakatiya architecture of the admin building glowed in the soft drizzle, while the hostels buzzed with the energy of a new semester. Among the sea of fresh faces and familiar friends, Arjun, a third-year computer science student, walked toward the lecture hall, his backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder. His world was code, algorithms, and the occasional cricket match—until he saw her.

Nisha, a second-year electronics student, stood under the canopy of the old banyan tree near the Central Library, her umbrella forgotten as raindrops clung to her dupatta. She was engrossed in a book, her brow furrowed in concentration, oblivious to the world. Arjun slowed his pace, captivated by the way her fingers traced the pages, her lips moving slightly as if whispering to the words. He didn’t know her name, but something about her felt like a variable he needed to solve.

The next day, fate—or perhaps the chaotic scheduling of NIT’s timetable—threw them together in an elective course on Artificial Intelligence. Arjun, usually seated at the back, took a bold step and slid into the chair beside her. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, his voice betraying a nervousness he hadn’t expected.

Nisha looked up, her dark eyes meeting his with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Only if you’re here to actually learn and not just copy notes,” she teased, her smile disarming.

Arjun grinned. “Challenge accepted. But I warn you, I’m terrible at neural networks.”

“Then you’re in luck,” she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m kind of a nerd for them.”

That was the beginning. Over the next few weeks, their conversations grew from class notes to late-night canteen chats over filter coffee and vada. The NIT campus, with its sprawling lawns and quiet corners, became their canvas. They’d sit by the Lotus Pond, where dragonflies danced over the water, discussing everything from machine learning to their favorite Telugu movies. Arjun learned that Nisha was from Hyderabad, loved old Ilaiyaraaja songs, and had a knack for sketching intricate circuit diagrams as if they were art. Nisha discovered that Arjun, despite his laid-back demeanor, had a passion for coding that rivaled her own and a laugh that made her heart skip a beat.

The monsoon deepened, and so did their bond. One evening, as rain lashed the campus, they found themselves stranded at the SAC (Student Activity Centre). The power was out, and the only light came from their phone screens and the occasional flash of lightning. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, they shared a packet of biscuits, their shoulders brushing. “You know,” Arjun said, his voice soft, “I used to think NIT was just about grades and placements. But now… it feels like something else entirely.”

Nisha tilted her head, her eyes searching his. “What’s changed?”

“You,” he said simply, and the air between them shifted, charged with unspoken possibilities.

But love at NIT wasn’t without its challenges. The pressure of assignments, midterms, and coding hackathons began to creep in. Arjun, juggling a project for his professor, missed a few of their usual meetups. Nisha, buried in her own lab work, felt the distance grow. One night, during a heated argument outside the girls’ hostel, she snapped, “You’re always so caught up in your world, Arjun. Do I even matter?”

His heart sank. “Nisha, you’re the only thing that makes sense in this chaos. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.”

She looked away, rain mingling with the tears she tried to hide. “I just… I don’t want to be an afterthought.”

“You’re not,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re the reason I look forward to waking up.”

The words hung between them, raw and real. Nisha’s resolve softened, and she let him pull her into a hug, the rain soaking them both. They stood there, under the flickering streetlight, promising to make time for each other, no matter the deadlines.

As the semester rolled on, they found their rhythm again. They studied together in the library, their books and laptops spread out like a shared universe. During the annual fest, Spring Spree, they danced under the stars to a local band’s rendition of “Ye Hawa Ke Jhonke.” Arjun, usually shy about dancing, let Nisha drag him onto the makeshift stage, her laughter infectious. Later, they sneaked away to the rooftop of the Mechanical Engineering block, a spot rumored to have the best view of the campus. The night was clear, the stars bright against the Warangal sky.

“Nisha,” Arjun said, his voice steady but nervous, “I don’t know what the future holds—placements, jobs, maybe different cities. But I know I want you in it.”

She turned to him, her eyes reflecting the starlight. “Arjun, you’re my favorite algorithm—complex, unpredictable, but worth every step to figure out.”

He laughed, pulling her close. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a ‘we’ll figure it out together,’” she whispered, and they sealed it with a kiss, the campus sprawling below them like a silent witness to their story.

By the time the semester ended, Arjun and Nisha had become a quiet legend at NIT Warangal—not for grand gestures, but for the way they balanced love with ambition, finding moments of magic amid the grind. The monsoon had passed, but their melody lingered, woven into the fabric of the campus, where every corner held a memory of their beginning.