“Do you always stare at people like that?” his voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, snapping me back to reality. I blinked, completely caught off guard. He stood just a few feet away, his gaze unwavering, a curious smile tugging at his lips. The room was buzzing faintly with quiet conversations, yet the moment his voice broke through, everything else faded like background noise.
I was confused about what was happening. For a minute, I couldn't realize he was talking to me. My mind and heart weren't syncing. I could feel the awkwardness in me.
And, the heat rose to my cheeks instantly. Oh God, I thought. He noticed. I could feel the rush of embarrassment flooding through me, but I quickly tried to mask it. “Staring? No, I—I wasn’t staring,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady. I am sure he didn't buy it, I stood there silently contemplating what would happen next.
“Really?” His eyebrow arched playfully. “Because it looked a lot like staring.”
“Well…maybe I was just observing, you know...” I responded, lifting my chin a little, feeling my confidence returning in tiny, hesitant waves. “Umm... for inspiration.”
“For inspiration?” he repeated, folding his arms across his chest. He had a witty smile as if he knew I was lying or trying to hide my truth. There was something so effortlessly confident in the way he moved like he didn’t even have to try. His gaze never left mine, making it impossible for me to look away. “Are you writing a book on awkward glances, then?” He chuckled and nodded slightly, waiting for me to revert.
A nervous laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. “No! I—It’s just that…I’m a writer. Writers observe things, don’t they? And that's what I have been doing.”
“Hmm.” He tilted his head slightly as if he were considering my explanation. “Is that so? Well then, Miss Writer, what have you observed about me?”
I could feel the wave of nervousness, slowly rising in me. Oh no, I thought, the rush of panic creeping in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to be talking to him—much less analyzing him in front of his own eyes! But the way he stood there, with that charming smile, was drawing me in. Something inside me rebelled against the instinct to shy away. I wanted him to know how confident I could be, for once, casting a positive effect on him.
“You seem…calm,” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. “And confident. Like the kind of person who never loses his composure. Someone who deals with great challenges in a much easier way.”
His smile widened slightly, and he took a small step closer. “Interesting,” he murmured softly, his voice low. “Go on.”
I swallowed hard. Unable to process if this is how the conversation is supposed to be, but without giving it too much thought I continued. “But,” I added, “you also look…bored. Like you’re here, but your mind is somewhere else. I noticed how much you run towards your phone from time to time.”
The playful expression in his eyes wavered, just for a moment. “Bored?” he echoed, sounding genuinely surprised. “Now that’s a new one. I didn't think of it. Hmm...”
“Well, you asked,” I pointed out, shrugging in what I hoped was a calm manner. “I just call it as I see it. That's what I am supposed to do, right?”
“Well, yeah. Fair enough,” he agreed, nodding slowly. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he was trying to see through me. “And why, exactly, does my…boredom fascinate you? Or is the curiosity about the thing that ties me to the phone, is it?”
It was my turn to be surprised. “I—what? No, it doesn’t fascinate me!” I blurted, shaking my head with all my emotions. But even as the words left my mouth, I knew they sounded unconvincing.
“Doesn’t it?” he asked softly, leaning in ever so slightly. The space between us seemed to shrink, and I found myself holding my breath, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. I knew I couldn't make eye contact with him anymore. He was so close that my heart stopped beating, I was no longer able to think rationally. Why was he doing this? What was he thinking? He was so close, that the scent of his perfume lingered in the air between us. Ah, it was good.
“I—” My voice faltered, caught somewhere between denial and confession. The air felt charged, electric, like something was about to happen. I could almost feel the shift, the pull of something unspoken, something neither of us was quite willing to name. The attraction felt magnetic- impossible to resist, if only I had a chance to hold him, I wouldn't let go. I could sense the tension between us, but none of us was ready to pull away.
“Because,” he continued quietly, his gaze fixed, “you seem to have been…watching me for a while now, haven’t you?”
“I—” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. He was right, of course. I had been watching him. Every place I'd get a chance, every stolen glance, every time I’d tried to pretend I wasn’t looking at him, he’d probably noticed. But I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. Not like this. How could I? After all, I couldn't let myself appear so desperate in his eyes. I had respect to maintain and a position to hold. Before I could say anything...
He smiled again, softer this time. “It’s okay, I don't think it was an act of desperation,” he said gently. “I don’t mind it at all.”
WHAT? Did he read my mind or something? How did he know I was thinking I might appear desperate? Was I desperate? Did I appear so? My face dimmed into the confusing ball of thoughts. And, well something in his voice made my breath hitch. “You…don’t mind? Why? Isn't it supposed to be weird, how I hold my glance at you?”
“No,” he repeated, shaking his head slightly. His gaze softened, the intensity melting into something almost tender. “I don’t mind at all. It isn't supposed to be weird, you know. You don't have to think too much. Just Relax.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The room around us seemed to blur into the background, leaving just the two of us, caught in this strange, unexpected moment.
“Why?” I asked finally, my voice barely a whisper. “Why don’t you mind?”
“Because,” he said simply, “I’ve been watching you too. I notice you too, does that answer your question?”
I stared at him, stunned. My heart skipped a beat, and then another. He had been—what?
“But why?” I breathed, unable to process his words. “Why would you…?”
“Why not?” he countered softly, taking another step closer. His presence seemed to fill the space around me, warm and steady and achingly real. “Maybe I’m just…curious.” The heat radiating off him was almost tangible, as if I could reach out and feel the warmth of his presence even without touching. His charm had me captivated.
I blinked, bewildered. “Curious…about what?”
He smiled again, that small, secretive smile that seemed to hold a world of unspoken meanings. His eyebrows moved as he smiled, showing the depth of thought he was putting into this. “About the girl who’s always watching, but never talks. About the writer who thinks she can hide behind her pen. But fails to do so. You know, I am intrigued by how you managed to catch my eye amidst all the crowd. I can't emphasize how much of a big deal it is for me. I knew you wouldn't talk, so I took the matters into my own hands.”
My breath caught. “I—”
“Maybe,” he murmured, “I want to know what you’re thinking. What you’re really thinking.”
His words wrapped around me like a spell, drawing me in, and pulling me closer. It was all I could do to keep standing there, rooted to the spot, staring up at him like some helpless deer caught in the headlights. I had no idea that he was noticing me too. The guy I spent hours waiting for just to exchange a hello, was noticing me all this while. I had no idea what to say or think anymore.
“Or,” he added softly, leaning in until our faces were just inches apart, “maybe I just want to know you. The whole you...”
And with that, he stepped back, his eyes never leaving mine. “So, what do you say?” he asked quietly. “Care to tell me what you’re thinking, Miss Writer?”
My heart was pounding, my thoughts a chaotic swirl of emotions. But somehow, I managed to smile—just a little, just enough.
“Maybe,” I whispered. “If you’re willing to share what you’re thinking too.”
He grinned, the warmth in his gaze making my pulse race even faster. “It’s a deal.”
And just like that, everything was about to change.
Beautiful