"Why are you always smiling at me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with curiosity and a hint of frustration.
He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Because," he said, taking a step closer, "you're the only thing worth...
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As I stepped into my hostel room, I couldn't help but feel the quiet of the space, almost like a new beginning. I placed my bag on the bed, feeling the weight of the journey lift off my shoulders for a moment. Opening my trolley bag, I pulled out a fresh pair of trousers and a comfortable t-shirt. There was something satisfying about the simple act of getting settled. I took a moment to breathe before diving into the task of cleaning the room. Unpacking my bags felt like a small ritual, each item I put away making the room feel more like my own.
I carefully removed the hostel sheets and pillow covers, placing them into the bucket to wash, already feeling a sense of familiarity as I worked. It was time to make the room feel like home. I reached into my bag, pulling out the bed sheet and pillow covers my Mumma had packed for me. The soft fabric felt comforting in my hands, a little piece of home. I also took out the tablecloths she had thoughtfully included, knowing they would add a personal touch to the room. With each new item, the room slowly started to feel more like my own space, just the way I liked it.
I carefully arranged my things on the table-my candle, books, sketchbook, laptop, tablet, and the colors and pencils-each item finding its place in the drawers and on the surface. I then turned my attention to my clothes, folding them neatly before placing them in the alimrah, making sure everything was organized after cleaning it. When I looked around the room, it finally felt like my space-everything in order, just the way I wanted. Satisfied with my work, I let out a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day lift off my shoulders. I headed to my bed, stretched out, and allowed myself a moment of rest.
I had just started to drift into a peaceful nap when a knock on the door startled me awake. Groggy, I rubbed my eyes and got up to check who it was. As I opened the door, I was met by a girl standing there, looking a little unsure.
She quickly mentioned that Janvi ma'am had called all the freshers to her room on second floor leaving no time for further explanation. Before I could ask anything, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, a bit confused but curious about what was going on.
I grabbed my keys, locking the door behind me before heading out. I made my way to the second floor, the hallway a little quieter than usual. As I reached the top, I noticed Kratika waving at me, signaling me to come over.
I asked her, "She also called you?" Kratika nodded, confirming it. "Yeah, all the freshers were called," she added, her voice a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. We exchanged a quick glance before heading towards Janvi ma'am's room, both wondering what the meeting was about.
As we walked towards Janvi ma'am's room, Kratika leaned in and whispered, "By the way, I heard there's quite heavy ragging in the girls' hostel. Hope they'll be lenient." Her tone was a little uneasy, and I could sense she was feeling the tension too. We both shared a glance, silently hoping the seniors would be kind and not too harsh.
Kratika, with a slightly nervous laugh, said, "There are so many stories about it. You'll come to my room after this, and I'll tell you all of them." We reached her room and opened the door. As we stepped in, I saw her sitting on the chair. It didn't take me long to recognize her-she was the same girl I had seen with Miss Rude in the canteen earlier.