"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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I came back to my room after the morning exercise, feeling the familiar ache in my muscles. Waking up at 5 AM every day was a strict hostel rule. On the first day, I had skipped it, but eventually, I started following it-it was good for my health, after all.
We ran a few laps on the hostel playground, did some stretching, basic exercises, and ended with yoga. Though exhausting, it left me feeling fresh and energized for the day ahead.
Now back in my room, I quickly grabbed my essentials, mentally preparing myself for college. Today, more than anything, I just wanted to check if my sketchbook was still there.
I skipped breakfast since I wasn't feeling hungry and rushed down the hostel stairs. As I reached the second floor, I spotted Kratika coming from the opposite direction.
"I'm going to the English class," I told her, barely slowing my pace.
"I'm coming too," she replied instantly.
I glanced at her. "At least have breakfast first."
She rolled her eyes. "No thanks. That boring hostel breakfast? I'd rather wait for lunch."
I shook my head, knowing this was typical Kratika. Without wasting more time, we made our way toward the hostel gate, my mind still occupied with only one thing-my sketchbook.
Reaching the classroom, my heart pounded as I rushed to the same bench where I had left my sketchbook. I bent down, searching frantically, running my hands along the lower bench, hoping to feel its familiar texture.
Nothing.
I checked the nearby benches, my desperation growing with each passing second. Still, nothing.
Disappointment hit me like a wave, and my vision blurred as tears formed in my eyes. I lost it forever.
The one thing that mattered the most-the one thing my little brother had gifted me with so much love-was gone.
"Hey, hey, don't cry," Kratika said softly, holding my hands. "It was just a sketchbook. You can buy another one."
I shook my head, my voice breaking. "No, Kratika. It wasn't just a sketchbook. It was a gift from my brother... he saved up to buy it for me. It was so precious to me. And now, I've lost it forever."
She fell silent, understanding the depth of my words. Without saying anything, she reached into her bag, pulled out a water bottle, and handed it to me.
"Drink," she said gently.
I took it with trembling hands, my throat tightening. Taking small sips, I tried to calm myself, but the ache of losing something so close to my heart refused to fade.
Kratika gently made me sit on the bench before settling beside me. I sniffled, my emotions overwhelming me, but she stayed by my side, her presence a silent comfort. She spoke in a soothing tone, trying to console me, her warmth seeping into my shattered state. Minutes passed, and slowly, the weight on my chest began to lift. I wiped my eyes, taking a deep breath-her presence had calmed the storm within me.
