And just like that, Dev became a part of my everyday routine. Whenever our timings aligned, we’d board the bus together—talking about the mundane, laughing over small things, sharing silences that didn’t feel awkward. It was easy with Dev. Familiar. Safe.
One evening, while waiting for the bus, something shifted.
I spotted him.
The same glasses. The same calm. The same silence. The stillness he carried with him—like the world around him could crash, and he still wouldn’t flinch.
I froze.
The more I tried to shake off thoughts of him, the more they seemed to cling to me. It wasn’t just his looks—it wasn’t the way the sunlight seemed to turn him into something otherworldly. It was something deeper. A pull. An inexplicable curiosity. And the more I fought it, the more insistent it became.
I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but he intrigued me in ways I didn’t want to be intrigued. Was it the way he stood so perfectly still, in a world that never seemed to stop moving? Was it the quiet strength in his presence, like he could hold the weight of everything around him without breaking a sweat?
I couldn’t decide. It was easier not to try.
“The universe is really playing games with me,” I muttered under my breath.
Dev noticed my eyes lingering. He followed my gaze, curious. “Wait… is he the guy you were talking about the other day?”
My breath caught in my throat. My pulse jumped. How do I explain that he’s the very thought keeping me up these days?
“No,” I said too quickly. “No, he’s not the one. Why?”
Dev tilted his head, thoughtful. “He’s from the same locality as you. And he’s in the next class. Same stream too.”
Oh, wow. Now the universe wasn’t just playing games—it was drawing blueprints, laying a whole elaborate path I never asked for. First, I see him. Then, I learn he’s practically around me all the time. And now he’s connected to Dev?
Coincidence? Fate? It was getting harder to tell.
So I made a decision. A stubborn, childish one. I would ignore him. Walk past him without a glance. Pretend he didn’t exist. But deep down, I knew—I knew—his existence wasn’t something I could ignore. Not anymore.
The more I tried to shake the thoughts of him, the tighter they gripped me. It wasn’t just about his looks—although, yes, the sunlight did dance on his hair in ways that felt almost cinematic. It wasn’t just the quiet charm or the fact that he never smiled. It was something deeper.
A pull. An inexplicable gravity.
He stood still in a world that never stopped moving, and somehow, that stillness spoke louder than words ever could. He seemed to hold the weight of everything around him without letting any of it show. That quiet strength fascinated me.
And every morning, like clockwork, I saw him again—waiting at the same spot for the bus. Calm. Composed. Distant. I pretended not to notice, not to care. But my heart betrayed me every time. That familiar flutter in my chest returned without fail.
What was he thinking behind those hazel eyes? Did he ever notice me the way I noticed him?
Now, it’s become part of mine and Dev’s routine to board the bus together. And it’s become part of my routine to scan for him. To catch a glimpse. To wonder. He never talks to anyone. No loud jokes. No eye contact. Just him and the window, with the breeze playing through his hair like he belonged to another world.
And then came the day that shook my silent reverie.
Dev—out of all people—chose to sit next to him.
I watched, surprised, as they started talking. Actually talking. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their words flowed easily. Something about it felt... strange. And for a moment, I just stood there, quietly watching them talk like old friends.
After Dev got down, I walked back to school alone, questions lingering in my head.
School was its usual mess of noise and chaos. But amidst the crowd, I had my people—Sara, Maya, Sanvi, Zara, Reine, Celine, and Anaya. Our group was loud, dramatic, and always in motion. We shared stories over packed lunches, sang nursery rhymes just to annoy the others (mostly me and Sara), clicked endless photos and videos, and found joy in each other's chaos.
Each of them brought something unique—Maya, the quiet listener with the warmest smile; Reine, a child at heart but mature when it counted; Celine, always armed with witty remarks and those borderline-flirty jokes; Zara and Anaya, with their endless energy; and Sanvi, our little spark who, unfortunately, fell ill more often than not. But when she was there, she lit up the room.
With them, life felt lighter. Happiness didn’t have to be searched for—it just was.
And then one day, out of nowhere, Celine leaned toward me and asked, “Hey, how tall do you think Dev is?”
I blinked. “Uh… around 6 ft, I guess? Why?”
She smirked. “No reason. Just… tall guys are my type.”
I stared at her. Something about her tone made my stomach twist.
Later that evening, Dev and I had agreed to meet at the bus stop. We were both running late. The usual group of Jacobians lingered around, throwing glances my way. I hated that—the feeling of being watched.
And then, through the crowd, I spotted Dev walking toward me.
But he wasn’t alone.
Beside him was him. The boy with the hazel eyes and unreadable expressions. The one who had unknowingly taken up space in my thoughts for days.
I couldn’t escape the feeling that the universe was pushing me to see him, to notice him. Was it fate? Or just coincidence? But what if, somewhere, deep inside, I already knew the answer? What if I was meant to notice him, to confront that unexpected warmth I felt when he was near, to face that curiosity that I couldn't quite push down? As I stood there at the bus stop, pretending not to look, pretending not to care, I felt something shift. Maybe it was time to stop pretending.
Dev approached with that casual grin of his and said, “Sorry for the delay. Oh, by the way—this is Prajwal. Same grade, same stream as mine. We’re just in different classes.”
Prajwal.
The name landed softly, but it echoed somewhere deeper. Somehow, it fit him. Short, grounded. Like him—quiet, but not forgettable.
I smiled politely, pushing away the storm inside. “Hey. I’m Sanvya. From Peters.”
He gave me a brief nod. No smile. No expression. Just… a nod.
Not cold. Not rude. Just detached.
Dev, with the subtle grace of a wrecking ball, added, “She’s from the same locality as you, by the way.”
I shot him a look that screamed Dev, shut up, but he just grinned, all innocence and zero awareness.
The bus rolled in with a familiar screech, saving us from the tension crackling in the air. But not for long.
But Dev, being Dev, wasn’t done just yet.
He turned to Prajwal like it was the most casual thing in the world. “Why don’t you both go together? I’ve got to run a quick errand—won’t take long.”
I blinked. Wait. What?
Time froze for half a second. My mind spun faster than I could form words. My eyes instinctively flicked to Prajwal.
There was a moment—a pause I wished meant something. Maybe he’d say yes. Maybe this was the universe setting up another scene, one where we’d finally exchange more than half-smiles and silence.
But instead, he shook his head lightly, gaze still on Dev.
“No, it’s fine,” he said, his voice quiet, steady. “I’ll come with you.”
And that was it.
No glance in my direction. No hesitation. Just a simple, indifferent answer that somehow hit like a cold wave.
My chest tightened in a way I didn’t want to admit. Not because I expected anything… but maybe, deep down, I did.
I cleared my throat and spoke before my disappointment could betray me. “It’s okay. I can go back alone.”
And without waiting for a response—because I didn’t trust myself to stay composed—I stepped onto the bus.
I kept my head high, my expression neutral. But inside, it felt like something fragile had quietly splintered.
I chose the window seat near the middle, tucked myself into the corner like I always did, and let my bag rest beside me like it could shield me from the sting.
I told myself not to look back.
I really tried not to.
But, of course, I did.
I turned, just a little, just enough to catch a glimpse of him standing there. Still and quiet, as always. The soft glow of the setting sun touched his features, painting shadows along the curve of his cheek, catching in the strands of his hair the wind liked to tease. He looked like he belonged to another world—one that didn’t need loud voices or small talk.
And I hated that I noticed. Hated that I still hoped he’d look back.
He didn’t.
The bus jolted forward, and the moment disappeared in the rearview mirror.
I leaned my forehead against the cool windowpane, exhaling slowly. My reflection looked back at me—eyes a little too full, lips pressed into a line, as if trying to keep in all the things I couldn’t say aloud.
Does he think about me?
Does he even know I exist beyond Dev’s passing introductions?
Am I just another blurry face in his peripheral vision?
I closed my eyes and tried to laugh at myself. Maybe this was all just teenage melodrama. A crush inflated by quiet mornings and too many near-encounters. A fantasy painted in stolen glances and imagined meanings.
But still… that pull remained. Soft. Subtle. Persistent.
He might be a boy of few words, but somehow, he’d said too much without speaking at all.
And I didn’t know how to stop listening.
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