The next few days I did not see him. At least not right away. Then one day there he was, sitting in the upper portion, right along the path I always walked.
And I made the blunder of looking at his face. Again. And again. Almost every time I passed, my eyes flicked toward him. And almost every time, he noticed.
My dressing had started getting better too. A little more effort, a little more thought. If he was smart enough, he would have realized by now. And if he really was smart, maybe he should have left, because if he stayed my heart definitely would not.
~
The next time I came with my brother. By some twist of fate, my brother sat in the chair directly behind him. Naturally I did what anyone in my situation would do. I sat right next to my brother just so I could see him more clearly.
That was the first time I really noticed him properly. He was working on something, dressed in light gray. And so was I. I did not usually put effort into dressing for the library, but for some reason that day I had. A brand new gray sweater, my first time wearing it, and it matched his. Exactly. Cute, right? Maybe even fate.
But to be fair, I did have a small crush on someone else at that time too. So I told myself he was just a pretty face, someone who rarely showed up anyway since he hardly came once a week. Nothing serious. Just a face in the crowd. Out of my league, really. I was studying for finals and wasting time on him was not in the plan.
Still I could not help myself. I made random excuses to talk to my brother just so I could sneak another glance at the boy behind him.
The funny thing was, he was practically just staring into space most of the time. Barely doing anything. I even thought maybe he was autistic, or maybe just very young and forced to study by his parents. Because he did not really work, he just sat, staring, or sometimes left. And since I was grinding so hard in those days, that kind of detachment stood out to me. Strange. Peculiar. And in some twisted way, intriguing.
~(writing on 19/2/25, not sure about order of events)
Since I never had my glasses, I could not always tell who was who. So I started recognizing him by other things. His walk, his gait, his hair. The way his silhouette stood out even when everything else looked blurry. That is how I identified him. And I was right most of the time.
I would see him here and there. Just random glimpses. Nothing major. I was too busy with exams anyway, too focused on studies and too scared to actually approach him. So my memories from that stretch are just fragments, little flashes I strung together.
One day I was eating lunch in my usual favorite spot when I saw him again. This time he came back with a bunch of guys. I assumed those guys were his friends and that he was some extrovert. I could not have been more wrong.
Without my glasses I could not see properly, so I stared too long trying to confirm if it was him. Too long. We made eye contact. I panicked so hard I hid my face, even as he walked right past me.
Later I found out the truth. There was a park nearby. I was embarassed to say the least.