Ruhan was smart, calm, gentle… the kind of person everyone noticed. Girls whispered, teased, tried to get his attention. But he still sat alone.
Maybe it wasn't that he didn't like people. Maybe it was easier that way. Maybe he didn't need loud company to feel comfortable. Maybe he liked his own quiet, the space to think, the freedom to notice things others missed.
Or maybe… he just didn't need anyone around to prove who he was.
Sitting beside him now, I realized how much I could learn from him. How to stay calm when people teased, how to notice small things, how to be gentle without asking for attention.
He could have sat alone on another bench, like he usually did. He could have joined a group, been anywhere else. But he didn't.
I caught myself staring at the space between our bags, the way his pencil moved on the page. Something in the quiet said he… didn't mind me being here. Not in a loud, obvious way. Just… accepted it.
The lunch bell rang, and the spell of quiet study broke into chatter and laughter.
Some of my friends came by my desk, smiling, asking for some. "Your mom makes the best sabzi," they said.
I shared a little with the girls who hadn't brought their own tiffin. And yes, I always shared the sabzi with all my female friends. It just felt… natural.
Then I picked up a small piece of sabzi and a bit of roti, rolling it gently toward Ruhan's lips.
I hesitated. What if he found it strange? But something about his calm made it feel okay.
He glanced at me, eyebrows raised slightly. I felt my hand tremble a little. When he leaned forward to take it, his lips brushed my fingers. Just a tiny, accidental touch, but it made my chest jump.
He didn't say anything. Just took it carefully and went back to his notebook. Quiet. Calm. Steady.
Sitting there, sharing a little of my mom's food and our half-done project, I realized… I was learning from him. How to be calm, how to notice, how to do small things quietly but meaningfully. And somehow… that felt more important than anything else.
I was learning from him quietly. Maybe he didn't even know he was teaching me.
🖤 by Pragati Priya (pen name: Zoey)
"Some lessons aren't taught. They're felt."
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teaser of ch-5
He broke their pride... and something inside me cracked too.Somehow, the sound of it still echoes when I think of him.
© Zoey_8087 — My story, my words. Reposts and copies? Not allowed.