Narration:
Days turned into weeks.
Spring sunlight poured gently through the dorm window, painting everything golden, but Hanaya's heart still felt cold.
Two weeks had passed since that night —
Two weeks since she last saw his name in the chat.
Every morning, she woke with the same thought —
> "Did he eat breakfast today?"
Every night, before sleeping, her heart whispered —
> "Is he still sick? Is he lonely?"
She didn't understand why it hurt so much.
He was just a little boy — five years old.
And yet, her heart missed him like a mother misses her child... or maybe, something even deeper.
Scene: College Classroom
The room buzzed with voices and laughter.
Friends were chatting, someone dropped a pen, and sunlight stretched across the classroom floor.
Hanaya sat by the window, quietly tracing her finger along the rim of her cup, lost in thought.
Malaa leaned on her desk, raising an eyebrow.
She was a bright, lively girl — shoulder-length chestnut hair, green eyes that always seemed curious, wearing a pastel yellow hoodie and denim skirt.
Malaa: "Hanaya, are you even listening to me?"
Hanaya: "Huh? Oh… sorry. I was just thinking."
Malaa: "About him again?"
Hanaya: "Maybe…"
Malaa sighed, tapping her pen against the desk.
Malaa: "You really can't let go, can you? He was just a kid, Hanaya."
Hanaya (softly): "I know. But… he called me mummy, remember?"
Narration:
That word — mummy — echoed in her chest like a melody she couldn't forget.
The way he said it was full of trust, warmth, and love.
Every night he'd say, 'Good night, mummy', and she'd smile without realizing she was smiling.
Now, there was only silence.
Scene: College Café
Later that day, Hanaya and Malaa sat in their usual spot at the campus café —
a small place near the courtyard with a faint smell of coffee and music playing softly in the background.
Hanaya stirred her drink absentmindedly, watching the milk swirl into clouds.
Malaa: "So, there's this new guy in my art class. He asked for my number yesterday."
Hanaya (smiling faintly): "That's nice. What's he like?"
Malaa: "Tall, shy, cute. Maybe I'll say yes. You should find someone too, you know?"
Hanaya (laughing softly): "Me? I don't think I could."
Malaa tilted her head.
Malaa: "Still thinking about your 'little fan', huh?"
Hanaya: "It's not like that. I just… can't explain it."
Narration:
She wanted to say — He wasn't just a fan.
He was the first person who made her feel needed.
The first one who made her want to wake up early, go live, and smile.
Now, even her favorite café felt quieter, lonelier.
Scene: Evening Walk
That evening, Hanaya walked home alone.
The streets were bathed in golden light, the sky painted orange and pink.
She looked up and whispered softly:
> "If you can hear me, please… eat properly, okay?
Don't stay up late. Don't cry alone again."
Her voice trembled, carried away by the wind.
Narration:
People walked past without noticing her tears.
But somewhere inside her, she felt warmth —
as if the boy who once called her mummy was smiling back through the f
ading light.
For that moment, silence didn't feel empty.
It felt like love.
Author note
Hey, listen up… 😅
Forgive me, okay? I sneaked in two extra chapters today because my Wi-Fi was on the verge of death. So zoom through them before it disappears! And if nothing shows up at home… just blame it on Nepali internet—it officially quit on me. 💛