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She Borrowed My Pen, I Stole Her Heart

ANKIT_7777
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: The Borrowed Pen

The first thing I noticed about her was not her face.

It was her pen.

Blue ink. Transparent body. A tiny crack near the cap.

The kind of pen you'd borrow and never return… unless you were careful with people's things.

Excuse me… do you have an extra pen?

Her voice was soft, almost shy. I looked up from my notebook and saw her standing beside my desk, fingers twisting around her bag strap. New student. I was sure of it. New faces always looked lost in our classroom jungle.

Yeah, I said, pulling one from my pouch. Here.

Our fingers brushed when she took it.

Just for a second.

But it felt like someone had pressed pause on the world.

Thank you, she smiled. I'm… Aanya.

Rohan, I replied, suddenly very aware of my heartbeat.

She took the empty seat in front of me. All period, I couldn't focus on history. My eyes kept drifting to the way her hair fell over her shoulder when she wrote, how she bit her lip when she thought, how carefully she used my pen.

At the end of class, she turned around.

I'll return it after lunch, she said quickly, like she was afraid I'd accuse her of stealing it.

It's okay, I said. It writes better with you.

I didn't mean to say that.

Her cheeks turned pink.

Lunch break came with noise and chaos. I sat under my usual tree, pretending to revise. She walked toward me slowly, holding the pen like a treasure.

Your pen, she said.

I took it. So… how's the school?

Big, she laughed. And scary.

Don't worry, I said. It only looks dangerous.

She hesitated. Can I sit?

I nodded.

We didn't talk much. Just small things. Subjects. Teachers. Her old school. My dream of becoming an engineer. Her dream of becoming a writer.

You like writing? I asked.

She nodded. Stories… poems… things I can't say out loud.

Something about that stayed with me.

The bell rang again.

From that day, she started sitting in front of me.

From that day, I started carrying extra pens.

From that day, school felt different.

Not because of exams.

Not because of teachers.

But because one girl borrowed my pen…

…and slowly, without asking,

borrowed my heart too.