Shaam had just missed his bus. The familiar whoosh of the vehicle leaving him behind made his pulse race.
He glanced at his watch, noting how close he’d been to catching it, but a deep sigh escaped him.
He’d made it a habit to not let things like this bother him anymore.
Life was fast, but sometimes it was good to pause, to let the world rush by while he stayed still for a moment.
The breeze was sharp, teasing the stray locks of hair on his forehead.
He adjusted his jacket and leaned against the pole at the bus stop, hands shoved into his pockets.
The world was a blur of cars and hurried pedestrians, everyone with somewhere to be, but Shaam? He was here, waiting. He wasn’t in a rush anymore.
His eyes flicked to the girl sitting on the bench. She was tucked away in a book, completely absorbed, her fingers tracing the edges of the pages as though she were feeling each word.
Her long hair framed her face, and there was something peaceful about the way she sat, as though the bus stop was her own private space, disconnected from the rest of the world.
The wind picked up again, stronger this time, and as if on cue, the girl’s bookmark was swept away by the breeze.
Shaam watched it dance through the air, floating like a feather, before it finally fluttered down and landed a few feet away from her.
She didn’t notice immediately, still lost in the book.
Without thinking, Shaam bent down to retrieve it. When he straightened up and extended his hand toward her, she finally looked up, her eyes meeting his.
“You’re quick,” she said, surprised but smiling, her voice warm and inviting.
Shaam felt the usual nervousness that came when speaking to a stranger, but there was something about her—her ease, her calm—that made him feel oddly comfortable.
“Guess I just got lucky,” he said, holding the bookmark out to her with a soft, shy smile.
She took it from him, her fingers brushing his for a split second. “Well, I’ll take the luck then.”
There was a playful glint in her eyes. “I’m Suhani,” she said, her voice now light, like a note of music.
“Shaam,” he replied, his heart picking up pace, but in a different way.
Not from anxiety, but from something new. Something that felt like it belonged.
Suhani smiled, that simple gesture lighting up her face, and for a moment, the whole world seemed to pause.
Shaam stood there, watching her with a strange mixture of fascination and intrigue, as though the bus stop had suddenly become the most significant place on earth.
They stood in the quiet hum of the world, but for just a moment, time seemed to slow. The bus could wait.
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