𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
What happens when
𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐑𝐀 - the girl who mastered the art of being unseen,
stitched together with silence and scar tissue,
haunted by the ruins of love and friendsh...
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"I don't know, I just said it," she whispered before confessing,
"Actually, yes," she said, gazing out of the window.
She looked so cute when she was shy. I smiled at her and then turned my head in the other direction, only to find Laksh clenching his teeth as if he had lost control of his life.
And he wasn't even trying to mask it anymore.
He was pissed.
At me. At her.
At the comfort blooming between us.
The bastard.
Samayara looked flustered. And I—well, I gave up pretending I could sleep. Clearly, that was a lost cause.
"I'm feeling nauseous, Samayara," I muttered, pressing my head back against the seat.
Her face turned toward me instantly, eyes wide with concern.
"I'm sorry, I..."
God, this girl. She carried guilt like it was stitched into her soul.
"It's not your fault. I'm just starving. When are they going to serve food?" I groaned, not even recognising my own voice. Since when did I sound like this around someone?
But before the thought could fully land, her worried face broke into a laugh—loud, bright, unfiltered.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"You're so unpredictable," we both said at the same time.
Our laughter melted into the air between us, and she explained how ridiculous I sounded, blaming nausea on hunger when I clearly had motion sickness.
Which was fair. I do. But when I'm hungry, nothing else matters. It's not a habit. It's a full-blown condition. I physically can't ignore hunger.
The conductor's voice crackled through, announcing snacks.
Zedan, one of the council members, appeared at our seats like clockwork, and we jumped into the logistics.
I clapped to get everyone's attention. "We'll be provided with snacks in 10 minutes. You'll receive them at your seat, so no one's allowed to get up," I announced before Zedan and I stepped out of the bus.
Together with the other council members, we loaded the snacks onto the bus, thanked the helpers, and got back in.
I asked Samayara to help us. Something about her always felt like she was waiting for someone to tell her she belongs. And I figured... maybe I could be that someone.
She arranged the food kits while Zedan and I distributed them.
Zedan announced about extra food and trash before returning to his seat, while Samayara and I organized our food kits and followed him.
