"Okay, here we go. This is your class."
"Thank you." She smiled. Too beautiful and gorgeous, I thought. "By the way, my name is Diksha. And you?"
"I am Abinash." I extended my hand to shake. "You can call me, Abhi."
"Nice to meet you, Abhi. Ohh! Sorry, Abhinash." She bit her tongue. "Are you also in first year?"
"No! Fortunately or unfortunately, I am your senior. The same department."
"Oh! Sorry, bhaiya," she said, biting her tongue. Bhaiya!? please no, I do not want to be her brother. Fuck. No, I do not want to.
"Call me Abhi," I said, smiling. "So, yeah! I should leave. I hope to see you around!" I extended my hand.
"I hope so," she said, smiling warmly and shaking her hand. My heart rate increased.
Damn! I've never felt anything like this in my life. Her appearance is breathtaking. For the first time in my life, I related with those poets who describe beauty. I found myself in that position; I wanted to be there forever and describe her beauty. Beauty that elevates you from the ground to heaven. Her honey-brown eyes and fluttering "eye lashes" quickened my heartbeat. She had a small black bindi on her forehead. Her brown hair cascading down her cheeks, concealing those dimples and that flawless smile that could make anyone fall in love with her. A small mole behind her nose, making her look flawlessly exquisite. The poetic features I could write about it every day and not run out of words. Just as your eyes told a story, I fell for it helplessly, selflessly, and endlessly.
YOU ARE READING
AFTER YOU
RomanceThe story of suffering. The narrative begins with a conversation between the boy and a girl. However, the story abruptly transports us to the boy's past. Numerous stories will be revealed there. Let's explore the realm of "after you" and see. Your e...
