It's been 10 minutes since I've been sitting here holding my pen but no ideas passing my mind. Before it used to be so easy, I would get ideas instantly. But now I can't even find the will to sit and write. Am I losing my passion on writing too? How many things do I have to lose till I find happiness? I sighed and looked at the ceiling, is living really worth it? I checked the time it's 12:30, lost time on contemplating again.
I already showered at night so I'll skip it now. I took out my favorite lavender sundress. It complimented my purple eyes perfectly. I can sound so narcissistic sometimes haha. I suddenly feel like dressing up. I'll put on makeup today, it's been long since I've dressed beautifully. I winged my liner extra sharp today, I wore a tinted balm and put on a rosy blush. I'll keep my hair down, don't have the energy to tie it. Finally done. I clicked a picture and sent it to Eliza. She replied instantly.
Eliza: You look gorgeous omgggg!!!!!
I smiled a little, it felt good.
After putting some food on Leo's tray, I left for bus stop. It takes 20 minutes bus ride to Colombia Café. As soon as I reached the bus stop, the bus arrived. Only one double-seat was empty so I sat there hoping no one sat beside me. How did I even expect that with my luck? In the next stop, a guy got up and sat beside me. I gotta admit he is quite attractive. He had this unusual aura which made me stare at him. He looked at me and our eyes met. I looked away instantly but his face was pinned in my mind. His teal eyes looked perfect with the cold beige hair. His hair tied up in man bun, leaving few strands which framed his sharp face. He looked like a man sent from heaven.
But I felt uncomfortable, I could feel his gaze on me. Was he really? I tried to look at him from corner of my eyes and my intuition was right, he was looking at me. Not exactly at me he was looking at my hands. I always wore full sleeve cause of the scars I've made in my hand. But today my sleeves were quite loose and the newest wound I made on myself was visible. Is he judging me seeing how deep it is? Does he think I'm some kind of weird girl who finds joy from this? I hid my scar under my sleeves, as soon as I did he looked at me and asked me a strange question. "Are you alright?" His face didn't have any expression but his voice was gentle, but it's very awkward when a stranger sees your scar and asks you how you're doing.
"Huh?" What should I reply anyway but he repeated the same question. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." I tried to keep a cold attitude. "If you don't mind but the wound in your hand seems new, so I asked if you're alright." I just replied with a simple hmm. He still kept talking, "I'm a psychiatrist so I get concerned everytime I see someone battling mental illness." Did he just called me ill? I glared at him coldly. "I'm sorry if I'm too upfront.."