↟Vivaan↡
I stumbled over a small rock on the road as I walked up to my office. My mind was definitely not on the office building I was walking into. In fact, I almost resented having to go to work at all.
That was unlike me. Yes, I wanted to be free to travel, but I tried to make the most of where I was. Life had dealt me some rough blows, but I was always grateful for the constants in my life, my job being one of them.
My shoes squeaked on the polished floor, announcing my arrival before I could even get to my office. I couldn't wait to get past the sterile entrance and escape to my own area, where my shoes wouldn't make a sound.
'Sir,' the receptionist called after me. I groaned; so much for a quick escape. I turned to her, with what I hoped seemed like a genuine smile. It wasn't her fault that at this very moment, I hated my job. 'I have several messages for you. Your voice mail box is full again.'
Now, my smile was not faked. 'I'm sorry,' I said apologetically. 'I appreciate you taking the messages.'
'It's quite all right,' she said happily. I reached out and, as I took the slips of paper from her hand, her fingers brushed against mine. It occurred to me how attractive the receptionist was, but that was not where my interest was focused.
The woman crowding my mind was the young woman who had sat in front of me during Arjun Mehra's talk the other day, the same woman who was breathlessly talking to the café manager a short time ago.
I did not go back to the café seeking her out; at least, that's what I told myself. I merely wanted the best cup of coffee in the district.
But she was there when I arrived.
I was almost disappointed when she did not notice me, but after I sat down, I caught wisps of her conversation with Kabir.
I want to spend hours beside a rushing river, feeling the wind in my hair and listening to the secrets hidden in the waves.
It has been a long-time dream of mine and, as I set out to do this, I realize that this must be what it feels like to be a baby bird, perched on the edge of its nest, ready and anxious to fly to other places.
Kabir spoke the words, but in my mind, I heard her voice echoing as the sentences replayed like a favourite song.
The words could have been written for me, I mused as I sat down in my soft leather chair, immediately pivoting to look out the window. But that's foolish. She couldn't know my heart's desires.
As she and Kabir had talked, I could hear the hesitation in her voice. She lacked the courage to present the talent that she possessed. I hoped she wouldn't give up; I could sense her writing was as much her dream as travelling was mine.
I blushed, thinking about the impulsive note I had left for her. BEAUTIFUL. It was meant to be taken one of two ways: her writing definitely had a deep beauty to it. But as spellbound as I was by her words, I was even more drawn to the girl.
She was petite, I laughed as I recalled, but amazing. The night she sat in front of me, I stared long and hard at her back, silently begging her to turn around. Her thin legs were tucked delicately under her chair, and I couldn't stop thinking about the soft brown skin that was too hidden by her flowing blue skirt.
But, mostly, I wanted to lose myself in her deep twin dimples and her dark eyes. Barely noticeable when she was concentrating, her brilliant smile brought multiple layers to her face. Like two angels were kissing her at the same time.
I shook my head to clear her image from my mind. I vowed to go back the next day, to see if she had any reaction to the hastily-written note I'd asked the waitress to hand her.
I'd hurried away before; I would not hurry away a third time. I wanted to learn more about this blossoming writer in the café.