Unrequited

| Posted in , , , , , | Posted on 8:39 PM

   I wrote this, like, 5 months back. I don't have any more heart in it to edit it or anything, so I'll just post it as it was. :D


Unrequited

   The tuition center had always been a place for him to go and study, and to learn something. So naturally, he felt guilty, if not angry, on having found someone to look at during classes lest he felt bored.
   She wasn't anybody too attractive. Nobody who'd suddenly catch your eye. But yet there she used to be, third row center, and he looked at her whenever he could. He knew he wanted to, and for a change, he didn't mind if at all it was a wrong thing to do.
   He first saw her when their teacher asked her to stand up to answer a few questions. So he looked at her for her response. And he looked at her again; this time without a reason. And he found himself looking at her again. Three times within the time span of her answering a few questions. He found it strange to have done something of the sort. And still, he found himself looking at her, and wanting to look at her, again. And again. And again.
   Slowly and steadily, his interest in her grew. Without tilting his head - owing to his sitting at the back most of the time - he saw her looking at the teacher with a tinge of hope and a glint of anxiety as the papers were being distributed. He saw her smiling vividly, when their teacher cracked a joke. He saw her brush her hair back lightly with her hands, and light reflecting wildly off a ruby she wore on her ring finger. He saw her answering all the questions asked to her by their teacher, without doubt. And he saw her analyzing, with utmost concentration, a physics numerical that she couldn't crack, biting her lips with subdued uneasiness.
   He never talked to her. He never wanted to. He thought it'd break the image of perfection he had of her in his head. So, he never made any attempts. Consciously.
   He knew it wasn't love. It wasn't even an innocent infatuation they way he saw it. Not even a compulsive obsession.
   But whatever it was, it was unrequited.
   * * *
   Before one of their test papers started, the invigilator there made her sit next to him. He flustered and his heart beat violently like a tribal drum when she sat down near him. He wanted the centimeters between them to increase into inches and meters and kilometers, wanting not to get distracted, but there she was - sitting right next to him. He focused all his concentration on the paper, and attempted it with all his heart - ignoring the pleas of his mind to concentrate on something else entirely. 
  His heart yearned for was the person sitting next to him wearing a simple green t-shirt with a graphical heart at the center, and skinny blue jeans with red flip-flops on her feet. The simple attire that she chose for herself complimented her fair face and her gorgeous dark hair. Like cheese and wine; stars and the moon. Her hair fell on her shoulders and her face lightly, as if they were weightless, hiding a part of her cheeks and her long, thin nose. When she moved her fringes from her face to behind her ears in one swift movement, the ruby on her ring finger shone fiercely, as if prompting the person adjacent to stop attempting the paper, and look at the one who bore the ring.
   She turned out to be not as intelligent he hoped she would be - sort of dumb, or blonde, as he referred to her kind, his arrogance to be blamed - and ended up copying almost all of his answers that he'd written on his answer sheet. He didn't mind giving his answers to her, he was helping a blonde after all, and it came as somewhat of a relief that she hadn't yet shown signs of possessing arguable intellect, because that would've made him like her even more. On further introspection he figured she might not have been as dumb as he thought of her after the test, enunciating that the first impression needn't always be the correct one. After all, he'd seen her during the classes, and aside from the fact that she was mind-numbingly beautiful and had a side profile of equal mind-numbing strength, she concentrated during the classes was all that he could conclude.
   At the end of their class, on their way out, she told him she'd have died had it not been for him. He blushed and thanked her. And then whey said their goodbyes, they didn't exchange numbers or even e-mail id's, and he felt relieved. Just her name he knew and he wanted to know nothing more. Facebook was a different deal of course, and he could always choose to not 'befriend' her. A part of him wanted to get closer to her; but that part was nothing more than dust buried underneath a rug, only visible when the rug was removed. 
   * * *
   When their next class started, she hadn't arrived. There was an inexplicable instinct inside him that continually made him look at the door to see if she had. A gush of air seemed to blow past him, and he was quick to figure that it was psychological, when she finally came in. He saw that she hadn't noticed him on her way in, even as she went past other students seated in multiple rows scattered across a room. She brushed her hair back lightly with her hands as she sat down, and he wished he'd been noticed by her. Their physics teacher was firing numericals at a rate his mind could hardly process them, and he decided it was better to concentrate than to look at someone who wasn't of any importance to him. His curiosity and certain unpredictable hormones got the better of him, and he ended up looking at her again. And again, he saw her analyzing, with utmost concentration, a physics numerical that she couldn't crack, biting her lips with subdued uneasiness; like he had, so many times before. He laughed to himself a silly smile, and got back to working on the physics numericals he was to spend the rest of his life with.

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