Preksha's POV
Some days had been passed. I am walking through the corridor, thinking about my friendship and flipping through my sketchbook as I walked. As days are passing our friendship is becoming more and more stronger. My world was quiet—until suddenly, I felt a bump.
A boy ran straight into me, and before I could react, my sketchbook slipped from my hands and landed on the floor with a soft thud. Pages flew open, revealing my sketchs.
"Hey, be careful " I said to him.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to." he said quickly, crouching to help me. I knelt too, trying to grab the book before he could see much.
But his hand touched the sketchbook first. His eyes paused, scanning one of the pages.
"Wow..." he murmured. "Did you draw this?"
I snatched the book gently from his hands, flustered.
"Yes... I did," I replied softly, avoiding eye contact.
"Your sketch is amazing," he said, his voice sincere. "Like... really, really good."
"Thanks..." I said, still a bit shaken. I hugged the sketchbook close, my heart fluttering.
I reach my class and sat on my bench.
"Hey, do you know Harshit? I saw you talking to him in the corridor." Anvika asked.
" No. I don't know him. He just ran into me." I explain.
" What was he looking in the book? Was it a sketch book? Was it yours?" Reeva fired the questions.
"Hey, relax. Yes, it was my sketch book. It fell down when he ran into me." I handed them my sketch book "....l sketch sometimes."
Anvika started flipping the pages and giving wow reaction on every sketch. "Your sketching skills are so nice Preksha "
"But you know Preksha, I never saw Harshit talking to any girl before " said Reeva with a mysterious smile.
"What do you mean by that" I ask confusing.
"Nothing. You will not understand right now" Anvika said handing me the sketch book. I was left confused.
" Hey Harshit. Why weren't you picking my call? Where were you from last few days ? I miss you a lot." Said Aarav to Harshit when Harshit entered the class
"I was out of the town for my football match. Sorry, phones where not allowed there." Said Harshit sitting beside Aarav.
I was looking at him and thinking that is he my classmate? But just for a second, our eyes met. My heart beats fast. And he smiled.
"Is she a new student here?" He asked Aarav silently.
"Yes. Her name is Preksha. Transfer few days ago. " Aarav replied. Harshit nodded.
" But why are you asking about her? I never saw you curious for a girl. Hmm" Aarav started teasing him.
" It's not like that. I ran into her in the corridor a moment before. I was just asking. " Harshit explain immediately.
The drone of teacher's voice was a distant hum, a meaningless vibration against the frantic thrumming in my chest. My textbook lay open, a forgotten landscape of facts and figures, but my mind was miles away, adrift in a sea of unspoken feelings. A sigh escaped me, so faint I doubted anyone heard it, yet it felt like a tremor through my very being. I couldn't concentrate.
My hand, seemingly with a will of its own, slipped beneath the desk, seeking the familiar comfort of my worn sketchbook. The smooth paper, the cool graphite – they were my anchors in a world that suddenly felt too vast, too overwhelming. Without conscious direction, my fingers began to move, translating the chaos within into lines and shadows.
A balcony emerged, bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of a crescent moon. Stars, countless and shimmering, sprinkled the inky canvas of the night sky. And there, at the heart of it all, were two figures, their backs to each other, seated far apart yet undeniably connected by the shared expanse of the heavens. Two souls, facing away, yet somehow facing each other in the silent language of distance. Every stroke was imbued with a longing I couldn't name, a yearning for something just out of reach, a reflection of the profound loneliness and inexplicable connection I felt.
The bell shrilled, jolting me back to the stark reality of the lecture hall. "Ooh, so this is why you weren't studying during the lecture!" Anvika's voice, a playful whisper, startled me. She leaned over, her eyes twinkling with amusement, but then her gaze fell upon the open sketchbook.
Before I could react, Dishita, ever the curious one, had snatched it. Her eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, softened as she took in the sketch. A hush fell between us, broken only by her hushed gasp. "I can't imagine," she breathed, her voice laced with genuine awe. "You are so skilled."
A blush crept up my neck. "Thank you," I mumbled, the words feeling inadequate. Anvika, her curiosity piqued, pressed further. "But why this sketch, Preksha? What's the reason behind it?"I paused, searching for an answer, for a logical explanation for the emotional outpouring on the page.
"There's no reason behind it," I finally said, the words feeling hollow even to my own ears. "My hand just... started drawing it. No reason at all."But even as the words left my lips, a tumultuous wave of questions crashed over me. What is happening to my mind? The image of the two distant figures, the moon, the stars – it echoed a feeling I couldn't articulate, a deep, resonant chord that had been struck within me. Is there any connection about me and him? The thought, raw and vulnerable, hung in the air, unspoken yet undeniably present, a silent plea to the universe for understanding.