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How Love Blossomed (Part 1)
Akankha

Didn't applied for the same college that all of my friends get into. Repenting myself; regretting the things I've done. Not being pretty, not being the girl my parents wanted. Too many mistakes, too much wrong steps. Feeling depressed, wanted some time alone. Everything was colorless, yeah! becoming a 18 year girl hit me too hard.
First day at college, don't know anyone nor have the curiosity to know anyone either. Alone in the dead quite library, away from everyone. Just doing my things, bring out my sketchpad and started scribbling, my only comfort in this hellish world.
And then Just like those cliche Bollywood movies, he entered, looking all shiny, smiling brightly, humming a sweet song, full confidences in himself. And me from the corner of the library staring at him like a fool and wishing "if I was like him." He suddenly turned, shocked looking at me. Then he composed himself and started stepping toward me, He stood right before me, I was sitting on the library floor looking up at him with gloomly eyes. he gave me a gentle smile as if we knew each other from before, Extending his hand toward me, He said "hey! I'm Swapnanil, first year student. You?"
I just sat there like an idiot, I rubbed my eyes. Cuz I'm probably dreaming. A handsome face, a cute smile, a gentle behavior. "Why would he approach me?" overthinking inside my mind. My heart fluttered by some pretty thoughts. Not in the hell this could happen to me. It's tottaly a sence out of a movie. When the hero and heroine meets each other. Their brief encounter which leads to a heartwarming lovestory. Cuz he just fits the role of a protagonist. But I do not. And I've a feeling in my heart that This interaction with him could lead to something big, I don't want to repeat same mistakes no more regrets. But this foolish self of mine have longed for that gentle smile far too long to reject his extended hand. While Siting there I held his hand and with Stuttering words I said "A-Akankha, am first year too."
And it was not long when I regretted holding his extended hand.

Continued in next part ...
© Night owl