' A Touch To Remember '

She defined love, though it's undefined. Love is when she believes in God just by witnessing him, at a glance of him. It's pure, divine, sacred, and devotion.

In reality, she could not believe that he was going to sit with her on her scooter. What if the road is crowded? They will get stuck in it for hours. What if the cold breeze passes, touching them? It will be quite romantic. Her heart went on non-stop to the sky.

"Hey! What happened?" His words interrupted her thoughts.

"Nothing. Come. Please be seated." She smiled.

Her heart was beating like normal to the power of infinity. No, it's normal for her when he comes to her and in her thoughts. Isn't it the hardest to hide feelings from the person you love relentlessly?

The road was really busy, and she was shaking from inside as he was sitting, keeping just a few inches gap in between.

"So, where are we heading?" he asked.

"As you say," she replied... (Sweetheart) Her heart screamed voicelessly.

"Stop here. It's the Cookies," he voiced.

In the middle of a highly decorated, slow-music-dim-lighted room, they pulled two chairs and sat.

"So, what do you want to have?" he smiled.

Oh God! His smile and her speechlessness were well-matched.

"I want to have only you. I mean, I want to preserve this smile of yours in the deepest corner of my heart with the highest security-guarded lock code," her thoughts hit her head.

"Hello. Why are you staring at me?" he asked.

"Because you are worth all my stares. You are adorable. You are precious," she slowed her tone.

"What?!" he exclaimed.

"Nothing. I just like it. You are looking cute without a beard, too," she complimented.

"I'm feeling light after shaving, too," he winked.

He ordered some snacks for himself and a cup of tea for her.

She looked at a kid playing next to their table and diverted eye contact. Of course, that kid was cute and naughty. But the main reason was that she sensed feelings of shyness for the first time after he winked.

"Damn! He is naughty, too. The way he does everything leaves an imprint on her soul," she murmured.

He turned to that kid too just to check what I was looking at.

He smiled again, turning to me.

"So, tell me what you want to say. I'm here in front of you. You can say," he stated.

In our meetings, we spend 95% of our time smiling at each other, and the remaining 5% is dedicated to speaking words.

Not to be dishonest, his smile is her world. When he smiles, the air around them pauses to fix them there. He is the constant freshness around. He is like poetry in motion, and she is the artistic heart who waits to throw it on the canvas of her 365 days. He is the words she formulates to draft a letter. He is the lyrics she wants to listen to from his splendid voice. He is the story she wishes to narrate in each birth she takes. For her, falling in love with him is the second best thing; first is he. God is a little unkind and discovered them late. She met him at the age when she had crossed her first pimples years ago, but she would love to worship the devotion she carries for him until her last wrinkle.

"Arre say na. I'm waiting," he commanded in a not-so-commanding way.

"Nothing to say. I have already told you." Her breathing swelled.

"Oh, God. You text countless things, but not a single word in person. Why? Are you a dead introvert or am I someone special?" he raised his eyebrows.

She looked straight into his eyes.

"Of course. You are special and beyond. But, the only thing is that I don't want to name you. Maybe I'm an introvert, but you will understand my sealed lips through my eyes someday. And I'll take all the pride to wait for that day." Her eyes explained this, not her lips.

"Why? Why do you love him? It may be a stupid random crush of yours. You may get hurt," he lowered his voice. He was well aware of her love for him, but somehow he was confused to accept.

"I wish it could be a stupid random crush like my other hundred crushes. I wish I could elucidate why I love," she smiled, hiding her tears.

Nothing new. It happens. What she wants to confess is being diverted to some other topic.

"Okay. Let's go. It's late," she asked.

"Hmm..." he took a deep breath.

"Hey, listen! May I click your pic once? You are looking hot," she winked.

"You are mad. Crazy girl," he nodded.

They came out of the room and stood to cross the road.

How can she forget that moment with him? His first touch, like all her wishes came true without asking for.

It was sharp at 8.15 pm; the watch hanging on her left hand indicated while he asked, standing on her left side, "May I hold your hand if you don't mind?"

She was surprised and driven by his captivating manner. She wanted to forget everything and hug him tight. But she knew he asked it just to cross the road as it was fully packed. She turned to him, and their eyes met. Her eyes hugged his, but he didn't feel it. She reciprocated positively. He clutched his fingers among hers.

It was casually a handshake, but for her, it was his first touch; pure, secure, comfortable, warm, and sensuous, which sent a shiver down her spine.

A car stopped near them due to the red light of the traffic signal, and the waves of a tune touched their ears from the sound system of that halted car.

"Shayad Teri Haan Na Mile

Phir Bhi Humein Teri Na Chahiye..."

A drop of blessedness rolled down from her sense of sight, hiding from him and the crowd.