chapter 3

Then, one fine afternoon, everything shifted again.

As she left college, her attention was caught by a group of boys playing cricket in a nearby ground. Among them was one whose smile shone brighter than the others. His laughter rang out clearly, and he moved with the easy confidence of someone who belonged everywhere.

The first time she noticed him, she kept walking. The second time, she slowed down. By the third time, she was stopping to watch for a few minutes before moving on.

Her heart began to beat differently. The way he tossed his hair back, the way he encouraged his friends with laughter, the way he wiped sweat from his forehead—all of it made her chest feel light and restless at the same time.

At the flower house, the old lady caught on quickly. “Ah,” she said one evening, watching the girl’s absentminded smile, “the roses are not the only reason you hurry here these days, are they?”

The girl blushed crimson. “No… it’s nothing. Just someone I saw.”

The lady chuckled knowingly. “Love often begins that way—quietly, unexpectedly. One day, child, you will understand its power.”

The girl looked away, smiling shyly. But inside, her heart was already dancing to a rhythm it had never known before.

_____

The weeks that followed felt strange and heavy for Ananya. The corridors of college buzzed with voices, laughter, and the familiar aroma of tea and snacks, but she barely noticed. Her mind was elsewhere, always drifting toward the cricket ground she passed on her way home.

Every afternoon, her footsteps slowed unconsciously as she approached. There he was — laughing, running, playing with the carefree energy of someone untouched by worries. The way his bat swung, the effortless way he moved across the field, the sound of his laughter that carried across the empty ground — it all made her chest tighten with an ache she couldn’t name.

She would stand behind a tree or on the edge of the path, pretending to check her phone, yet her eyes never left him. Time stretched, each second heavy with the weight of wanting someone who didn’t even know she existed.

At the flower house, the roses seemed to notice her unrest. She would sit among them, fingers brushing the petals lightly, staring at the garden as if it could whisper answers. The old lady poured her tea with quiet understanding.

“Love has a way of making time both sweet and unbearable,” she said softly.

Ananya looked up, startled. “You knew?”

The woman smiled, eyes soft yet knowing. “The roses always know, child. They bloom brighter when a heart is restless, when it dreams of someone unseen.”

Ananya pressed her lips together, letting the warmth of the tea seep into her cold fingers, her heart full of both hope and fear.

fear of what? Losing him or not having him? Ananya doesn't know anything now. She just wishes her world would see her for once. She just want the world to know love is peaceful.

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