It was morning in a city not my own—
new air, strange walls, and the gentle hum of life beginning again.
At the heart of the city, a popular temple bloomed with devotees,
each soul quietly whispering hopes into the divine silence.
I stood in the long line, waiting,
when I felt a presence behind me.
She was there—
her height reached just to my shoulder,
her head bowed in reverence.
She stood so close, yet I couldn't truly see her.
And then,
in a fleeting moment, I turned—
our eyes met.
She wasn't the kind of beauty that strikes like thunder,
nor did she disappear into the crowd like a shadow.
She was something else—
cute, quietly attractive, and her presence… felt like innocence.
Beautiful, not because the world would agree,
but because she simply was.
Later, seated among the resting devotees,
I caught sight of her again.
She moved ahead,
unaware that I followed
–just for a little while.
And then, as if fate played a silent chord,
she turned.
Her eyes met mine again.
No smile, no frown—just silence.
A silence so loud,
I wished it could freeze time
At the temple's exit,
when my prayer was done and I stepped outside,
she saw me again—really saw me.
It's as her eyes are on me
Like she's watching every part of me
I can feel her gaze,
on my voice, my steps, Even the way I look at her
She sees everything
But I… I looked away.
How could I hold my gaze on a girl
standing with her parents?
Respect held me back,
but still…
before she vanished,
one last glance tied our fates.
That last glance,
Her eyes —asked a question,
one my heart heard clearly:
"Will our paths ever cross again?"
I knew the answer.
I knew those eyes might never find mine again.
Perhaps she felt it too—
the silence of a goodbye that was never spoken.
Or perhaps she waited—
for me to say something,
to take a step I couldn't.
Her quietness, her gaze, that soft innocence—
it left something in me.
A mark.
Maybe I wanted more.
Maybe she saw in me something I never could.
And just like that, my mind was flooded with questions I couldn't answer.
Was I attractive to her?
Did she find me gentle, or kind?
Did she thinks I'm different from others?
I'll never know.
But part of me wonders—
was I the only one her eyes noticed that way?
Afterwards, I stood outside the temple,
waiting.
Hoping to catch one last glimpse.
Had she already left?
Or was she still inside,
searching for me, the way I searched for her?
I never found out.
Because I had to leave.
And so, I did.
What if,
fate still have ink left for us in its pen?
Or, Have we truly reached the page where the story stops turning—
or simply paused between chapters, waiting to begin again?
Or What if someday I look back and regret this moment—
thinking, if only I had taken that one small step,
a whole new timeline might have begun?
Idk—!?