It was a bright, sunny day-the start of my college life. I stepped through the college gates with dreams in my eyes and determination in my heart. I was ready to study hard, get good grades, and secure a job through campus placement. Oh! I almost forgot to introduce myself-I'm Zhou Ye, a Computer Science student. Finally, I felt like a free bird released from the cage of high school.
But there was a tiny hole in my excitement: it was a girls' college. No handsome boys to admire. Still, I hoped to make good friends, just like I did in school.
As with every college, ours began with an orientation. The speeches were long and sticky, like jelly. The students looked drained, but the moment it ended, the applause was wild-as if the energy had returned to us all at once. Seniors guided us to our classrooms. I chose the third column on the left-our secret strategy spot, since teachers usually focus on the middle row.
I pulled out my phone, texting my school friends who had also started college. I felt like I was sitting between ghosts, not students. Just then, two girls sat beside me and started talking. I was shocked but smiled and said hello. They replied back, and though it started awkwardly, soon we were chatting easily-sharing our names, hometowns, and school memories.
A girl behind us caught our attention-silent, absorbed in her phone. We were curious. I asked if she'd spoken to them, and they nodded. "Yeah, she just said hello."
We had no professors that day, so we chatted freely. The quiet girl suddenly got up, walked to our bench, and asked if she could join us. We nodded. She removed her headphones and began to talk. Her name was Xin. That's how our group began-Xin, Ling, Meng, and me. It felt like fate had stitched us together with the same hobbies and mindset. We were all drama lovers, especially K-dramas. It was like discovering your soul sisters.
At lunch, we unpacked our food and sat as a group. A new girl walked into class. She had joined late due to an 11-hour travel time and was staying in the hostel. I remembered her from orientation-she was a topper, and I assumed she must be a serious bookworm.
She sat beside me and introduced herself, then left to complete her hostel formalities. The day flew by, and finally, I waved goodbye to my friends and headed to the bus stop. It was 5:20 p.m. when my bus arrived.
Standing near the window, I was scrolling through my phone when a girl fainted due to low blood pressure. People helped her, and elders offered biscuits. Time ticked to 6:00 p.m., and I noticed a man standing beside me move to another seat. Another man stood next to me. I was too tired to care-until I looked at him.
My heart skipped a beat.
Sunlight kissed his face, and though he was lost in his phone, I was lost in him. My heart was pounding. I couldn't stop staring. It wasn't that he was exceptionally handsome, but he had something-an unexplainable pull. Like lightning had struck me quietly.
Eventually, I got a seat, but I kept stealing glances. He stood across from me, unaware of the storm he had stirred. At 7:00 p.m., I suddenly realized he was gone. My heart sank. That night, I couldn't sleep. His face haunted me.
The next day, I took the same bus, hoping to see him. But he didn't come.
Days passed. My college life continued-classes, K-dramas with Xin, Ling, and Meng, professors who spoke more about their past jobs than the syllabus. Especially one former HR-turned-professor who could talk the entire hour and teach in the last five minutes.
Every evening, I'd take the bus, and slowly, I pieced together his pattern. He got on at the next stop after mine. I adjusted my routine, calculating bus timings just to catch a glimpse of him.
Sometimes he came, sometimes he didn't. But every time he did, my heart leapt.
Once, the bus was so crowded that I had to stand. He was beside me. As people pushed, I was accidentally pressed against his chest. His first three shirt buttons were open, and I couldn't even turn my head without seeing his chest. I was embarrassed beyond words, but he was calm, unfazed.
Then came a time when he stood behind me, and I felt his presence so close I froze. Another day, I had to sit beside him. I memorized every detail-his long fingers, the black ring on his hand, his visible veins, the way he leaned forward with tired eyes from screen time.
He left such a deep imprint on me without ever saying a word.
My friends knew nothing at first. One day during lunch, I asked them if they'd ever experienced love at first sight. Ling smiled and shared her own story, and we squealed in glee. I finally shared my secret too. They teased me, fangirled with me, and supported my silent obsession.
I even met another girl at the bus stop, Xun Yue. She later became my bus partner, my partner-in-crime. We'd laugh about gym uncles, joke about random passengers, and she eventually learned about my crush. Her savage humor made my stressful days lighter.
Despite all this, I never learned his name, never heard his voice.
He came and went like seasons-sometimes appearing like spring, other times disappearing like winter. One time, during my exams, I saw him standing close to me on the bus. My heart was pounding, but I played it cool. Even when I bumped into him or leaned into him in crowded buses, I never dared to speak.
It was all one-sided. Pure. Silent. Beautiful.
I made excuses to ride specific buses, calculated timings, and stood under the same streetlights hoping to see him. Even when my logical brain reminded me-what if he's married? What if he's not who I imagine him to be?-my heart ignored it all.
He became a routine I never got tired of.
And then, he stopped showing up.
Even when I finally saw him again after months, he was distant. A glance, a look-and then nothing. My heart hoped, but he never came back.
I never got his name. I never knew where he worked or lived. But somehow, he brought peace to my chaos. Even without a word, he made my heart calm. That... was more than enough.Whenever I stood near him i would feel comfortable.
He vanished like smoke in the wind, but he left behind a scent I can't forget.
Sometimes I would think that all love can get a good ending and a understandable partner. But when I came to know about my friends love and him , I understood that lovers can't always end together.
I don't remember the first time I saw you.
Maybe it was just another morning. Just another bus ride. Just another stranger.
But somehow… you became everything my eyes searched for.
You weren't even that handsome. Not in the textbook way.
But you had something else—something quieter.
Maybe it was the calmness in the way you stood, or the way your shirt was always neatly tucked in. Maybe it was your Lenovo bag, always slung over the same shoulder, or how you scrolled through reels on your phone as if the world around you didn't exist.
You didn't try to be noticed.
And yet… I noticed you.
Every day, I sat on my usual seat, like a ghost of my own routine, watching you.
My heart would race, but my body stayed still. I didn't smile. I didn't wave. I just… looked.
And in those silent moments, you became something more than a boy on a bus.
You became my morning peace. My invisible comfort.
I've seen so many boys in school, in my neighborhood, on other buses—but no one felt like you.
Sometimes, when our eyes met—by accident or fate—I would quickly turn away and look out the window, cheeks warm, heart thumping.
I never meant to stare too long.
I always wondered, "Am I making him uncomfortable?"
And so, there were days I didn't look at all.
But still, I felt you there. I always knew when you entered the bus, even without looking.
One day, the bus was crowded. I stood on the girls' side near the front, sighting you like always. You were busy watching reels. But then, an old lady got in. She pushed past me and I got shoved closer to the boys' side. I shot her the most dramatic side-eye.
And that's when it happened.
You turned.
You looked at where I was supposed to be.
And when you didn't see me there… you searched.
Your eyes moved side to side.
Until they found me—just beside you.
And the moment you noticed, you turned back to your screen like nothing happened.
But I saw it. That small hesitation. That quiet curiosity.
Was it just habit?
Or… did you miss me in that one moment too?
There was another morning.
I was headed to an important exam—tired, nervous, not expecting anything but stress.
You were there again.
I didn't notice you at first. Not until the driver stopped the bus—he was sick, and told all of us to get down and take another one.
I stood there, confused, surrounded by strangers. And then… I saw you again.
You were walking toward a share auto.
And without even thinking, I followed.
I didn't know where that auto was going. I didn't care.
All I knew was that you were there. And so, I sat in the back. Quiet. Small. Close enough to see you.
You turned around. Once. Twice. Every time the driver slowed down, you turned like you were looking at the road—but your eyes always landed on me.
And for those few minutes, the world shrank to the sound of a rattling engine, the weight of a shared silence, and your glance.
But when the auto stopped…
You got off.
You wore your bag.
And you left.
You didn't look back.
Not once.
---
Maybe I was just a face to you.
Maybe I was one of a hundred passengers, and I only imagined it all.
But even if you never knew me, I knew you.
You were the boy I looked at every morning.
The boy who never smiled, but still made me feel warm.
The boy I followed into an auto without knowing where it would take me.
The boy who never said a word… but still left a space in my heart.
You never waited.
You never stopped.
You never looked back.
And maybe, you never felt it at all.
But I did.
And even though it hurt, I'm glad I got to love you—
quietly, completely, and beautifully—
even if it was all in silence.
---
And then—after six months—I saw you again.
For all those days in between, I would glance at the bus stop where you used to board.
Every morning, I searched.
Every morning, you weren't there.
Eventually, I figured it out.
You must've started taking the train.
But on July 10, 2025, something changed.
The bus was crowded that morning. I could barely see through the gaps between people.
Still, I found you—by your white-colored AirPods.
That tiny detail, that instinct... it was you.
The moment I saw them—saw you—my heart began to race.
You stepped inside the bus before my stop, and I froze.
We both got off at the same stop that day.
But we had only three, maybe five, minutes of that fleeting moment.
You were standing near the steps, and I picked up my bag, standing directly across from you.
Even then, you were listening to music—lost in your world.
But you wore a red shirt, tucked neatly into black pants.
It was the first time I'd seen you wear that color. And honestly?
> You looked so bright, I forgot how to breathe.
When you turned your head and ruffled your hair, I swear—my heart skipped.
You weren't even trying. And yet, I was completely lost.
When our stop came, we both got off.
You adjusted your shirt, quietly walked away, and blended into the world again.
But me?
I stood there, watching you—like someone hopelessly stuck in a moment.
---
I don't know who you are.
I don't know where you live.
I don't even know your name.
But you came into my life like summer—
And disappeared like winter.
You left a mark.
And you didn't even know it.
---
I still don't know if I was the only one feeling this.
Maybe I imagined it all.
But sometimes… your glances, your pauses—they made me wonder.
Did you feel it too?
Even now, I carry your memory like a pressed flower between pages I can't open.
If fate ever brings you back into my life…
I'll still look at you. Silently. Longingly.
Sometimes, I wonder if he looks at me like someone familiar… or just another face in the crowd.
Every time I see him, I think, "Maybe today… I'll speak to him."
But then my hands tremble, and I can't even breathe properly.
On the bus, he'd often stand behind me—close.
His left hand would rest on the handlebar above, and sometimes, his elbow would brush against my head.
He knew it. I could tell.
But he never flinched. Never moved.
Instead, he'd stand there silently… blocking my view with his arm.
And yet, somehow, even that quiet closeness felt louder than words.
But even your reactions toward me are unpredictable.
One day, my friend and I were talking about her boyfriend. She told me that her parents didn't know she was in love and then asked, "If you ever fall in love, would you tell your parents?"
Just then, you removed your left AirPod and subtly turned to listen. I laughed and said, "Even if I did fall in love, my parents would never accept it. If they found out, I'd be in for a long lecture."
We both chuckled. But what caught me off guard was you—nodding your head in agreement.
You were listening. You reacted.
How am I supposed to stay calm when you do things like that? My heart aches, flutters, and races all at once.
Still… it's a good kind of chaos—the kind that makes me feel alive. Even though we've never spoken a word to each other, I don't regret it. Because your presence alone makes me feel happy, calm, and strangely comfortable.
Even now, I carry your memory like a pressed flower between pages I can't open.
If fate ever brings you back into my life…
I'll still look at you. Silently. Longingly.
But until then…
Let me bid farewell to my feelings—
To the boy who bloomed my heart and broke it without knowing.