Some days you plan, some days you drift, and some days… well, you just ride the bus and life decides to write a story for you.
🔥 CHAPTER 1: THE UNEXPECTED PASSENGER 🔥
The bus ride started like any other — me in the third-row window seat, the spot next to me blessedly empty. I'd asked the conductor if it was booked, but nope — all mine. I settled in, snacked on a chip, and tuned into a guy on YouTube building a Python app that restored cursor position with the press of F1. Pretty neat. Half-asleep, I was zoning out when she showed up.
Without a word, she sat down beside me. I shifted to make space and offered to stow her backpack in the overhead compartment. I'm tall; she wasn’t. She smiled — this soft, tired smile — and said thank you. I didn’t know then how much I’d hold on to that smile.
She wore a teal kurti with intricate embroidery near the neckline, her hair tied loosely in a braid that had just enough stray strands to make her look effortlessly cool. There was a faint scent of vanilla — probably her lotion. Her earrings jingled slightly when she moved, tiny silver hoops that danced with every turn of her head.
🚬 CHAPTER 2: THE CONDUCTOR'S SECRET 🚬
Before boarding, I shared a smoke with the conductor at the bus stop. He seemed chill, the kind of guy who’s seen it all. We talked about late-night journeys, life, and that one time he caught two guys hacking a Bluetooth speaker on his bus. Mid-chat, he tapped his cigarette and said, "That girl looks tired; I'll guide her to a good seat."
Turns out, that seat was next to me.
When she arrived, the conductor gave her a slight smile and motioned toward my seat like he was handing off a precious gem. As she walked past him, he glanced back at me with a smug grin, the kind that said, Don't mess this up, kid.
💫 CHAPTER 3: SHOULDER TO LEAN ON 💫
We sat down. I put on Iron Man, and I caught her glancing at my screen. I offered to watch together, but she said she was too tired. Couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in, though. I felt like I needed to say something — anything — so I said, "You can use my shoulder if that helps."
She didn’t answer. Just grabbed my arm, nestled into my shoulder, and drifted off. I played some music and just… watched her sleep. Her breathing, the way her hair danced slightly as she exhaled — I hadn’t felt that peaceful in months. It was heavenly after all my exams.
Her hair smelled like vanilla and faint traces of coffee — warm and comforting, like a lazy Sunday morning. I dozed off too — just five minutes before the bus stopped for a break. I woke her up, and she mumbled something. I chuckled and said, "Hey, maybe you could use a coffee." She mumbled, "That would be great."
🍦 CHAPTER 4: COFFEE, ICE CREAM, AND A SPOON 🍦
She tried handing me money, but I brushed it off. "It’s on me. For such beautiful and cute company." Her sleepy, grumpy face — somehow still adorable — turned into a confused smile. We had our coffee, and while I was grabbing ice cream, I accidentally picked pineapple instead of kesar pista. I grabbed an extra spoon just in case.
When I sat down and gestured toward the ice cream, she just took the spoon I’d been using and had a bite. The other spoon? Still in my jacket pocket. We just went with the flow.
"Break’s over," she said. "We should go back to sleep. There’s still three hours left."
We settled back in — her head on my shoulder again. This time, I let my arm slip to her waist. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she pushed closer, her breath warm against my skin. My fingers brushed along her waist, feeling the soft fabric of her kurti and the warmth of her skin underneath. Her hand found mine, fingers lightly intertwining — slow, cautious, yet natural.
She shifted slightly, her face closer now, her breath mingling with mine. The tension was electric. When her lips met mine, it felt like time stopped — soft, warm, and impossibly perfect. Her breath tasted faintly of coffee, sweet yet slightly bitter — like a perfect morning kiss. I felt her fingers tracing along my arm, pausing just long enough to linger. Her head found its place beneath my chin again, and I let my hand rest lightly against her back, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Somewhere in that warm blur, we both drifted off.
🌅 CHAPTER 5: PARTING WAYS 🌅
I woke up back at the bus station in my hometown. She was already gone. My heart sank, but then I spotted her backpack still on the bus. I grabbed it, hurried out, and found her outside waiting for a cab.
"You forgot this," I said, handing her the bag.
"Thanks," she smiled.
"Where you headed?"
"Airport," she said.
I shook her hand and said, "If fate has it, we'll meet again."
"Maybe," she said with a smile.
I watched her cab disappear before heading home. The auto guy charged me 250 bucks — way too much — but my mind was too tangled in emotions to argue. Back home at 2:30 AM, I called Mom to open the door. My brother woke up coughing and stared at me like I’d just returned from battle. I told him I'd set up his PS4 tomorrow and tucked him in.
As I was changing out of my jeans, I found that second spoon still in my pocket — a quiet little reminder that some moments can’t be planned — they just happen. I tucked it safely in my bag as a memory.
🎮 CHAPTER 6: THE DAY AFTER 🎮
The next day, my brother tried to wake me for 30 minutes before Mom finally succeeded. He was like a six-year-old alarm clock with no snooze button — persistent, loud, and occasionally violent. "Get up! Wake up! Thanos is coming!" he shouted dramatically.
I whipped up an omelet in our new iron skillet, downed a ton of water, and got to work on the PS4. The monitor stand took an hour to find, but Mom eventually rescued me. After setting it up, I called the gaming parlor guy for help downloading the games — no answer. So I figured it out myself. LEGO Avengers and It Takes Two — installed and ready.
One controller was toast, so I hit the market but had no luck. I ended up ordering one online. My brother and I played Marvel's Avengers till 9 PM, then watched Bhoot Police with Mom. My brother tried reenacting Saif Ali Khan’s ghost-hunting poses while yelling, "Shuddhi!" every five minutes — honestly, it was better than the movie itself.
As I brushed my teeth before sleep, I couldn’t help but smile. It’s funny how life can throw you a moment so sweet and unexpected that it sticks with you. And sometimes... that moment fits right in your pocket, in the form of a forgotten spoon.
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