“I thought I might find you here,” his voice caught me off guard, causing me to jump. I turned around, book in hand, to see him leaning against another bookshelf, hands casually tucked into his pockets.“Don’t startle me like that,” I sighed, but couldn’t help smiling at the sight of him. How could someone look so effortlessly good? As he straightened up and began to stroll towards me, instinctively, I backed up.“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his hands coming to rest on either side of my head, effectively trapping me. I glanced away, but he chuckled softly, his thumb gently tracing along my jawline.“What are you doing? We’re in the library, Izan. Someone might see us!” I whispered, my heart pounding with excitement and nervousness.“I don’t care. Let them see,” he replied, his voice low and filled with determination.“I think you might have forgotten that you can’t be seen with one of your students. And I happen to be just that,” I reminded him, pushing him away gently.
As we strolled through the gallery, I found myself mesmerized by the collection of art. The paintings, portraits, and sculptures were simply breathtaking. It was no wonder the stained glass dome above us was so renowned.As we walked side by side, our hands occasionally brushed against each other. Then, unexpectedly, Izan gently intertwined our fingers, his touch sending warmth coursing through me.“I can’t believe I’m allowed to touch the art,” he whispered excitedly, his eyes sparkling with delight as he glanced down at me.“You’re such a goofball,” I chuckled, feeling a surge of affection for him.He brought my hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss on my knuckle. “And I can even kiss the art,” he said with a mischievous grin.“Izan!” I exclaimed, playfully swatting his arm.“What? It’s true,” he replied, his tone playful as he flashed me a charming smile.He gently cupped my face in his hands, his touch tender and warm. “You outshine the art upon this wall, I’m sure. For in your p
“Thank you so much.” I sighed in relief. My savior, cladded in a not-so-shiny black hoodie, returned my phone—that had flew out of my hand when those thugs were running after me. He gave me a nod then turned around. “Wait! Can you give me your number? I wish to repay your kindness someday.” I sought after him but he shook his head and started slipping away into the darkness of the alleyway. “At least tell me your name!” I called after as he ran faster into the approaching darkness. “Wait!” I shouted as I ran after him but it was futile, no matter how hard I tried, he was always out of my reach. I was brought back from my slumber to the continuous ringing of my phone. Another dream. The same beginning, the same ending with just a few things differing each time. I glanced out the window from my study table at the corner of my room. The sun had started taking the shade of orange, casting the city in the hues of approaching evening. I sighed and picked up the phone.“Hi Ma.”“How are
Confidence wrapped around him like a cloak, his demeanour exuding an air of authority softened by a hint of approachability. Dark, tousled hair framed a face that could rival the ancient sculptures, with shades of mahogany and copper dancing through the strands, hinting at a hidden fire. His hazel eyes, behind clear glasses, shifted like chameleons, in hue with each flicker of emotion, an ocean of complexities shimmering beneath their surface. They held a certain depth, seemingly concealing a wealth of knowledge and experience. Standing tall at 6’2”, he effortlessly commanded attention, drawing gazes without any effort. The contrast between his crisp cream shirt and deep ocean blue slacks only added to his composed sophistication. In that instant, I was spellbound, entangled by a potent mix of awe and intrigue. The fleeting hero from that fateful night had transformed into an academic, adorning the guise of a professor within the walls of academia. The revelation sent a surge of quest
“So, where are you guys from?” Luca inquired as we settled into a cosy corner at the small table.“Born in America, grew up in France, studied in Germany, now living in this beautiful country of Romania hoping to come across perhaps Lord Transylvania or a handsome vampire,” Zoe shared dreamily, earning a chuckle from us. As I took a sip of my coffee, Luca’s curiosity turned to me.“Born grew up, and studied in Bangladesh,” I replied with a smile, noticing a flicker of puzzlement in Luca’s expression—a reaction I completely understood.“No offence, but where is that?” Luca asked sheepishly, his expression tinged with a slight embarrassment.“None taken,” I reassured him. “It’s in Asia, right beside India.”“Ah, I didn’t know, sorry,” Luca responded apologetically.“Don’t worry, it’s a small country and not often in the spotlight. I totally get it,” I reassured him.“Yeah, I came to know about Bangladesh when my flight to Japan had a layover there a few years ago,” Zoe chimed in between
The countdown to the upcoming Modern Literature of Europe lecture crept by in agonizing slowness. Every passing second felt stretched into an eternity, though it amounted to just two days. Secretly, I found myself yearning to see him again, a desire I refused to admit aloud. His absence made the campus, not the largest expanse, but sizable enough to conceal him from my curious gaze.My attire for the day cascaded with deliberate elegance: an off-white shirt of satin texture gliding over my form, accentuated by a sleek black sweater vest. Paired with brown slacks, I meticulously folded the sleeves of my shirt, adding a touch of casual sophistication. Opting for a low ponytail, I allowed tendrils of hair to lazily frame my face, lending a subtle allure. A mere hint of moisturizer and sunscreen graced my skin, and as I set the sunscreen aside, my fingers grazed over my modest collection of lipsticks. Feeling a streak of boldness, I chose a dark shade of brown, one that harmonized with th
“I will, Sir. Thank you,” I assured, clutching the book tightly against me as he nodded.“Have a good day, Ms. Hanan,” he bid before stepping into the hallway.“You too, Sir.” A smile automatically crossed my lips as he walked away, leaving me with a strange fluttering sensation lingering in my chest.“Will that be all for today, Ms Hanan?” the librarian inquired politely as I returned the borrowed book to the library counter.“Yes, thank you,” I replied with a smile and turned around to leave only to remember something I needed.“There actually is something I needed help with. I'm looking for ‘The Anxiety of Influence’ by Harold Bloom,” I asked.“Of course. We have the book. It’s in the literature criticism section, aisle three, third shelf from the top,” the librarian directed, her tone helpful as I set off to locate the book.Navigating through the shelves, I traced the spine labels, scanning each row for the sought-after title. Finally, I spotted it, neatly nestled between other c
It was a lazy Saturday, and I found myself engrossed in a conversation with Zoe over the phone. She was still grilling me for being late to our café meet-up earlier in that week when I had stumbled into Izan. Luca was quick to brush it off but Zoe, well, she is Zoe.“Are you certain you will be able to make it tonight?” Zoe’s voice rang with a hint of exasperation, the question feeling all too familiar.It was a lazy Saturday, and I found myself engrossed in a conversation with Zoe over the phone. She was still grilling me for being late to our café meet-up earlier in that week when I had stumbled into Izan. Luca was quick to brush it off but Zoe, well, she is Zoe.“Are you certain you will be able to make it tonight?” Zoe’s voice rang with a hint of exasperation, the question feeling all too familiar.“Yeah, yeah,” I sighed, a twinge of guilt in my voice. “I just need to find something to wear for your party.”“I have tons of dresses. Just make it on time for the dinner, will you?” Z