She had a twinkle in her eye, the kind you'd not notice unless you stare into it. Standing alone, she clutched a book in her hands: holding it against her chest, almost hugging it. In the crowd of thousands, she'd easily go unnoticed because she wasn't the prettiest one around, or the best dressed, or the one who'd say something mind-blowing that'd stick by you through tomorrow and even after that. In fact, she looked the exact opposite. She was unapologetic: even though she was a mess, she owned every part of it, and all her attributes simply accentuated it. Her unmade hair, her clumsy demeanor, her long-strained, sleep-deprived eyes, everything made her who she is, and I, I just looked at her from a distance as she stared into blankness.
She sighed a lot, I observed. Was she tired? Maybe, but of what? Each time she breathed, her eyes seemed to startle, yet focusing the stare into her blankness firmly. When she exhaled, her lips parted a little, almost alternatively. She stood fixated, unmoving, undecided. It was a treat to watch her though. My eyes seemed to have locked themselves on her.
Time and again, it seemed like she almost realized to have zoned out, and she'd try and come back to the present moment, but I reckon she must've drifted off too far to return to now. She looked like the one who'd be really shy in large crowds of mere acquaintances; what she craves is a soul connection. She'd look up and around oftentimes, maybe when she'd try to come to right now, but her thoughts seemed to catch up fast and grasp her back. She was lost. She was the girl who you'd easily miss out on, but once you did see her, you'd not want to look anywhere else. She had the charisma, I think she'd keep you hooked once you start a conversation with her. But would you be able to say anything when you know those eyes that are so lost right now would be looking into yours? I wonder.
She was the girl who'd go unnoticed, because you'd always hear the loudest person in the room, but in her head, I bet she has things louder than that going on, and someday she'll find people who'd be intrigued, and one day, she will be heard.
I wanted to go near her, towards her, try to get to know her, maybe strike a conversation: hear her voice. It was strange, she didn't look like someone who'd participate in a talk with some random stranger like me; but it wasn't like that. She'd gotten me hooked. I imagined me going up to her and her looking at me, her eyes throwing some magical invisible light at me, emancipating me from everything with just that one look. But I decided against it; just watching her was so pure, I couldn't taint it with reality. I looked at her for the last time, tried to capture the image of her face in my memories, and walked away.
