Opposites attract, but is it true? Well, science proves that. But what about people and their emotions that have no connection to science? How, do two people who are miles away in their thoughts, and their actions can attract each other without batt...
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Obsession: The state of being obsessed with someone or something. An idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind. THAT'S IT. I was obsessed. And the centre point of my obsession was Shravan.
My sixteenth-year self was so obsessed with nineteenth-year-old Shravan that it had become my second nature to adjust myself around him. If he moved I would move too as though I was in his gravitational force. He was the sun — the centre of my galaxy.
I had a hunch, Shravan knew about my obsession. Whenever I used to stare at him — beholding his magnificent stature, he would blush, and there would be a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Sometimes, he would look at me, with his mesmerising light brown eyes that were similar to twinkling stars, as though he was as attracted to me as I was to him.
I wanted to ask, I wanted to know if he felt the same zap of electricity when I would randomly hold his hands or place my head on his shoulders. I noticed he would stiffen for a second or two then again he would relax against me.
Shravan was a vault of emotions. One would never know what's going on in his mind. He wouldn't falter unless he was probed, he wouldn't talk unless it was necessary — and that made him more irresistible. The more he hid behind his walls, the more I felt the pull.
One evening, we decided to watch a movie. “I am not watching Harry Potter.” I announced, “I am tired of watching the same movies again and again.”
Shravan casually leaned against the couch, and my heart flipped. He was already about six feet tall and his long legs stretched in front of him. One arm lazily draped behind his head and the other playing with the remote of the TV. The blue hue on his cheeks made his face look like that of a fallen angel. He looked breathtaking. Maybe I had stood there for a long time gawking at him or he had noticed something in my face, he sat up straight abruptly, fetching a cushion on his lap.
“What do you want to see then?” Shravan's voice sounded a bit irritated as well as strangled.
I sighed, “The Notebook?” I read the book already, but I wanted to watch the film. I heard it was as good as the movie. Shravan paled a little, “You already have watched the movie, haven't you?”
Shravan sighed, “Yes, and I don't want to watch it again.” There it was. The finality. The order. Which I never liked.
“And why is that?”
“Because I said so.” He shifted uncomfortably, though his voice was relatively soft, maybe looking at my expression. “If you want you can watch while I study, just use the headphones.”
Fine. If that's what he wants! I pressed the play button whereas, Shravan went back to his study table. The film was emotional as expected, but of course, the book was more. Nicholas Sparks’s one of the best novels.
