Her bedroom reflected her minimalist taste. She had reduced it to contain only a few pieces of furniture; a queen-sized bed, a large mirror with six shelf dresser and a chair. Her clothes and bags were limited inside the drawers below the bed. The lamp which hung at the corner of the room emanated enough light for her in the night and the table fan below it blew enough wind.

She came out of the bathroom after a hot shower, placed the wet towel on the chair and stood naked in front of the mirror. She stared at her body, while her hands traced her contours as they touched her thick thighs, as they moved over her love handles, protruding little tummy, the cleavage and slowly ended on her plump cheeks. A thin film of tears lined up on her eyelids. “Maybe this is why he is not interested in me”, she pondered.

She grabbed a dry towel from a drawer under the bed and wrapped it around her body, securing it above her bosom. She then crawled on top of her bed and snuggled herself into the cushy bed. Tucking her curly, damp tresses behind her ears, she opened her laptop.

He had posted a new video of him, playing the flute. It is just one of his talents. Among other things, he paints, his favorite dance forms are Contemporary and Kathak, he creates magical music with his Cello, writes poems and sings, sings with that husky voice that makes her weak at the knees. Ah! And those dreamy eyes behind those nerdy glasses..

She has never met him in person. She had befriended him in the virtual world as she was drawn to him. Attempts to strike up interesting conversations were made by her, but they always ended in a jiffy, with monosyllabic responses from him. But, she couldn’t get him off her mind. He had started to take more space in her and now, he is her passion.

As he played the flute, she felt the ripples of titillation from his fluttering butterfly fingers rise in her guts, passing her heart, and reaching her face. It made her blush and she couldn’t control biting her lower lip. The tucked edge loosened and the towel detached from her body, as she rolled over and lay on her back. Laying bare on her bed, she twirled her hair and mulled over her conversations with him “Or is he is not keen on me because I am just another aimless young lady who is after him?”

Her attempts to gain his attention started to show in the form of postings of her accomplishments on the social media site, which he used to frequent. The weight she lost, the miles she ran, that peace out pose in front of her new car, her treks in the local state parks and so many other random activities were pushed to her online page. For his recognition, she had become a voracious reader, an adventurer and what not.

But to the the social media world, she became a loner again in a few months. They saw her intensity wear out after her unexpected transformation. She heard her jealous ‘friends’ snigger behind her back about her rise and fall. For them, she was just another failed attempt to woo the popular guy.

Almost a year has passed since then. One mid-monsoon evening, she was busy completing the assignment for the next day’s screen writing class. The exercise notes flew by a gush of wind that came in through the window. She grabbed her wild flowing curly hair and tied them into a ponytail. After collecting the scattered notes from the floor, she went to the window to close them. The breezy evening and the cloudy skies outside persuaded her for a nap.
Closing the window, She came back to her bed. When she was about to resume her writing, her smartphone reminded her:

Thursday ~

6:30 – Yoga session.

7:30 – Baking class.

She put on her Yoga pants and got ready to leave. She was about to close her laptop, when a message box flashed on the screen. It was him. Her eyes lightened up. ‘Hey’, she responded. She didn’t adore him as much as before, but she still liked him for all he was.

With no reply from her in almost an hour, he pings again “Hey, you there?”

She wasn’t there. She was gone. The eggs of passion she laid with his help, had hatched. The hatchlings craved for their mother’s attention and she loved to feed them.

The missing pieces she tried to find in him, she had found in herself, somewhere. She was naked out there, trying to be the best version of her.

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