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 questions cascading through my mind, each one competing for attention in the midst of the overwhelming sense of déjà vu.
Time stuttered to a momentary halt, the world around me melting away into the background, as he introduced himself as Izan Dejanovic. His voice, a rich baritone, carried an undertone of warmth that brushed against the silence, resonating with an unmistakable confidence. As he began the lecture, my breath caught in my throat, and my heart seemed to perform an impromptu drum solo. Each syllable he uttered seemed to carry a depth that echoed the corridors of my mind, leaving an indelible imprint amid the suspended moment.
Words fell into a jumble, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. I felt breathless, absolutely smitten by the mystery that stood before me. Such was the impact of his presence, an unexpected magnetism that left me struggling for composure amidst a storm of emotions.
The revelation of his identity outspread a storm within me, an inexplicable connection that exceeded mere recognition. As the lecture continued, I found myself adrift in a haze of fascination, pondering the baffling allure of this man who seemed to hold the answers to a puzzle I hadn’t realized existed until that very moment.
Yet, amid this rush of recognition, a disconcerting realization dawned—his eyes, fixed on the lecture hall, held no trace of acknowledgement, no spark of remembrance. It was as if our paths had never crossed, as if that serendipitous night existed only in the depths of my memory.
The mystique of our connection persisted, draped in an air of uncertainty, as the lecture unfurled and time did its thing. Then his lecture drew to a close faster than I could even blink. I only realised when the symphony of rustling papers and departing footsteps filled the hall. As I gathered my belongings a sudden warmth stirred inside me—a magnetic pull that made me look up. His eyes had found mine, and in that charged moment, my breath hitched, stolen away by their intensity. Our gazes intertwined briefly, an incomprehensible electricity pulsated down my spine, before his gaze shifted away with the swiftness of a shooting star. I watched, spellbound, as he walked out of the room, leaving me behind, frozen in my spot.
“—Mira!” Zoe’s persistent shaking jolted me out of my thoughts. The only person I had managed to befriend in these two days.
“Huh?” I mumbled, feeling like a total scatterbrain.
“I asked if you were ready to leave?” Zoe repeated, and I scrambled to grab my bag.
“Oh, yes, let’s go,” I replied with a quick smile, and she hooked her arm through mine.
“Let’s grab some food, I’m starving!” Zoe groaned pulling me out of the class with her and in no time, we found ourselves on a quest for the on-campus café. Zoe was a vibrant, fun and outgoing person. One can even compare her with sunshine. Normally I would drown in such rays, but she engulfed me with a certain warmth. She was the sunshine that didn’t burn but protected.
“Pot să-mi fac un Sarmale și un Cozonac să meargă, te rog.” Zoe effortlessly placed her order in fluent Romanian, leaving me in awe. “What will you have?” she asked, turning her attention to me, and I glanced around the diverse selection of food on display.
“Voi avea un mic în poșetă, te rog,” I replied confidently, only to notice Zoe’s puzzled expression and a stifled chuckle from the lady at the counter.
“What?” I queried, puzzled. “What did I say?”
“You just asked for grilled meat in your purse,” Zoe managed, fighting back laughter. I sighed, allowing a smile to break through.
“Go on, have a laugh,” I said, shaking my head as I handed the money to the amused lady behind the counter.
“No worries, learning Romanian can be tricky. But trust me, you’ll catch on,” Zoe reassured, her eyes scanning the café for an open table.
“Easy for you to say,” I grumbled, scanning the room alongside her.
“You think that’s bad? I once ordered bread with a side of condoms,” Zoe announced, prompting an unexpected burst of laughter from me.
“You can’t be serious!”
“I am! And the waiter deadpanned, we don’t sell that here. Maybe check the men’s restroom on your way out,” Zoe recounted, shaking her head in disbelief. “And to top it off, it was a date!”
“You were on a breakfast date?” I chuckled, trying to wrap my head around the absurdity, just before I accidentally bumped into someone.
“Îmi pare atât de rău! Ești bine?” The guy I collided with apologized as I looked up. (I’m so sorry! Are you okay?)
“Îmi pare rău!” I quickly apologized. “That’s the extent of my Romanian. I’m really sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” I quickly offered him some napkins, noting the spilt coffee on his hand and the floor—thankfully, none on me, a testament to his swift reflexes.
“It’s alright,” he replied in a deep accent, flashing a friendly smile as he wiped his hand and bit of his T-shirt.
“Let me buy you another coffee,” I insisted.
“No need for that.”
“I insist. Besides, I need to grab one myself,” I persisted, and after some reluctance, he agreed. “I’m Mira by the way, Mira Hanan,” I introduced myself, extending my hand for a handshake.
“Luca Vasile,” he responded warmly.
“And I’m Zoe Murphy.”
“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
After the initial exchange, silence draped over us like a heavy curtain. It was not the comfortable kind of silence one might appreciate, at least not from my end. I kept my fingers busy on the keyboard, eyes glued to the screen, purposely avoiding any chance of our eyes meeting again.Despite my efforts, I couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Izan from time to time. He was totally absorbed in his book, jotting down notes like a pro. His pen danced between his fingers effortlessly, all his attention on the pages. I felt like a mere ghost of a person, invisible to him in the midst of all those words. It was like the world faded away around him, leaving me here, anxious and tapping my feet to disguise the nerves I couldn’t really explain. I shook my head, trying to snap out of it, and turned my focus back to the blank page on my laptop.I felt my frustration mounting as I sifted through the pile of books, notes, and endless tabs, trying to make sense of this paper. With a sigh, I slouched i
“Let’s find you something fabulous to wear,” Zoe exclaimed, rummaging through her wardrobe and presenting me with a series of outfit options.As we stood in her bedroom surrounded by an array of outfits strewn across the bed, Zoe’s eyes sparkled with excitement, eager to help me choose the perfect outfit for the night.“So, which one should we start with?” Zoe murmured eyeing all the options of dresses of different colours, design and style. I stood there frozen as I stared at the pile of clothes in front of me.It had been only five minutes since we reached her new apartment that was bustling with preparation for the housewarming party. And I was already in a robe, out of my simple peasant clothing. And the options of outfits laid in front of me was more than overwhelming.The first dress she handed me was a vibrant cobalt blue, its intricate lace overlay glistening under the room’s soft light. The dress hugged the figure in all the right places, but as I looked at my reflection, I
Their kindness and warmth were undeniable, the scent of old money surrounded them, along with a hint of sophistication that hinted at their wealthy and refined upbringing. Yet, despite their privileged background, they exuded a down-to-earth charm that made me feel at home in their presence.The evening flowed smoothly as guests arrived, filling the space with chatter and joy. We gathered around the dining table, where a feast awaited us. Every dish served was a work of art, bursting with flavour that delighted the senses. From the appetizers to the main course and desserts, each bite was a culinary delight, showcasing the skill of the chef and the essence of fine dining.As we chatted and laughed, time flew by like it always does when you're having fun. Before I knew it, the evening came to an end, and guests began saying their goodbyes, expressing gratitude as they left. As the dinner wrapped up, Zoe and I headed to the club. Stepping out of the car into the cool night air, faces f
I ran into the washroom, my heart racing at an uncountable speed, I feared it would leap out at any given moment. Closing the door of stall behind me, I leaned against the cool surface, trying to catch up to the millions of thoughts running through my head. “What on earth was that!” I screamed into the empty space, my voice echoing off the tiled walls as I struggled to process what had happened in the past few minutes. Did it really just happen, or was it just another one of those dreams? Did Izan really just do that? Confusion clouded my mind, making it impossible to understand or comprehend what is reality and what felt like a surreal dream. The whole situation felt like a blur, making me dizzy, leaving me gasping for a sense of stability. But whatever it was, reality or a dream, I couldn’t hide in there for long. I needed to leave, right at that moment, or else being stuck in that space with those thoughts would drive me to the brinks of insanity. Hurriedly, I said my farewells a