Chapter 21 - Unread signs and unspoken feeling

Why I am so unlucky? 😔

I sat there quietly that night, staring at my screen, thinking… Why?

Why did he keep liking every story I posted? Wasn't it obvious that those stories were meant for him? Each one carried a silent message, a hidden feeling, a sign he should've picked up on.

Was he pretending not to notice? Or worse—was he just playing along, knowing exactly what it meant, yet still choosing to do nothing?

My mind was a mess of confusion and overthinking. I lay awake longer than I should have, scrolling back to check which stories he liked the fastest, wondering if it meant anything at all—or if I was just fooling myself again.

The next day, I pulled myself together and headed for class. It felt like any other ordinary morning, except for one strange thing—he was already there. Early. For the first time ever.

Normally, he arrived late, like the night owl he always joked he was. But today, he was sitting near the door with his friends, laughing softly and looking too calm for someone who used to walk in like he owned time itself.

I was with my own group of friends. We were talking and laughing like we always did, but the moment I entered, my silly eyes scanned the room almost instinctively—and found him.

He didn't look back directly. Not really. But I could feel his eyes on me from the corner of his gaze. That almost invisible side-glance he thought I wouldn't catch. But I did. I always did.

Still, I gathered all the pieces of my scattered heart, swallowed the ache in my throat, and turned my eyes away as if he were a stranger. I didn't flinch. I didn't smile. I walked straight past him into the hall with my head held higher than I actually felt.

I kept giggling with my friends, acting like everything was fine—like his presence didn't twist my heart a little. But every laugh I let out was a shield, a performance, hiding the storm quietly building inside me.

That day, I chose to ignore him. I treated him as if he was just another face in the crowd—someone I had never met, someone who didn't once mean so much.

But even then, I couldn't help but feel his eyes following me. Not openly. Just… secretly. From the corner of his vision, he kept glancing my way.

And I noticed. Of course, I noticed.

No matter how much I tried to pretend, my heart always knew the difference between being unseen and being watched silently.

And that glance—so brief yet so familiar—felt like both a question and an answer. A whisper in a crowded room. A connection that still lingered… even when everything else seemed broken.