Miss Writer

↡Meera↟

Life throws unexpected turns at you. Only a few weeks before, I was looking for a story. And then, when I had one, I only had the smallest taste of what I knew could be a full tale. But I knew I had a story, and it would be the most touching story I had ever heard or written.

It was about six-thirty in the evening and I was about to leave the office. It had been a long day and my head ached. There seemed to be problems piled on top of other problems, and I had no solutions in sight.

My phone buzzed, but I was so tired, I nearly ignored it. I put my hand in my pocket, and then drew it out again, leaving my phone in its nest. A few steps forward and my hungry writer's curiosity was too much to ignore. Sliding my hand in the pocket a second time, I drew out the phone and tapped afew buttons. It was from Kabir. 'Your traveler is here.'

I forgot my headache and started to rush to the exit as I tapped buttons furiously.

'Keep him engaged. I am coming.'

Moments later, I was on my way to the café.

~

I saw him through the window as I slowed my fast walk to a casual pace. I met Kabir's eye as I came in and I nodded my thanks.

I strolled to his table as I did a mental check of my clothing, my hair, and my makeup. Since I had worked through lunch, at least I knew I didn't have any embarrassing stains or pieces of food stuck between my teeth.

Taking a deep breath, I slid into the chair in front of him. 'So, Mr. Vivaan, how are you?' I gave him my most brilliant smile, as if we had planned this meeting for ages.

He looked up and blinked twice. 'Excuse me?' I could tell by his voice that he was astonished by my forward greeting. Or perhaps it was because I knew his name.

I crossed my legs and leaned back in my chair. My deliberate movements didn't betray my racing heart. 'I am sorry,' I began, 'but before you leave me for a third time, I think we should at least talk.' I turned to signal to Kabir to bring my cappuccino.

'Well, I never left you,' Vivaan said, looking deep in my eyes for the first time. For a moment, my calm movements began to falter. I could feel my hands begin to shake as he captured my gaze and refused to let it go.

I flexed my fingertips, silently commanding my hands to behave. I shook my head the same way my mother used to shake her head at me when I snuck away a chocolate cookie. 'But you never stayed. You escaped every time,' I replied with my eyes fixed on his. I felt myself discovering a new universe.

A frown creased his forehead.

'I love to travel. Don't you know that?' 'I know.' My voice was low, quiet. I didn't know what to say anymore. His eyes had cast some spell on me and I was completely mesmerized.

He spoke so softly, I could barely hear him. I absorbed his words by watching his full lips move as much as I heard the sound. 'And what makes you want me to stay?'

I wanted to stay in that universe for a very long time, that much I knew. And instinct told me that going soft would not hold him here. I cleared my throat, forcing attitude back into my voice. 'I love to write,' I responded. 'Maybe that's why.' I gave him a quick grin. 'Don't you know that?'

He smiled for the first time. It was one of those rarest smiles you encounter in your entire lifetime. The crystal hidden deep within a plain rock. These smiles have the power to change you from within.

'There is nothing to write about me,' Vivaan declared, and shook his head.

I plunked my hands on the table, lacing my fingers together. 'Everyone has a story to tell,' I insisted. 'Everyone is a writer. Some are written in books, and some are confined to hearts.' I was proud of my answer.

And there was silence for a few seconds. As we stared without blinking, I thought about the childhood game I used to play with my sister.

I felt, rather than saw, movement beside me and a cup was placed in front of me. 'Here is your coffee.'

I had no idea who supplied the cup, but I thanked her without breaking my gaze and delicately sipped my cappuccino, finally lowering my eyes.

I refused to speak next. It was his turn.

I counted three deep breaths before he finally spoke. 'You are good with words,' Vivaan said as he broke the silence.

'Thanks,' I said. 'And what are you good at?' I was eager to know more about Vivaan. He seemed so mysterious, and yet so wonderful.

Before I could get my answer, Vivaan's cell phone began to ring. He quickly reached down and checked the caller ID. His eyes were regretful when he looked up at me, disappointment rippling across his face.

Then he chuckled. 'I guess I am good at escaping,' he said.

Disappointment soared. 'Again?' I asked in a low voice.

'Always,' he whispered, leaning across the table so I could hear him.

'Why?' I prompted. I didn't want him to leave. I planned to keep him talking as long as I could. He shrugged, the shoulders of his coat lifting nearly to his ears. 'Love.'

I wanted to cry, but there was a glint of teasing in his eyes. 'What?'

'I love to travel,' he explained. 'I can't stay in one place.'

Not yet, my mind called out. 'Will you meet me again?' I asked.

'Why?' he asked with a challenging tone.

I mimicked his tone. 'Maybe you are my story.'

'Miss Writer,' he said as he stood up. 'I am real, not fiction.' He laughed and started leaving.

I stood up as well and held his arm lightly. 'I am Meera,' I said sadly. 'Not Miss Writer.'

And before he could escape, I left the café first.