I like you
The first bell of the day always felt like a starting gun, a signal to sprint through the crowded hallways of their New York City high school. Nimal, however, found herself lingering, her gaze fixed on the locker across from hers. Jean. She was meticulously organizing her books, a strand of dark hair falling across her face as she concentrated. She knew she should head to class, but the magnetic pull of her presence kept her rooted. She loved watching her, the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the subtle curve of her lips when she smiled to herself.
Finally, she looked up, her eyes meeting hers. A small smile played on her lips. "Morning, Nimal," she said, her voice a soft melody that always seemed to calm the chaos within her. "Morning, Jean," she replied, her voice a little too loud, a little too eager. They walked to class together, the silence between them comfortable, filled with unspoken words and shared glances. The city's energy buzzed around them, a constant hum of activity that seemed to amplify their own internal excitement.
Their relationship was a carefully constructed mosaic of stolen moments and shared passions. They weren't officially "dating," a label neither of them felt ready to embrace. Instead, they existed in a comfortable space of shared secrets and unspoken promises. They spent hours in the library, poring over books, their hands occasionally brushing as they reached for the same volume. They walked home together, their conversations flowing effortlessly from school gossip to dreams of the future, the backdrop of the city's iconic skyline a constant reminder of the possibilities that lay ahead.
That afternoon, they met at their usual spot, a quiet bench overlooking the East River. The city's skyscrapers rose around them, providing a stunning backdrop to their private world. Jean pulled out her sketchbook, her pencil dancing across the page. Nimal watched, mesmerized, as she brought her vision to life. "What are you working on?" she asked, her voice a low murmur. "Just trying to capture the light," she replied, her eyes focused on her work. "It's so fleeting, you know? Always changing, just like the city itself."
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city, Nimal reached out, her fingers gently brushing against Jean's. A jolt of electricity surged through her, a familiar sensation that always left her breathless. She looked at Jean, her heart pounding in her chest. "Jean," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I really like you." Jean looked up, her eyes meeting hers. A smile played on her lips. "I really like you too, Nimal," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of joy and something deeper, something that hinted at the possibility of a love that could flourish in the heart of the city.