Bzzzz... bzzzz...
The alarm buzzed relentlessly beside my pillow. I groaned, reaching out blindly to silence it. Mornings were never my strong suit—especially not early ones. But today wasn't like any other.
Today was the day.
The day I'd finally meet her.
I dragged myself out of bed, still half-asleep but already feeling that tinge of excitement tugging at my chest. After a quick shower, I stepped out, letting the cool air dry the last traces of drowsiness from my skin.
The clock read 10:00 AM—still plenty of time.
While I ate a light breakfast—some toast and black coffee—I found my thoughts drifting.
What should I wear?
This wasn't just any meetup. This was our first meeting after months of conversations, teasing texts, late-night calls. All those virtual moments were about to turn real. I wanted to look my best. No—I needed to look my best.
But as someone who never put too much effort into appearances, I was starting to regret that attitude now.
How would she look?
A flutter of nervous curiosity rose inside me. I've imagined her smile more times than I could count, but now I'd get to see it in person. That thought alone made my heart beat just a little faster.
I stood before my closet and threw it open.
Clothes tumbled forward, half-folded shirts, neatly hung jackets, and a few items I'd forgotten even existed.
"Let's see what we've got..." I muttered to myself.
And so began the quiet chaos of finding the perfect look.
.....
The sunlight spilled through the gauzy curtains, warm and slow, brushing against my skin like a lover's whisper. The air was soft, scented faintly with rose water from the lotion I used the night before. I stretched beneath the sheets, my limbs languid, my body still heavy with sleep—but my heart?
My heart was wide awake.
Today.
Today I'm meeting him.
The thought sent a quiet shiver down my spine, one that curled softly through me and settled somewhere deep. My fingers brushed my collarbone, tracing the curve absently, already imagining his eyes—would he look at me the way I imagined he might?
I sat up, the blanket sliding down my legs, revealing the pale silk nightgown I wore to bed.
In the mirror, I caught my reflection—sleep-tousled hair, a faint blush already blooming on my cheeks, lips parted with nerves or maybe longing. I smiled, brushing a finger along the edge of my jaw.
Today isn't just any day.
Today, I want to feel beautiful—for him.
And for myself.
I rose slowly, the hem of my gown swaying around my thighs as I padded barefoot toward the closet. My heart fluttered, full of a strange kind of innocence and anticipation that made my skin tingle. Every choice I made today—every thread I put on—would carry meaning.
Clothes. Hair. Perfume. Even the delicate lace beneath it all.
He won't see most of it.
But I will know.
And that knowing… was enough to make my pulse race.
....
The morning air was tinted with the sweetness of late spring. Outside Lily's window, the world shimmered in soft gold, sunlight pouring through the leaves like honey through lace. The trees swayed lazily, their branches weighed with blossoms in pale shades of pink and ivory, shedding petals with each gentle breeze.
The street below was quieter than usual — a rare kind of hush had settled over the neighborhood, broken only by the distant hum of a rickshaw bell and the rhythmic sweep of a shopkeeper brushing dust off his storefront. A bird chirped from the edge of the windowsill, then flitted away as if it too had somewhere important to be.
From the open window, the scent of sun-warmed earth mixed with the light perfume of marigolds blooming in a nearby rooftop garden. Somewhere, water splashed against concrete — a tenant rinsing the porch with a bucket and broom — the sound clean and steady, grounding the dreaminess of the morning.
The sky was a perfect canvas, painted in shades of peach and blue, with soft cotton clouds drifting slowly like they were in no hurry to arrive anywhere. Even time felt slower, stretching tenderly across each minute, as if the world knew something special was about to happen.
Inside her room, the light filtered through sheer curtains, casting delicate shadows on the wooden floor. The walls, still and warm, seemed to listen. The air carried that quiet electricity — the unspoken thrill of something long imagined, finally stepping into reality.
Lily stepped out of her home, closing the wooden door softly behind her.
The gentle warmth of the day greeted her like a familiar embrace. She stood still for a moment beneath the shade of the overhanging bougainvillea, which bloomed wild along the front gate—bursts of violet and soft pink spilling like watercolor across the wall. Her white dress fluttered gently around her knees as a breeze passed, brushing against her skin with a feather-light touch. It carried with it the scent of nearby blooms and something distant—perhaps the aroma of fresh bread from the corner bakery or the sweet tang of ripened guavas from a vendor's cart.
The quiet residential lane she lived on was lined with old trees and low brick walls, the kind of neighborhood where mornings were slow and serene. A stray cat lazed under a parked rickshaw. The gentle chime of a cycle bell echoed in the distance, and sunlight filtered through the tree canopy in fragments, leaving shifting patterns of gold across the road.
She adjusted the strap of her small shoulder bag and glanced at her reflection in the side mirror of a parked car. There was a nervous curve to her lips—unmistakable. A flutter stirred in her chest. This wasn't just a casual outing. Today, she was meeting him.
I hope I don't disappoint him
Lily stepped forward.
.....
Across the city, Solace locked the door of his apartment and turned the key with a soft click.
The building he lived in stood tall among a crowd of similar high-rises—modern, utilitarian, all steel balconies and tiled exteriors. His flat was on the third floor, but the street below felt like it belonged to another world. From above, the honks and engine grumbles of city life had sounded like noise. But now, as he stepped onto the pavement, it became rhythm—Brighton's rhythm.
The scent of traffic clung to the air, but so did something sharper—perhaps incense from a temple nearby, or the smell of fresh samosas sizzling in a tea stall just down the street. A pair of delivery boys zipped past on motorcycles. A newspaper vendor called out his headlines. The city was alive in its typical, chaotic way—but today, Solace noticed none of it.
He wore a simple, crisp outfit—carefully chosen, yet effortlessly styled, like everything about him. His expression was unreadable to most, but the set of his jaw and the occasional glance at his phone gave him away. He was focused, maybe even slightly anxious. He rarely showed it, but today wasn't like other days.
I don't know why. But I'm feeling very nervous right now. This never happened in my life. Even before the toughest exams, I was calm. So why am I so anxious now?
Solace muttered to himself. He exhaled once and tucked his hands into his pockets as he stepped toward the main road. He wasn't headed out for business or errands. He was going to meet someone he had only known through voice and words—and yet, someone who had managed to settle deep within his mind.
The city thrummed around him.
And somewhere in another part of it, she was walking too.
Toward him.