The Stranger on the Train
It started with a fleeting glance. I was exhausted from finals, leaning my head against the cool glass of the train window, drifting in and out of a restless sleep. When I finally opened my eyes, he was there. A boy with chestnut hair and a long fringe, sleeping peacefully across from me. I remember staring at his full lips and tanned skin, wondering what color his eyes were.
When he finally woke, he met my gaze with striking green eyes. For a moment, the world stopped, but then the train reached the final station, and he vanished into the crowd. For weeks, he became an obsession. I searched for him every morning, my mind filled with the memory of his scent—a distinct, masculine fragrance of Hugo Boss. I spent my afternoons daydreaming, the longing growing into a fever that made it impossible to concentrate in class. I even bought the same cologne, spraying it on my pillow just to feel him near.