Tearing a double page from his ruled book, he briefly considered the pros and cons of confessing his feelings for her, by writing to her. Come on, who does that now? Then again, he had been old school at stuff like that.

Tearing a double page from his ruled book, he briefly considered the pros and cons of confessing his feelings for her, by writing to her. 
Come on, who does that now? 
Then again, he had been old school at stuff like that.

He slowly pulled the pen from his shirt pocket, and began pouring his heart out on that paper quite deliberately. For a moment, he felt that the paper was way too small to write what he felt for her, and if he actually intended to pen down everything that he felt for her, he would perhaps end up writing a book.

After he finished writing it, he proof-read the letter, and found it to be flawless. He smiled, reading his own letter as that was the only thing he had been good at- writing. In fact, he sometimes considered himself to be ‘perfect’ for the same. After reading the letter for the umpteenth time, he folded it neatly and walked towards her. His legs seemed to be a lot heavier than they had ever been, as he walked towards her. It felt a lot more like walking on Jupiter, than Earth- our own planet’s gravity just couldn’t be that strong, right?. His body betrayed him; He appeared to be a little reluctant in his endeavour and his heart was pounding right out of his aortic cavity. He felt uneasy as he walked ahead, because his legs didn’t seem too keen on taking him to her. She was reading a book by John Green. She was so engrossed in the book that she didn't even notice him until he was standing right next to her. He gave away the folded letter to her, and told her that he'd wait for her reply. She felt his shivering hands brushing against hers, while she took the letter from him. The touch of her skin sent shivers down his spine.

Before he left the library, he saw her crumpling the letter; the letter that he had written with so much of love and affection. She just flicked it aside! He felt so crushed deep within, that he didn’t even register the incredibly vivid noise of water and glass splashing and mingling all over the floor; the librarian had just dropped a glass tumbler. He wondered silently, if there was any difference between the shards of glass around him, and that broken excuse of a heart that pumped blood through his veins. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he walked away. The sheer humiliation of this incident took control of him as he walked out of the gate. He wanted to return to his books, for they loved him more than anyone else. Well, besides his parents, that is.

******

She read the letter he had written for her, and she was elated to know that he felt the same for her. She instantly took a page from her note book, and tried writing back to him, but she failed miserably in her attempt to do so. In spite of trying hard to write something for him, she consistently failed to write something even remotely as beautiful as he had written for her. She developed an inferiority complex. She had probably read a million books, yet she couldn't put her feelings into words in that very moment. Or was the feeling too obscure, to be expressed in the blunt simplicity of words? She crumpled her own unworthy response, and threw it aside. She was frustrated because she could hardly write as beautifully as him. She told herself that she couldn’t possibly be good enough for him!
The next day, she managed to write a really long letter, about two pages in length, which she passed on to him during their classes. As soon as he received the letter, he asked the person who had passed him the letter, about it’s origins. As the boy pointed towards her, he crumpled it and threw it aside without even opening it. His rudeness crushed her, especially after all those promises in that wonderfully crafter letter. She had even preserved his letter in her favorite novel! Tears welled up in her eyes, and she failed miserably in all her attempts to control them. She walked out of the lecture, crying. The lecturer didn't say a word, because she was a star to everyone in the class. Watching her leave, he felt guilty and picked up the crumpled piece of paper. He read the letter as fast as he could, and every word of the letter added on to his pulse, making way for the smile which had now replaced the frown on his face. His face lit up like a neon bulb, and he felt like the proverbial ‘tube light’; always slow, always too slow! 

******

Soon after the bell rang, he rushed to the library; something in his head told her that he would find her there. That library was the one place inside the entire campus which she loved. He kept looking in vain, though- she was nowhere to be seen.
‘AARADHNA!’ he shouted, and the librarian called him into her cabin, giving him a bland lecture for almost ten minutes, which seemed like an eternity to him. His mind was elsewhere, wondering where she could be. After the library, he tried to look for her in the canteen, even though he realized that his chances of finding her there were quite bleak. Suddenly, it struck him. He knew where she would be, other than their library. He rushed towards the basement and found her, like he knew he would. He found her sobbing softly, sipping an espresso. He went up to her slowly, and sat next to her.  

"I'm sorry. I saw you crumpling that piece of paper and throwing it aside yesterday, and I thought you threw away my letter. He said. making a sad face.

"Love means never having to say that you're sorry.” She looked at him, wiping her tears. 

"Isn't that a line from 'Love Story' by Erich Segal?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Isn't that your favourite book?" She retorted, smiling.

 
"Well, it certainly was, but now I guess my favourite book would be the one that we’ll write together."

“Are we writing one?” She asked, with a smile that extended to her ears.

“Of course we are!. And we can discuss it over a cup of coffee, can’t we?” He replied, winking at her.

She held his hand, and they walked towards the Café outside their college.