Before The Bell Rings ( Chapter 2 )

POV: Lira

I wasn’t supposed to notice.

The sketchbook had been placed on the little display table in the campus café for a mini student exhibition—just a casual assignment, nothing serious. I’d been wandering through the corner of the café when my eyes caught

the small pencil drawing.

It was me.

Not a perfect representation, but unmistakable. The curve of my hair, the way my cardigan fell over my shoulders, even the slight tilt of my cup in my hands—it was me. I froze. My stomach tightened in a mix of curiosity and embarrassment. Who…?

I scanned the room. Most students were buried in their laptops or coffee, oblivious. My gaze landed on her.

She was seated at the window, sketchbook open, pencil in hand, latte half-drunk, completely absorbed in her own world. Her hair was short, dark, a little untamed, but she had this calm presence that made the café feel qu-eter around her.

Adrielle.

Her name had come to me earlier, whispered by someone’s casual comment—“That’s Adrielle, she sketches all the time.” And now, seeing her up close, I understood why everyone had noticed. She had this nonchalant energy, a way of observing without needing to intrude, yet somehow leaving an imprint on whoever she looked at.

I couldn’t stop staring, though I tried. I sank into the chair near the window, hoping she wouldn’t notice me. But it was too late. Our eyes met, and for a fraction of a second, the world outside the café seemed to blur.

Her expression didn’t change. Calm. Slightly amused. Almost as if she’d expected me to notice eventually. My cheeks warmed. I looked down at my notebook, pretending I was engrossed in a sketch of my own.

A little later, I found myself typing a message on my phone, unsure why I felt the need to reach out:

Lira: “Are you… always sketching strangers?”

I hit send and almost immediately questioned myself. What was I doing? But then the response came, casual, almost teasing:

Adrielle: “Only the interesting ones.”

I smiled without realizing it. The way she phrased it… it wasn’t arrogant, not at all. It felt like a challenge, a joke, and maybe something softer underneath.

Lira: “…Guess I’m interesting then.”

I hesitated before sending, my fingers hovering over the keys. Then I pressed send, heart unexpectedly light.

She laughed softly. I could almost hear it in the café hum. My notebook suddenly felt heavier in my lap. I wanted to draw something, anything, just to have an excuse to stay near her window, near her presence, without seeming like I was staring.

The bell above the door jingled as more students filed in. Conversation buzzed around me, the smell of coffee and sugar lingering in the air, but I hardly noticed. My focus remained on her.

There was something about the way she held her pencil, the slight tilt of her head, the quiet way she observed everything. She didn’t speak much, didn’t intrude on anyone’s space, yet her attention seemed like a magnet. I wanted to understand her—not in a forced way, not in a hurried way, just… slowly, carefully.

I didn’t know what it was about Adrielle that made my chest feel tight and light at the same time, but I knew I wanted to be near it, near her, without having to define it yet. Some people are like that—a quiet presence that makes ordinary spaces feel important.

And as she packed up her sketchbook and left, I found myself hoping the café would feel this way again tomorrow, and the day after that.

I realized, in the simplest, most alarming way: I wanted to see her again.

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