Found

We reached home in ten minutes.

Dinner passed in fragments—warm food, familiar voices, light conversation—but my body was running on exhaustion. The moment it ended, I rushed upstairs to my room, craving nothing more than a shower and sleep.

As I dropped my bag, my phone vibrated.

For a fleeting second, my heart hoped—almost foolishly—that it was him.

It wasn’t.

It was Sia. I had forgotten to text her that I’d reached home safely. I replied quickly, reassuring her, then turned toward my wardrobe in search of the coziest nightwear I owned. Most of my comfortable clothes were still at the hostel, and I settled for what felt closest to comfort.

Another notification buzzed.

Then another.

Each sound sent a small jolt through me, my heart racing with quiet expectation—maybe this time. But every glance at the screen brought mild disappointment. Nykaa. Netflix. Reels from friends and cousins.

Nothing more.

I plugged my phone in and stepped into the bathroom. The December night was cold, and the hot shower felt like relief pouring over me—washing away travel, tiredness, and everything I hadn’t processed yet. Twenty minutes later, wrapped in warmth and calm, I applied my night cream and slipped into bed, switching off the lights.

My body begged for sleep.

My heart refused.

Restless and awake, I reached for my phone one last time.

And there it was.

A follow request.

And a message request.

From him.

For a second, I just stared at the screen—frozen, disbelieving—before happiness flooded through me so suddenly that it felt overwhelming. It was just a notification. Just that. And yet my heart raced as if something monumental had happened.

sebastian_nivin.

He had found me.

I accepted the request instantly and opened his message.

“I rarely see strangers helping others. It’s even rarer when it comes from a female stranger. Thank you for what you did today. If you hadn’t helped me with the money, I wouldn’t have reached home on time.”

It was just gratitude.

And yet my cheeks warmed, my body reacting as if he had said something far more intimate. A reel followed beneath the text, amplifying his sincerity.

I took a moment—just one—to calm myself before replying.

“It was nothing. I always like helping people. By the way, did you reach safely?”

The moment I hit send, the message was seen.

Almost instantly.

He replied.

“It was special to me. I just reached. Freshened up and ready for bed.”

I stared at the screen.

No—I was waiting for it. Every microsecond felt stretched. And now that it was there, I didn’t know what to say.

Should I wish him good night and end it gracefully?

Should I ask about his dinner and keep the conversation alive?

Would that seem intrusive? Or eager?

Did he feel even a fraction of what I felt?

The questions tangled in my mind, refusing to settle.

Then the three dots appeared.

Relief washed over me.

“Sleepy?”

I smiled.

He had misread my silence—but somehow, that made it easier.

“No. Had dinner?”

Yes, Veda. You took the step.

“Yes.”

Instant again.

I hesitated, then typed what I had been curious about all along.

“How did you find my Instagram?”

I already knew the answer.

I just wanted to hear it from him.

“I was confused about how to spell your name. Otherwise, I would’ve sent the request while we were still on the train. But UPI helped.”

My heart skipped.

He had looked for me then.

My cheeks heated, warmth spreading everywhere. So he had been listening when I spoke. Noticing.

I typed another message—then stopped.

“Do you send requests to every girl you meet on a train?”

No. Too much. Too soon.

I erased it.

Before I could overthink again, his message appeared.

“I don’t do this with anyone I meet. You’re the first.”

I froze.

Was he reading my thoughts?

My stomach fluttered, happiness bubbling up uncontrollably. But a part of me remained cautious. Was this charm? Was this flirtation? Or was it genuine?

I replied carefully.

“Aww. I help strangers too—but I’ve never offered a lift to a male stranger before. Never to my private space. So you’re a first for me as well.”

The words lingered after I sent them.

Had I revealed too much?

Our conversation flowed after that—siblings, families, small personal details. Simple things. Easy things. Things that felt surprisingly intimate.

But my eyes grew heavy.

This time, my body finally won.

Just before sleep claimed me, I saw his message.

“How will you travel back? Since our institutes are just an hour apart, maybe we could go together?”

A soft smile curved on my lips.

Before I could reply, sleep pulled me under—leaving him on seen, and my heart holding onto a promise the night wasn’t ready to end yet.

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