The Spring We Fell In Love
If Chapter 6 was the moment I realized he was special, this chapter is about everything that came after.
After that date, he gave me so many things that I genuinely had no idea how I was supposed to carry everything home by myself.
And then came another one of his thoughtful gestures.
He insisted on dropping me home.
It sounds like such a small thing now, but back then it felt huge.
After spending the entire day making me feel special, he still wanted to make sure I got home safely.
The whole day felt unreal.
Like something straight out of the books I loved reading and the movies I loved watching.
When I finally got home, I was ridiculously happy.
There was just one problem.
That giant bouquet.
There was absolutely no way my mother could see it.
The questions would never end.
"Who gave you this?"
"Why did he give you flowers?"
"What is going on?"
So I somehow managed to sneak that enormous bouquet into my room without getting caught.
It took far more effort than I'd like to admit.
The moment I got inside, I wore the T-shirt he had given me, clicked a selfie, and immediately sent it to him.
Then I took pictures of everything, the bouquet, the cookies, the T-shirt and sent them to my friends.
Look what he gave me.
I sounded like a little girl.
And honestly?
The little girl inside me was incredibly happy.
Because the kind of date I had imagined while reading romance novels and watching movies had actually happened.
Not perfectly.
Not magically.
But in that dramatic, filmy way I secretly adored.
The quiet happiness.
The ordinary days that somehow became my favorite memories.
After the blue orchids, something changed between us.
Not overnight.
Not dramatically.
But slowly.
Comfortably.
Like two people who had finally stopped pretending they didn't care.
We started spending more time together.
Talking about absolutely everything.
Sharing songs, stories, and pieces of ourselves we didn't usually show other people.
Somewhere along the way, he stopped being the boy from coaching.
And became my person.
The first person I wanted to tell things to.
The first person whose messages could instantly improve my mood.
The first person who felt like home.
He had this nickname for me.
Kaira.
To anyone else, it would've sounded like just another nickname.
But to me, it felt special because it belonged to us.
One of those little things that become meaningful simply because the right person says them.
Then his birthday came.
Or at least, that's what I thought.
A few days earlier, he had told me he would be out of town for his birthday.
Turns out, that wasn't entirely true.
He was very much in town.
And we decided to meet.
This time, I wanted to do something special for him.
So I bought him blue orchids and wrote him a ridiculously long letter.
We met at a cafe.
One thing about me.
I love watching people read.
Especially him.
And somehow, he knew that.
Instead of taking the letter home, he sat there and read it right in front of me.
I remember watching him read and thinking how cute he looked when he was completely focused on the pages in front of him.
Of course, I secretly clicked a few pictures too.
He had come with his best friend and was waiting outside when I arrived.
I told him to call him over and join us.
That's when I met his best friend for the first time.
We talked, laughed, and spent the afternoon together.
At some point, I noticed he was carrying two flowers.
One red rose.
One yellow rose.
First, he handed me the red one.
Then, when we were about to leave, he gave me the yellow rose too.
Later, he told me it was because my period was due soon.
And I just remember staring at him.
Because who even thinks like that?
Who remembers things like that?
The gesture was so small and yet so thoughtful that it completely melted me.
Then came the moment I still laugh about.
He wanted a hug.
But instead of acting confident, he became unbelievably shy.
His cheeks turned bright red.
The kind of red that made him look like an embarrassed little kid trying to be brave.
I was nervous too.
But eventually, I leaned closer.
He stepped forward.
And we hugged.
Then he kissed my forehead.
I don't think I've ever known what to do with my emotions in moments like that.
All I knew was that somehow, even on his birthday, he had found another way to make me feel special.
The funniest part?
We were both so nervous afterward that we accidentally left an absurdly large tip for the waiter.
When it was finally time to leave, I wished him happy birthday one more time.
We shook hands.
He told me to text him once I got home.
Then we went our separate ways.
And I remember smiling the entire journey back.
The kind of smile you can't wipe off your face even if you try....
Now it was time for our third date.
And somehow, it was happening at my house.
Looking back, it sounds absolutely insane.
But at the time, it felt completely natural.
That's what surprises me most when I think about us.
How quickly comfort replaced awkwardness.
How easy it was to sit beside him and feel completely myself.
No pretending.
No trying to impress anyone.
Just us.
Talking.
Laughing.
Existing in the same space.
I made Maggi for him and attempted to make cold coffee.
Attempted being the key word.
The coffee was honestly terrible.
Barely drinkable.
But he still had it without complaining.
And I remember looking at him and thinking:
Is he even real?
How can someone be this sweet?
We talked about everything.
Hours passed without either of us noticing.
The conversation never felt forced.
It never felt awkward.
Being around him had become easy.
Comfortable.
Safe.
And somewhere between those conversations and those stolen moments, we had our first kiss.
Looking back , it almost feels inevitable.
We were dancing.
Slowly, awkwardly, and far too aware of each other.
At some point, he took one of my hands in his and rested the other lightly against my waist.
The distance between us disappeared little by little.
Close enough to hear the music.
Close enough to feel each other's heartbeat.
In the background, our favorite song was playing.
The kind of song that feels insignificant until it becomes attached to a memory you'll carry for years.
Neither of us said anything.
We didn't need to.
He moved a little closer.
So did I.
And then we kissed.
For a few seconds, the rest of the world simply disappeared.
When we finally pulled away, we just stared at each other.
Both of us blushing.
Both of us smiling.
Neither of us knowing what to say next.
So we did the only thing that felt natural.
We hugged.
Shy.
Happy.
And completely overwhelmed by what had just happened.
I wish I could describe it perfectly.
I wish I could write something beautiful and poetic about it.
But the truth is, some memories aren't beautiful because they're perfect.
They're beautiful because of how they made you feel.
And that moment made me feel happy.
Genuinely, completely happy.
The kind of happiness that doesn't happen very often.
The kind you don't realize is rare until it's gone.
For a while, life felt simple.
We had our dates.
Our songs.
Our routines.
The future felt exciting instead of frightening.
And maybe that's why I remember those months so fondly.
Because before the misunderstandings.
Before the heartbreak.
Before all the versions of goodbye that would follow...
There was a season where loving him felt easy.
A season where I thought this story would have a completely different ending.
And honestly?
Sometimes I still miss that version of us.
The one that existed when everything felt simple.
When a message could fix a bad day.
When every new memory felt like the beginning of something beautiful.
When we were too busy making memories to imagine we'd one day be living inside them.
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