“Miss Shreya, it's been a week since that man stands outside the hospital and sent in flowers and tiramisu for you. But you throw it in the bin.” I lifted my head from the files and looked at Miss Stell who looked and sounded concerned.

“Miss Stell, there is nothing you should be worried about. I don’t like Tiramisu, so I give it to the kids and I don’t like Peonies either, so I throw it in the bin.” I spoke, turning the page over and not giving it much importance because I don’t want to share my personal life.

“Well, Miss Shreya just saying that it's been a week,” she said while inhaling her breath and nodded while giving a small smile and moving out.

It's been a week since I first started seeing him in every environment I step into, like a shadow that trails me relentlessly. This past week has felt surreal, as if every place I visit is devoid of life and energy, with only him and me lingering there, caught in our private world.

I've spent days discarding the flowers he offered, their vibrant colours now a reminder of his efforts that I can’t seem to appreciate. Every moment has been consumed by the act of looking at him, observing the nuances of his expressions, while wrestling with the emotions he stirs inside me.