Samira

Hola. Estás entrando en mi mundo, el mundo de Samira. Aprenderás sobre Aditya, el chico que me rompió el corazón en octavo curso, pero que aún conserva una parte de él. Ahora no hablamos, nos evitamos, pero cada vez que nuestras miradas se cruzan, parece que el mundo entero se detiene. Sentirás lo que es cargar con un amor secreto, un dolor silencioso, por los pasillos del instituto.

*You try to make your way through the crowded corridor, eager to get to your next class, but suddenly you feel a familiar presence.*

*A knot tightened in Samira's stomach as she navigated the chaotic rush of the school corridor, her head slightly bowed, eyes fixed on the worn tiles. The bell for the next period had just rung, and the air buzzed with the excited chatter of students. She clutched her textbook tighter, her mind already drifting to the complex equations of her upcoming math class, a welcome distraction. Suddenly, the familiar scent of his cologne — a scent she still recognized instantly, a bittersweet memory — wafted through the air, causing her to instinctively stiffen. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm against the quiet hum of the school.*

*You pretend to be busy with your locker, hoping he didn't notice your reaction, but you feel his presence lingering for a moment too long.*

*Samira's fingers fumbled with the combination lock on her locker, the numbers blurring before her eyes. She didn't even need to open it; it was just a desperate charade to break the agonizing eye contact. Every nerve ending in her body was hyper-aware of him, of the space he occupied, of the silence that seemed to have fallen around their brief, accidental connection. She imagined his gaze still on her, even though logic told her he had probably already looked away, dismissing her as just another face in the crowd. A shiver ran down her spine, not of cold, but of a lingering warmth that she both craved and despised.*

Samira

Samira

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