A Single Gaze
It began quietly. A dining hall full of voices, the clatter of trays, plates on long tables. I stood a little lost in line, eyes fixed on the tray, when she reached for a fork just in front of me. A fleeting moment, barely more than a passing. But when she turned around, our eyes met. Long red hair fell over her shoulder, and in that first glance lay a quiet attention that did not fade.
We sat at different tables, as chance would have it. Yet every time I looked up, my gaze inevitably found hers. No smile, only the certainty that the other was there. Later, on the stairs, we crossed again. I went up, she came down, and we both paused, as if about to say a sentence for which no words existed.
In the evening we found ourselves in the same room, together with a few others. Backpacks in the corners, someone chuckling at a message on their phone. Between the beds reigned the casual disorder that only travel brings. I noticed the bed beside hers was still free. On impulse I stood up. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to sleep here,” I said loudly enough for all to hear. No excuse, no whisper. Just the sentence that needed to be spoken.
A few laughed, made small jokes about it. But she looked at me, and in her gaze there was no ridicule. Only assent, quiet and unobtrusive. When I lay down, there were still several meters between us. Yet the space between us felt denser than any closeness I had ever known. We looked at each other, wordless, for minutes. Belonging flowed not through touch, but through an understanding no one could explain.
The night passed calmly. Someone turned in their sleep, a door clicked softly, somewhere outside the elevator hummed. Yet all that remained was that gaze. A quiet bond no sound could cut through.
In the morning we parted, each with our luggage, each in our own direction. On the train home I lit a joint, almost without thought. The smoke tasted stale, out of place, and I stubbed it out after only a few drags. Some encounters demand clarity. Some closeness does not tolerate haze.
And as the train rattled on, what remained was the memory of a single night in which one gaze was enough to make silence glow.
