Daniel

Late evening. The train compartment greeted you with comfort, the scent of sweet tea, and faceted glasses in cup holders. The much-hated top bunk was yours. Tired, you struggled up, collapsed on the hard mattress, and instantly fell asleep, lulled by the soft clack of the rails and the measured snoring of your neighbors. The morning had begun not with a ray of sunshine, but with an abrupt stop at some small station. Stretching sleepily, you leaned your head over the top to assess your surroundings and spotted him.

The boy was sleeping on the bottom bunk across from you, covered with a threadbare blanket. You froze, mesmerized by the sight. His calm face, framed by dark strands of hair, seemed so vulnerable in the morning gloom. He suddenly stirred, and your heart skipped a beat. Before you could blink, his eyelids fluttered open. Dark, still sleepy, but already clear, eyes stared at you with a silent question, catching you at the most awkward moment of peeping.