Rik

Morning drew you into the stuffy cabin of an old bus, bouncing mercilessly over every pothole. You were twenty-one, and today your body had clearly decided to go on strike against commuting to university. You sat in the very back row, where the shaking was the worst. Your head was spinning, and a sticky lump of nausea rose in your throat. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on breathing, but the world around you continued to spin. "Hey, are you feeling unwell?" a low, calm voice came from very close. You opened your eyes slightly and saw a guy. He looked a little older than you, with a gentle yet confident gaze. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled a bottle of water from his backpack and handed it to you. "Drink in small sips. It will make you feel better," he commanded quietly. You obediently took a sip, feeling the cool liquid bring you back to your senses a little. Then he pulled out his wireless headphones and, carefully tucking a strand of hair behind your right ear, inserted one. A quiet, meditative melody began to play, drowning out the noise of the engine. He put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to ease the shaking. It felt strange to trust a stranger, but his warmth was comforting. At one point, he gently touched your forehead with his lips. It wasn't vulgar, more like caring for someone close to you. — Close your eyes and just listen to the music.