Zoya was impatiently waiting for the 5:52 train, her feet tapping on the tiled floor and her hands constantly adjusting the straps of her backpack. She was exhausted from a long day at college and couldn't wait to get home. She would shower for an hour, tending to each strand of her greasy hair and washing her grubby face.

Before the train even arrived, she was shoved ahead with the rushing crowd and as the doors slid open, she stumbled in a daze. Her tired eyes instinctively searched for an empty seat and fortunately, it was right in front of her. She quickly sat, avoiding people's glares who were also aiming for the same seat. With a sly smile, she dug in her pocket and retrieved her earphones.

Just as she looked up, her eyes locked into alluring hazel ones which twinkled mischievously. He had caught her triumphant smile of capturing the seat. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she hastily glanced down at her phone, pretending to choose a song. She could feel him staring at her so she lowered her head further. All she wanted was to shrink into a small, cuddly ball and roll under the seat.

She clumsily got up and shuffled towards the door, fifteen minutes before her stop arrived. The boy now had his earphones stuffed in his ears and his eyes shut peacefully. The sinking sun's last golden rays spilled on his tanned face, his skin appearing luminous and his hair looking like silky caramel. How did he manage to look so magnificent at the end of the day, she had no clue about.

His eyes fluttered open and Zoya panicked, hurrying outside the door, realising later that she had stepped on the wrong station and hers was yet to arrive. With a loud groan and a childish stomp, she irritatedly watched the train go. All because of a boy she was never going to see again.

* * *

Zoya had been wrong because here she was, sitting right opposite to the boy with hazel eyes, the next day. She pretended to be busy with her phone, occasionally glancing at him only to find him genuinely occupied with his phone. She was curious who he was texting to and what, but she mostly kept her head down.

A sick man with a bunch of wet tissues in his hands accommodated the seat next to her and sneezed loudly right on her face.

Her head jerked up as she felt water droplets on the side of her face. Feeling disgusted, she slowly wiped it off with the sleeve of her t-shirt. Then their eyes met again, those naughty hazel eyes boring into hers. He looked partly amused as he gently patted the vacant seat beside him, feeling sorry for her.

"Here," he mouthed with a cheeky grin.

The next few minutes were a blur to Zoya who somehow mustered enough courage to sit beside him, her clammy hands clutching her backpack tightly against her chest and earphones dangling on her neck.

"Thanks." She didn't mean that to come out curt and ungracious, but her shyness took hold of her tongue.

Nevertheless, he smiled, that beautiful smile of his.

* * *

The entire weekend Zoya thought of him and kicked herself mentally for not speaking. On Monday, she dashed outside her college as her best friend called after her, "Going to meet the 5:52 train boy huh?"

She stopped dead on her tracks, fighting a blush. "Nothing like that . . ."

"You know, nothing's going to happen right? Like I don't mean to make you feel bad, but I don't want you to get hurt in the end. He won't fall for a random girl he meets on the train and if he does, I'm sure it's his thing of hitting on every girl he meets."

"Uh yeah," Zoya replied forlornly, then she shook her head. "Yeah, yeah, of course I know, it's nothing really. Anyway, I have to reach home early to help ma cook so I can't miss this train. Bye!"

She shrugged the worrying words of her best friend and scurried to the station. Fortunately, she didn't miss the 5:52 train and as if she wasn't lucky enough, she found an empty seat right beside the boy. He always sat on that same seat and she wondered how he had managed to do so.

Zoya was flustered as she slumped beside him, breathing erratically.

The boy suddenly turned to her and his eyes seemed to shine up so close. "Hey! There you are again. You found a very good seat this time."

She couldn't help but laugh softly at his subtly mocking humour.

He looked pleased and she hoped he would continue talking, but he indifferently shifted his gaze towards the window. Not knowing what to do, Zoya started digging her pockets for her earphones, coming to the sore realisation that she had left it at home. Without music, how was she supposed to calm down, sitting beside this extremely charming boy?

"You forgot your earphones?" he asked quietly as if reading her mind.

Zoya's eyes went wide for a second, being caught off guard. "Yeah."

"Here." He nonchalantly offered her one bud of his own earphones while simultaneously pushing the other one in his ear.

Her throat went dry as she coyly accepted it. "Thanks."

Again her thanks came out rudely and she cursed under her breath.

The boy quirked an eyebrow in question and seeing no response, he went back to scroll through his playlist. 'We Are Young' blasted in her ears and he cocked his head at her, smiling apologetically before lowering the volume. A wave of nostalgia hit her as he continued smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Brings back middle school memories, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," she breathed, relaxing a little. "My sister and I would sing this the entire day. We grew closer during those days."

"Yeah? Same with me and my sister," he said wistfully, then his eyes suddenly lightened up when the chorus came. He started fake playing a guitar and she laughed, enjoying his carefree nature. He bobbed his head, encouraging her to join in. Initially, she brushed it off laughing consciously, but then she noticed his crestfallen expression. With an odd grin, she started head banging, totally out of rhythm and felt she was doing the right thing when she heard his boyish laughter. Just as the music ceased to play, he leaned closer to her and whispered, "That old lady there thinks we're crazy." 

She giggled, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks when she saw a lady with a shock of white hair staring bizarrely at them. "Yeah we should stop, my head kinda hurts."

The boy chuckled and they fell back in a comfortable silence, relishing his interesting taste in music.

"Hey, your stop came I think."

Zoya became startled, then said abashedly, "No, mine's the-the next stop."

He peered at her inquisitively and she sighed, admitting defeat.

"Yesterday I-I got down at the wrong station. I wasn't in my erm . . . right mind."

He smirked as if knowing the reason and she nervously bit the inside of her cheek. Damn him.

* * *

The coming days they kept meeting each other at 5:52, sometimes talking about their city and most of the time, tacitly sharing their playlists. Zoya didn't have the courage to ask his name let alone his personal life. Besides, it was too late and lame to ask him his name now.

Her summer break was beginning from tomorrow and she promised to herself that she would ask for his number today. There was no backing down. She would be restless if she let their little affair which she savoured quite a lot to be a complete, foolish waste. 

"Hey Zoya, do you want to grab a bite? I want you to tell me which outfits I can wear for my trip. I have their pictures saved," her best friend said excitedly and Zoya felt uneasy.

"Well . . . Okay, we can go have tacos---"

"Oh my God, I'm kidding," she burst out and Zoya gave her an incredulous look. "You should have looked at your face, priceless. Of course, I know you're going to meet the train boy."

"No seriously, we can go have tacos---"

"Shut up idiot, no need to be a saint," she interrupted and glanced at her watch. "It's already 5:30, you should get going. Wouldn't want to miss seeing him for the last time."

"I was hoping to get his number actually," Zoya said timidly and paused. "What do you think?"

"I don't know . . . I mean yeah, you can, but I don't want you to get hurt in the end. Remember what I said earlier---"

"Right yeah," she said forcefully, secretly strengthening her promise that she was definitely going to ask for his number now. Her best friend was cynical about everything, that sort of explained why her relationships always ended before moving forward even an inch. "I know, thank you. See you soon, I'll text."

Zoya almost sprinted to the station, bumping exasperated people all the way, tossing a few apologies here and there. Her chest heaved up and down as she struggled for breath, but she reached right on time. She smiled to herself in satisfaction and viewed the approaching train, but her smile soon turned to a quivering straight line. Her hands went cold and she felt queasy, she didn't know whether she was imagining, but it seemed like she could actually feel her heart drop to her stomach. Her shoulders felt heavy and she stood there dumbfounded, tugging the straps of her backpack hard. Nearly ripping them off.

For there stood in the train, the boy with hazel eyes, smiling that beautiful smile of his at an equally beautiful girl.

Zoya staggered back, her teary eyes fixed on the couple, her best friend's words ringing in her ears.

She left.

* * *

"Where's the cute girl you couldn't stop texting me about that day? Is she even real?" the boy's sister teased him and he scoffed, feeling stressed. The doors of the train closed behind them and his sister gripped his arm, drawing his attention, "Are you okay?"

He looked visibly disturbed, but he quickly hid the troubled thoughts swirling in his mind with a dazzling smile. "Yeah I'm fine. She usually comes here, in fact, every day. I don't know what happened . . . "

His head whipped desperately in all directions and for a second, he thought that he saw through the window, a figure similar to hers on the station, vanishing among the mass of people.

Where are you? What happened to you?

"It's okay, she'll show up tomorrow. She wouldn't be well, you should text her."

"I don't have her number," he admitted in frustration and gave his sister a helpless look. "What if she never comes?"

"She will, don't worry so much."

But she didn't and now everyday at 5:52, a yearning heart waited for it's love to come back and sing songs.

* * *

A/N :

Since no one's satisfied with this end and I'm getting death threats (kidding) there's going to be part two.