Apple of Her Eye Ch. 01

Why do people collect unusual items? To someone who doesn't collect, it might appear strange, a waste of time and space. But for those who collect, it's the opposite.

When they come across something unique and rare, their immediate thought is to save its beauty for themselves and to showcase it on their prized shelf. They can't bear to let the beauty of the item go to waste.

It cannot be any truer that "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder", as Margaret Wolfe Hungerford said. However, she didn't explain how that beholder might act irrationally to continually appreciate that beauty or the methods they employ to acquire it.

Triya, a 21-year-old second-year art student, was living in a rented apartment on the second floor. Tall in physic, brown for her skin, long black strands for hair, black eyes, and sharp features as her weapon. She was beautiful in everyone's eyes.

She possessed a nature of joy, a personality so free, like wind in cold weather. Everyone around her adorned her for her kindness, for how sweet and carefree she was, and for how intelligent she was.

But no one knew a side she had kept hidden. A side that could make eyes wide open, mouths to gasp in shock, and hearts to flutter with passion or fear.

And that is because she possessed a similar fascination for collecting unique items, driven by the desire to capture their beauty for herself. Whether you call it a fascination or obsession, it was about to introduce a heavy tide into her otherwise calm life.

And it began on a cool and misty autumn morning. She was hurriedly scurrying around her cluttered room, not as usual, preparing to head to college after a late night.

She gathered her painting supplies from her disheveled bed, the carpeted floor, and from the table beside her bed, stuffing them in her black beg. A bite of a pulpy red apple from a paper bag on her table, her blue water bottle on her left, and she was checking around to see if she had forgotten something.

After mentally reviewing her checklist, her gaze drifted to the brown shelves on the right side of her bed, adorned by the collection of sculptures, paintings, pens, coins, and various other items. A sense of satisfaction surfaced on her face, a feeling of fulfillment forming inside her stomach.

She then locked the door with great care, given its proximity to the shelf, and stepped into the corridor of her apartment. Unbeknownst to her, it was the beginning of what would turn out to be an extraordinary day, one that would reveal her hidden depths.

Despite running late, she hurried down the pavement towards her college, still absorbing the serene morning atmosphere with its calm air, the melodious chirping of birds, and the bustling traffic.

Fortunately, her apartment was so close to the college that she didn't need to fret about being tardy. But there was another reason for her brisk pace -- her dearest friend, Prisha.

Prisha, an artist of the same age, shared a passion for the creative world. Slightly shorter than Triya, she possessed a delicate beauty with short black hair, black eyes, and fair skin, making them a perfect complement to each other.

Among their group of six friends, Prisha had become Triya's closest confidante, to the extent that people often assumed they had known each other for years, despite having met just last semester.

"Good morning. You're running late," Prisha remarked with surprise as Triya stopped in front of her, amidst the bustling crowd. "Good morning! I stayed up late last night," Triya replied with a quirk in her tone, a signal of a happening event.

"What kept you busy last night?" Prisha asked, responding to Triya's signal, her teasing tone and eagerness for details evident as they walked side by side.

Triya wore a smirk as she strolled from the garden to the building's entrance. "Did you have sex or something?" Prisha added with wide-eyed curiosity, her face lit up with excitement.

Triya's initial reaction of disgust slowly transformed into disappointment after hearing Prisha's wild imagination, and she replied, "What? No! I haven't found the right person for that," much to Prisha's chagrin.

"I just used the new toy I bought, and it was incredibly relieving after such a long time," Trisha admitted with her face full of pleasure, quickly observing the disappointment on Prisha's face deepen. "What? You're not happy?"

"No! I mean, that's good, really good! Things have been stressful lately. But it would have been even better if it was with a real guy, you know," Prisha's tone carried a hint of longing as if she secretly wished for it every day. But she quickly brushed off her disappointment, looking at Triya, who seemed thoroughly exasperated with her.

"Anyway, have you decided what to paint?" she asked, changing the subject, and received a sigh of resignation from Triya. "Hmm, don't worry. Inspiration will come to you naturally."

"I know, but I just feel like nothing will captivate me anymore. My mind feels stuck." Triya expressed her frustration and exhaustion in her tone. Prisha nodded sympathetically as they reached their class, where they greeted more of their close friends: Jay, Siya, Nitin, and Karan.

Laughter echoed in the bustling cafeteria as Triya's group occupied the tables on the right, enjoying their break. "Have you decided what to paint?" Nitin, a young boy of the same age, asked Karan in a subtle tone, meant only for him, but it came out audible to Triya.

"I have," With a dim tone Karan replied, a warm smile covering his face.

Despite being the same age, he was, unlike the others in his group, quiet and secretive. His presence among confident and lively peers was because of Nitin and his shared passion for art. Karan's enthusiasm aligned with the group, making him part of them.

"Here." Siya offered a lunchbox full of sliced fruits to Triya, breaking her connection with the conversation between Nitin and Karan. Fruits were eventually shared with others, reaching Karan as well.

"Oh, I just remembered Mrs. Maurya can help you." Prisha boomed out of excitement, finding a solution to the problem Triya and informed that she herself found a clear head after talking to Mrs. Maurya.

Cutting off her words and catching everyone's attention, a commotion unfolded before them, making Prisha ask a question in worry. "What's happening?"

"I don't know. He asked me if there were apples in the box," Siya answered, visibly concerned as everyone's eyes followed Karan, dashing to the washroom. "We should check on him," Triya suggested, about to rise, but Nitin reassured them that it was nothing serious--Karan simply couldn't eat apples, and he would be fine.

Although Nitin's words pacified the others, Triya remained unconvinced, trying to convince herself. Swiftly, she announced her intention to visit Mrs. Maurya, their art teacher, and left, her worry for Karan evident. He had seemed scared when he dashed to the washroom.

As Triya was reaching near the boys' washroom through the corridor, she continually thought of Karan, wondering about the situation with him. Her concern arose when she heard peculiar noises coming from the washroom.

Her feet halted before the brown door, hesitant to step into the gents, still contemplating if she should get involved in his business. They weren't close at all, even if they were in the same group. They rarely talked and were always avoiding each other.

But after hearing a loud growling noise, she couldn't stay frozen and dashed towards the stall he was in. About to knock on the door, she abruptly heard the weird noises coming from inside. Her hand stopped mid-air before the door as well as her feet, her ears seeking more.

She found herself wondering about what kind of noises they were because they didn't seem painful. And her doubt turned true when she identified his noises to be sweet, pleasured noises.

He was moaning with frustration in his tone, pleasuring himself. The sounds of it became clearer after identifying them. Her mouth fell open in astonishment, her breaths stuck in her throat, and before she could completely shut off to his sweet noises, a pair of steps alerted her.

She dashed with dim steps to the main door and closed it in haste, not letting the guy enter. After securing Karan from the disgrace, she herself dashed to a stall beside his and quietly sat on the toilet, listening to him.

Like mellow music, his noises slipped through her ears to her entire body, pinching her with a sensitive sensation. She felt her legs getting weaker at his innocent but nasty noises, her skin burning and sweating and her stomach tying up in a knot.

She sat there for a while, letting his noises affect her in a way she didn't expect.

Swiftly a growling sound came from his stall, halting his moans and the jerking sound, shocking her deluded brain back to reality as well. He breathed heavily, calming himself, and unlocked the door.

Stuck into her place, she held her body in stiffly, listening to his steps reach for the washbasin. The sound of the tap flew like the flowing water, telling her that he was about to go out. And as the speed of his actions was exposed, he was gone in an instant, leaving her breaths stuck into her throat.

She was trying to process the happened scenario, trying to tell herself that it was normal and nothing but the wetness between her legs rising didn't allow her to feel as she pleased.

"God!" she growled, bewildered at how could she be turned on by a person she did not know and in a place like that at the top, forgetting for a moment that he was the one who was pleasuring himself in the washroom.

"So, why are you here, Triya?" A soft voice of age around thirty-five echoed her ears, swaying her stiff eyes to flutter. "What?" She questioned, falling back to her senses. She had heard nothing and did not know how she reached into the teacher's office.

"Is everything alright?" Likewise, the character of Mrs. Maurya, sweet and caring, she questioned, a sense of worry flowing over her face. "Yes." Triya stuttered, clutching the chair tighter. "I just need your advice on something mam."

"What happened?" Mrs. Maurya's body inclined near the table, a sign of total presence. "I -- I'm struggling with something. I don't know what to paint." Triya stuttered, her eyes wandering here and there.

Her mind was there for sure, but her heart and body were still recalling the scenario that happened in the washroom. It was clearly evident through her body.

"You do seem disturbed." Mrs. Maurya replied with the same tenderness in her tone, catching her off guard, and added, "Tell me what are you feeling?"

A minute she took to put her feelings into words and uttered a single word, "frustration."

"Is that because you don't understand something or what should you do?" Mrs. Maurya added, getting a nod of astonishment from Triya. "Hmm." Mrs. Maurya contemplated for a minute and then suggested something she hadn't felt for a while until the bizarre happening in the washroom.

"You need to find excitement. Whatever excites you, find that and paint it." An excitement like she felt hearing Karan's moans, and an excitement rising between her legs. Does Mrs. Maurya mean that?

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END OF THE SMUT

---- Love, author! ❤️