I never thought I’d find love during my internship. As a 21-year-old design intern in Kochi, my only focus was building my portfolio and getting through the three months without forming any attachments. The corporate office buzzed with activity, but I kept to myself, speaking only when necessary about work-related matters.
That changed when Pratheesh started working from our office. He usually worked from Infopark, but since his friends owned this company, he occasionally chose to work here. My friend Meera couldn’t stop gushing about him – his voice, the way he casually sang along with songs playing on the office speaker, how he carried himself with quiet confidence.
“You should hear him sing, Arya,” Meera would say dreamily. “It’s like honey for your ears.”
I’d roll my eyes, but I couldn’t help noticing him. He had this gentle presence that somehow filled the room without being overwhelming. One day, Meera decided to follow him on Instagram, and the next morning, he approached my desk.
“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice carrying that warmth Meera had described.
“Arya,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
That evening, I found his follow request on Instagram. We began this subtle dance of likes and comments, especially on music-related posts. One Sunday, I accidentally liked his story twice – a song he’d shared. To my surprise, he messaged me.
“Double tap fan of the song?” he teased.
Something about his message made me smile, and before I knew it, we were chatting regularly. Our conversations flowed effortlessly from music to life, dreams to silly jokes. I found myself looking forward to his messages, to seeing him at the office.
Time was running out – my internship would end in a week. Meera, ever the catalyst, messaged him: “You better tell Arya how you feel soon. She’s leaving in a week.”
One evening, as I was packing up to leave, Pratheesh approached me. “Want to grab some tea at Syclon?” he asked, referring to the nearby supermarket. Meera gave me an encouraging nod, and soon we were in his car, headed for what would become our special place.
That evening turned into a routine – meeting at 8 PM for walks that grew longer each day. During one such walk, under the stars of Kochi, he stopped and turned to me.
“I know you’re leaving soon,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “But I need you to know that I like you, Arya. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time.”
My heart raced, but I couldn’t find the words that evening. The next day, as they dropped me at my hostel, I finally gathered my courage. “I like you too,” I whispered, and his embrace felt like coming home.
On my last day, we took one final walk. The night air was heavy with unspoken words and promises. The next morning, he came to the train station, helping with my luggage, his touch lingering longer than necessary. As the train began to move, I saw him standing there, and I knew this wasn’t an ending but a beginning.
Our long-distance relationship isn’t easy, but it’s beautiful in its own way. We’ve learned to cherish our phone calls, to make every meeting count, to find romance in simple good morning texts and lengthy voice notes. Pratheesh still sings to me, now through video calls, and somehow, the distance makes his voice even more special.
What started as an internship where I was determined not to form any connections turned into the most meaningful connection of my life. Sometimes love finds you when you’re busy making other plans, in the most ordinary places – like an office in Kochi, with a man who sings along to speakers and double-taps your Instagram stories.
Looking back, I realize that trying not to care was my way of protecting myself. But Pratheesh showed me that some people are worth the risk, worth opening your heart to. Our love story might have started in an office, but it grew in evening walks, car rides, and now, across the miles that separate us. And somehow, that makes it even more precious.