I have answered this prompt two-three times previously, so I am writing a story.
She felt like having a photograph. The idea appealed to her. She liked him. His younger sister willingly gave it to her, when she asked for it. She kept it at her bedside. It was comforting to have something of him, plus it brought him nearer.
Days went by, and she noticed him around other girls — talking, laughing, sharing, or whatever. Her heart wanted this too. He never had time to seek, or sit beside her. He never tried to talk to her. He was avoiding her, though at the time she wasn’t aware of it. Was she in a haze? Maybe she was preoccupied with worries of her own.
One day her friend came for a visit. He was so enamoured by the girl. He pulled his chair close to her friend to talk. And suddenly it dawned on her that he had no feelings for her.
A pain engulfed her. That night she couldn’t sleep. She wondered at her own stupidity. How could she have been so blind? How did she let her own infatuation grow?
The loss tormented her. There was no respite. She shed tears feeling bereft.
Next morning she got up feeling numb. She picked the photo, and silently returned it to his sister.