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तू ही ये मुझको बता दे, चाहूँ मैं या ना
अपने तू दिल का पता दे, चाहूँ मैं या ना
तू ही ये मुझको बता दे, चाहूँ मैं या ना
अपने तू दिल का पता दे, चाहूँ मैं या ना
इतना बता दूँ तुझको
चाहत पे अपनी मुझको यूँ तो नहीं इख़्तियार
फिर भी ये सोचा दिल ने
अब जो लगा हूँ मिलने, पूछूँ तुझे एक बार, ओ
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The practice hall buzzed with scattered chatter, soft music checks, and the occasional thud of props being moved. It was one of those chaotic days, where almost everything had already been completed only decorations and last-minute rehearsals remained.
Shagun stood near the left side of the stage, pacing back and forth with her script held tightly in her hand. She was repeating her debate points under her breath. Every few seconds, she stopped, inhaled deeply, and resumed her little march, wanting each word to come out flawlessly on the final day.
“Oh hey… all done?” Sahil’s familiar voice drifted from behind, snapping her out of her bubble. Shagun turned and found him smiling.
“Ohh yeah everything is done, thankyou for your help that day,” she said honestly, offering him a grateful smile.
“Oh no problem,” Sahil replied casually, the usual brightness in his eyes.
Shagun hesitated for a moment before adding softly, “Uh… by the way are you ok… like that ball really hit you hard that day.” Her tone held genuine worry.
“Oh yeahhh that’s fine, I’m ok now,” he assured, brushing it off with casual confidence.
“That’s good to hear,” Shagun said with relief. Before either of them could speak further, one of Sahil’s friends called him over from the other end of the hall.
“I’ll see you later,” Sahil said, waving lightly as he walked away. Shagun waved back, turning around only to freeze.
Ruhaan stood a few steps away, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes locked on her. His face was expressionless, but Shagun didn’t need expressions to understand him. His anger was practically radiating off him, silent, sharp, and unmistakable.
Her heart dropped. “Oh no… phirr se nahii,” she whispered to herself, knowing exactly what he must be thinking.
Ruhaan took slow, steady steps toward her, gaze never shifting. Shagun instinctively lifted a hand, trying to explain even before he reached her.
“Ruhaan jaisa tum soch rhe ho vaisa kuch-” But he didn’t let her finish. Without a word, without even a glance of acknowledgment, Ruhaan walked right past her. As if she wasn’t even there. As if the distance between them hadn’t been eating her alive for days.
Shagun stood frozen for a moment, her throat tightening. His cold shoulder hit harder than any argument they’d ever had. Since their fight, they hadn’t spoken properly even once… but this? This silent ignorance pierced straight through her.
“Ruhaan, listen to me please!” She rushed after him, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
But just then, a teacher called out, “Ruhaan! Come here, help me with this shifting!” He halted, turned toward the teacher, and walked away leaving Shagun standing there, her hand half-raised, her explanation swallowed in her throat.
She lowered her hand slowly, a dull ache settling behind her ribs. Dumpfounded, helpless, and hurt… She watched him leave, wondering how something as simple as being ignored by him could sting this much.
—————————————-
The auditorium buzzed with the usual pre-function chaos music on loop, instructions being shouted from different corners, and groups forming and reforming to practice last-minute steps.
In the center of it all, Aditi and Priya were rehearsing with their dance group. Most of the girls had removed their coats for easier movement, and Aditi had done the same, her loose ponytail swaying each time she spun.
Across the room, Ansh stood beside two teachers who were explaining something intensely to him about the next set of performances. He should’ve been paying attention. He really should’ve. But his eyes kept drifting again and again to where Aditi was moving to the rhythm with her usual unbothered grace.
Or rather… drifting to her bare wrist. Her delicate wrist. Without the bracelet. The bracelet he had given her.
A faint drop in his chest made his breath hitch. He tried to reason with himself, but the first sting had already hit was she didn’t wear it. He watched her push her hair behind her ear, laugh at something Priya whispered, and continue dancing without even glancing his way. And yet, even with that ache knocking at his heart, another stubborn, softer part of him whispered back inside his head,
She’ll wear it for sure. She will. Just… maybe not now.
“Ansh are you listening beta?” the teacher’s voice snapped him brutally back to reality.
“Huh… yess ma’am… I got your points… I’ll recheck them with Parul ma’am,” he answered quickly, even though he had barely registered anything.
“Thank you beta… now you can go,” she said, moving on to the next group.
The moment he was free, Ansh exhaled, dragging one hand across his forehead before lightly slapping it in frustration. “Why would she wear it to school man… pagal hi hu main bhi,” he muttered under his breath, scolding himself for expecting something so unrealistic.
Still… he couldn’t help himself. He turned back one last time, stealing a soft, helpless glance at her at the way she twirled, at the faint smile she wore, at that wrist he hoped one day would carry something that belonged to him.
—————————————
The auditorium was scattered with half-opened lunchboxes and exhausted dancers sprawled across the floor, trying to steal a few minutes of rest before the next round of practice.
Aditi, Priya, and Shagun sat together in their little circle. But today, the air around them felt heavier… mostly because Shagun’s face looked like a cloud ready to burst into rain any second.
Aditi nudged her softly. “Kya huaa… abhi bhi tum dono ka matter solve nahi hua kya?”
Shagun let out a tired sigh, poking aimlessly at her food. “Nhii naa… aur ab to had hi hogyi.”
Priya blinked at her, confused. “Ab kya hogaya?”
Shagun finally looked up at them, her voice trembling just a little. “Pehle to bass lad rahe the ham… but ik doosre se baat to kar rahe the laddai main hi sahi, but we were talking. Par aaj… he totally ignored me. Like I never existed.”
Priya’s jaw dropped. “Hein… bhaiya ne tujhe ignore kiya?” Shagun nodded miserably.
Aditi’s eyes softened. “That’s really not a good sign Shagun.”
Shagun swallowed, “Meri hi galti hai… maine hi use itna sab suna diya. It must have hurt him… aur ab vo mujhse baat bhi nahi kar rha.” A lone tear rolled down her cheek before she could hide it.
“Oyee… shhh, ro mat.” Aditi leaned forward immediately, wiping her tear gently with her thumb.
Priya shifted closer, rubbing Shagun’s back. “Hum kuch karte hai. Ruk ja, tu ro mat.”
But Shagun quickly shook her head. “Nhi… tum log faltu main phas jaoge. Main hi aaj use jaake sorry bol dungi.” She stood up abruptly, gathering her courage.
“Abhi jayegi?” Aditi asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion.
“Haan… baad main time nahi hai. Shilpa ma’am chodti nahi hai.” Shagun wiped her face and adjusted her hair, trying to compose herself.
“Khaana to kha le pehle.” Priya said, concerned.
“Aake khati hu, tum khao.” With that, Shagun rushed away.
Aditi watched her go, her heart tightening. “Kaash sab theek ho jaye inke beech… I can’t see her cry.”
Priya sighed, offering a hopeful smile. “Ho jayega. Tu tension mat le. Ruhaan bhaiya bass tang kheech rahe honge iski.”
Aditi looked in the direction Shagun had run off to, worry still lingering in her chest. “Kaash ye sab sach ho…” she whispered, praying silently that Shagun wouldn’t return with a broken heart.
Shagun reached the ground. The benches were crowded with students chatting and eating, but the ground itself was silent except for the echo of a football being hit again and again.
Ruhaan stood at the centre, dribbling with sharp, controlled movements, his jaw tight and his brows furrowed. Every thud of the ball felt like he was trying to tire himself out… or run away from something hurting inside him.
before she could stop herself, her feet were moving. “Ruhaan,” she called out, her voice carrying across the empty ground. He stopped instantly. His teammates followed his line of vision to her, but she didn’t care. Ruhaan sighed, looked at his teammates, then walked toward her with reluctant steps.
“Use kya ghoor rhe ho? Khana khao apna,” he snapped at them, his voice sharp enough to make them look away immediately. But even after that, his expression didn’t soften.
When he finally stopped before her, his gaze held no warmth. “Ab kya hua?” he asked in a cold, flat tone that made her breath catch.
She nervously tugged her fingers together, her voice almost trembling as she whispered, “Aise muh sada ke kyu bol rhe ho?”
His face didn’t change. “Kya kaam hai? Jaldi bolo. Mujhe practice karni hai.” The distance in his voice made her chest tighten painfully. She stared at the ground, gathering courage that felt smaller by the second.
“Vo… main sorry bolne aayi thi,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Ruhaan. I shouldn’t have said those words to you that day… I got it now. Please forgive me.” Her eyes dropped lower, guilt wrapping around her like chains. “I’m really sorry, Ruhaan…” she whispered again, finally looking up with trembling hope.
For a second he softened. His eyes flickered, his lips parted, and his body leaned a little forward like he wanted to pull her close and tell her it was okay. She could see her Ruhaan in that moment, the boy who never let her feel alone.
But before he could say anything, someone shouted from behind him. “Ruhaan! We got a problem here, jaldi aa!” He turned sharply to the commotion where a group of boys were pushing each other, the start of an argument. Duty replaced softness in his eyes.
He looked back at her once, his jaw tense, and said, “Go back inside Shagun, We’ll talk about it later.”Then he ran.
Shagun stood alone, her apology hanging in the cold air. Something inside her cracked quietly, deeply.
Shagun standing in the living room with her palm bleeding from a cut she didn’t dare show, while Shivani cried loudly over a broken toy.
Shreya glared at her and said, “That’s not how you play Shagun… you’re old enough to handle stuff… ye uska favourite toy tha.”
Her father didn’t look at her, didn’t ask if she was hurt. He just patted Shivani’s back and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring another one.” No one saw her shaking hands. No one asked why she was crying.
And when he finally spoke to her, it was only to dismiss her. “You go to your room Shagun.” Just like that. As if she didn’t matter. As if she wasn’t his daughter.
Her breath trembled now in the present, standing on the field where Ruhaan had just walked away. But unlike her father’s coldness, his coldness wasn’t permanent atleast what she thought. He had told her once, in a quiet voice that had melted every wall she carried inside her “I won’t let you feel alone.”
She held onto that, hugging it like a lifeline. “He told me he won’t let me feel alone…” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible as she watched him trying to break up the fight. “He’ll talk to me for sure.”
But hope wasn’t enough to stop the sting in her chest. She blinked quickly, but a tear escaped anyway, warm against her cold cheek. Not wanting anyone to see her break, she turned around and walked away with small, shaky steps.
—————————————-
Priya walked beside Prateek through the quiet corridor, both carrying their anchoring sheets as the teacher had asked them to rehearse separately being the main anchors of the event.
Prateek pushed open a nearby empty classroom and glanced around before saying, “I think this classroom will be fine for practice.” Priya nodded in agreement, stepping inside with him.
“Haa, yaha koi pareshan bhi nhi karega aur ham practice bhi kar payenge,” she said as she set her file on the desk.
Neither of them noticed Charu standing at the far end of the corridor, watching them with clenched teeth. Her eyes burned with jealousy as she muttered, “Ye samjhti kya hai khud ko… abhi batati hu,” and stormed off.
A few minutes later, she tiptoed back toward the same classroom. Inside, Priya and Prateek were practicing their lines, laughing softly at their occasional mistakes. Without hesitation, Charu reached the switch outside and flicked it off, plunging the room into darkness.
“Light chali gayi,” Priya whispered, startled.
“Generator on ho jayega abhi, don’t worry,” Prateek assured her. But before either of them could move, the classroom door slammed shut from outside, followed by the unmistakable click of a lock. Panic instantly washed over them both.
“Hey… kaun hai ye?” Prateek shouted as he rushed to the door. Priya followed, slamming her palm against the wood.
“Hey, open it!” she cried, her voice already trembling.
Outside, Charu smirked, whispering to herself, “Ab maza ayega na jab Ansh tum dono ko yaha pakdega,” before walking away.
Inside, Priya turned to Prateek with wide, panicked eyes. “Ab kya hoga?” she asked, her breath uneven.
“Shh… calm down… kuch nhi hoga,” Prateek tried reassuring her, but she shook her head, stepping back with fear rising inside her.
“Nhii, pakka kisne jaan booch ke kiya hai ye… teachers aa jayengi to kya sochengi? Aur bhaiya… bhaiya ne dekha to bohot bura lagegaa unhe… mujhe bohot darr lag raha hai, kya karenge ham?” she said as tears started spilling down her cheeks.
“Relax, calm down Priya, kuch nhi hoga. Main hoon na…” Prateek murmured, gently cupping her cheeks. She clutched his wrist.
“Par agar ham bahar nahi nikal paye to?” she asked.
“Shhh… ham bahar jaroor nikalenge,” he promised.
“I’m really scared…” she whispered.
“Shh… kuch nhi hoga. I’m here with you, okay? Don’t cry,” he said, softly wiping her tears before pulling her into a comforting hug.
Meanwhile downstairs, Ansh was going through some files when Charu walked toward him with an unusually sweet smile. “Hii Ansh,” she greeted.
“Hello,” he replied coldly, not even looking up.
“Priya kaha hai?” she asked casually.
“She’s practicing,” he said.
“Ohh, anchoring kar rhi hai na vo?”
“Hmm,” he replied, still busy with the papers.
“Kiske sath kar rhi hai?” she pressed.
“Prateek,” he answered simply.
Charu pretended to hesitate before speaking again. “By the way, tumhe nahi lagta ki Priya and Prateek spends most of the time together?”
Ansh looked up instantly. “Kya matlab?”
“Nahi… matlab they’re just friends, I know… but friends aise akele ik khali classroom main thodi na milenge,” she said, stressing the word khali to plant the doubt deeper.
Ansh’s face hardened. “What are you even trying to say?”
Charu acted innocent. “Nahi main to bass ye bol rhi thi ki maine Priya ko upar dekha tha Prateek ke sath khali classroom main… ab main to samajh sakti hu ki they’re just friends, but teachers wagera to ulta hi samjhengi na like…”
“Konsi class main?” Ansh demanded sharply.
“9th B, I guess,” she replied and that was enough. Ansh immediately bolted from his seat. Charu smirked once he disappeared from sight. Ab maza ayega, she thought.
Meanwhile, inside the classroom, Priya sat nervously on a desk while Prateek tried looking out of the window for help.
“Vaise to poora school bhatakta rahega, aaj ik baccha bhi nahi dikh raha,” he muttered. Priya stood up again, worry etched across her face. “Mujhe sach main lag raha hai ki kuch galt hone wala hai,” she said.
Just then, a metallic click echoed through the silent room and the door swung open. Ansh stood there, breath uneven, worry clouding every inch of his face.
“Priya,” he called.
“Bhaiyaa!” Priya rushed to him and immediately threw her arms around him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, pulling her back slightly to check her face.
“Dekh tu jaisa soch raha hai vaisa kuch bhi nahi ok,” Prateek said defensively.
“I know you idiot, shut up,” Ansh snapped, still focused on his sister.
“Tu theek hai Priya?” he asked, softer now. She nodded quickly but tears still clung to her lashes.
“Haa… ham bass practice kar rhe the… phir… phir pata nahi kisi ne hame yaha lock kar diya,” she explained.
“Shhh… no problem. Ab main hoon na. Shh,” Ansh murmured, gently stroking her back.
He turned to Prateek. “Tune kisi ko dekha lock karte hue?” Prateek shook his head.
“Thank God tu aa gaya, warna koi teacher aa jaati to pata nahi kya kya sochti,” Prateek exhaled in relief.
“Tu thoda sa alert nahi reh sakta tha kya?” Ansh scolded him.
“Ab mujhe kya pata tha koi hame yaha band karne wala hai,” Prateek protested.
Priya wiped her tears and looked up. “Par bhaiya, apko kaise pata ham yaha locked hain?”
Ansh sighed. “Vo mujhe Charu ne bataya ki usne tum dono ko akele yaha dekha, and I thought koi ulti seedhi baatein banaye usse pehle main hi tumhe inform kar du.”
Priya and Prateek exchanged a look and everything clicked.
“Ohh to ye uska kaam hai,” Prateek muttered.
“Kiska?” Ansh asked, confused.
Priya stepped forward. “Apko nahi pata bhaiya… par ye Charu jitni seedhi banti hai na, utni hai nahii.usi ne hame lock kiya hoga yaha.”
“Par kyu?” Ansh asked.
Priya explained everything, Charu’s jealousy, her attempts to break them apart for Prateek’s attention.
Prateek crossed his arms. “Aur main bata raha hu, tu back rahiyo, because hame nahi to vo pakka tujhe aur Aditi ke against koi plan banayegi.”
Ansh’s jaw tightened. “I’ll be careful about it.”
Then, in typical big-brother tone, he commanded, “Abhi chalo yaha se. Mere sath hi reh ke practice karo.”
Prateek groaned dramatically. “Ansh, main kya soch raha tha… ham akele achhe se practice kar payenge… neeche bacche pareshan karte hai yrr.”
Ansh shot him the deadliest glare. “Chup chaap neeche chal tu… batau tujhe akele practice karni hai?”
Prateek immediately zipped his mouth, and Priya, relieved and safe, quietly held onto her brother’s arm as they walked out of the dark classroom together
—————————-
Aditi in the evening while getting ready dialed Shagun’s number. She put the phone to her ear, already smiling.
“Hello… Shagun, Priya ke ghar aa ja,” Aditi said cheerfully. But the voice that came from the other side was small… dull… nothing like the usual Shagun.
“Nahi yrr… tu chali ja. I’m not feeling well,” Shagun whispered, her voice weighed down not by sickness, but by disappointment and exhaustion. Ruhaan had promised to talk to her. But he never came. Even during dispersal, he stayed back for practice, leaving her standing alone with all her hopes slowly crumbling.
“Kya hua… tu theek to hai na?” Aditi immediately asked.
“Nahi nahi… bass thoda sa sar dard hai. Theek ho jayega. Tu jaa na.” Shagun forced her tone to stay normal, lying seamlessly something she’d learned after years of hiding tears behind smiles.
Aditi’s worry only grew. “Tu pakka sach bol rahi hai na? Shivani ne kuch kiya? Ya uski maa ne?” she asked, her voice sharp with concern.
“Nahi yrr… faltu ka soch rahi hai tu. Vo dono kuch nahi kar payenge. Bol rahi hu na, thoda sa sar dard hai bass. Shilpa ma’am chilati bhi toh bohot hai na yrr,” Shagun lied again, effortlessly switching blame to school stress.
Aditi exhaled slowly. “Haan ye bhi hai… theek hai chal fir. Tu rest kar. Kuch help chahiye ho toh bata dena, okay?” she said softly.
“Haan… done,” Shagun replied before disconnecting.
As the call ended, Aditi stared at her screen for a moment. “Akele jaana padega,” she muttered, thinking out loud, “Didi se bolti hu, drop kar dengi.”
She walked to Samaira’s room and stopped at the door. Inside, Samaira was standing at her balcony, hands resting on the railing, her expression lost quietly troubled.
She was replaying Aditi’s words from that night, the way her little sister talked about Ansh’s dreams with such maturity, such selflessness. It pricked her heart. She thought of Aman, his excitement about working at a big company, the way he joked about leaving the country just to escape her attitude at first. He had dreams too… dreams she never gave much thought to.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be this much selfish,” she whispered to herself.
But the moment dissolved when “Didiiiiii!” Aditi burst in, voice loud and bright.
Samaira blinked out of her thoughts. “Haan?” she replied.
“Aap free ho toh mujhe Priya ke ghar chhod do?” Aditi asked, hopeful eyes blinking at her.
“Priya ke ghar?” Samaira raised a brow, and Aditi nodded quickly. An idea clicked instantly in Samaira’s mind one she didn’t want Aditi to figure out.
“Theek hai chal… 5 min de. Main bhi chalti hu,” she said, already turning back into her room.
“Aap kyun?” Aditi asked, confused.
“Mujhe bhi kaam hai,” Samaira replied a little too quickly, pulling clothes from her cupboard.
Aditi narrowed her eyes dramatically. “Hmm… kaam. Haan.” Her tone dripped with teasing, making Samaira freeze.
“Bass kar,” Samaira glared playfully. “Chal ja wait kar neeche. Main aati hu.”
Aditi grinned, spun around, and happily skipped downstairs, humming to herself.
As they reached singhania’s residence Aditi walked in and rang the bell and the door was opened by ansh making both of them freeze.
Aditi stepped inside the house she greeted Ansh with a gentle “Hii,” her voice warm.
“Hii,” he replied. His eyes instinctively drifted to her wrist bare, delicate, empty. The moment he didn’t find the bracelet, something inside him loosened painfully. She didn’t wear it… again. The thought echoed in his chest, dull and heavy, like a quiet disappointment he didn’t want to admit.
Trying not to show any of it, he cleared his throat.
“Priya hai kya ghar pe?” Aditi asked.
“Haa hai… apne room main,” Ansh said, keeping his tone steady even when his thoughts weren’t.
“Okk, thank you,” she smiled politely and walked past him. He watched her go her hair swaying softly, her steps light yet all he could see was that empty wrist.
Before he could sink deeper into the thought, another voice disrupted the air.
“Ohh hii, Ansh,” Samaira said, entering the house with her confident stride.
“Hii, Didi,” Ansh greeted with a small smile.
“Aman hai?” she asked casually, though her eyes had a hopeful spark he didn’t miss.
“Haa, apne room mein.”
“Okay, thanks.” She paused, then asked, “Uncle aunty hai kya ghar pe?”
“Nhi… bahar gaye hue hain kuch kaam se.”
Samaira’s eyes brightened instantly. “Boht badhiya,” she muttered under her breath.
“Kyu?” Ansh questioned, narrowing his eyes.
“Kuch nhi,” she replied quickly and hurried upstairs, leaving him frowning.
Upstairs, Samaira paused outside Aman’s door, her heart thumping. So much had happened, her avoiding him, her confusing emotions, his disappearance. But right now, she only felt the urge to see him.
She knocked softly.
“Khula hai,” Aman’s voice came.
She opened the door gently and peeked inside. Aman was sitting at his table, scribbling down something from his laptop screen. When he turned and saw her standing there he froze. His breath hitched as if he were looking at a ghost, someone he had wished for but didn’t expect to appear.
“Hii,” Samaira said, raising a hand in a small wave, her smile hesitant but full of warmth.
Aman blinked once, twice and slowly stood up. The chair rolled back slightly as he walked toward her, uncertainty in every step until he realized she wasn’t imaginary and she wasn’t leaving.
“Tum yaha?” he whispered, afraid the moment would shatter.
“Tumse door nahi reh payi,” she replied softly.
And then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. The moment her warmth touched him, Aman exhaled a trembling breath and hugged her back instantly tight, desperate, relieved. His arms circled her waist as if grounding himself after days of drifting, and his face buried into her neck with a sense of peace he hadn’t felt since the last time she’d held him.
“I thought I lost you as well,” he murmured, voice breaking slightly against her skin.
Samaira tightened her hold. “Shhh… I’m not going to leave you that easily,” she whispered, her hand sliding gently into his hair.
They stood there two people who had been aching for each other wrapped in a long overdue embrace.
Until…
Ahem.
Ahem-ahem-ahem.
Both of them jumped apart like guilty teenagers caught red-handed. They turned slowly. Vivaan stood on the bed. Covered entirely with a blanket. Only his eyes peeking out.
“Kyaa aap dono iss chuuhe ko yaha se jaane denge… kyunki main aap dono ka sambhog dekh ke paapi nahi banna chahta,” he declared dramatically from inside the blanket.
“What is he doing here?” Samaira whispered in horror. Aman rubbed his face with both hands, fully mortified.
“Vo… kya hai na Dii… bhaiya ke room mein neend achhi aati hai mujhe… to main yaha so raha tha.” Vivaan lowered the blanket slightly, glaring at them. “But I guess Ansh bhaiya ka room pakana padega.”
Still wrapped in the blanket like a burrito, Vivaan hopped off the bed, shuffled toward the door, and swung it open.
“Aap dono enjoy kijiye…,” he said with a flourish and marched out, leaving Samaira and Aman standing in the middle of the room, red-faced, breathless, and finally after days together
Aman exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment while Samaira tried to calm her racing heartbeat. A few seconds passed in silence before she remembered why she had come in the first place.
She stepped closer to him, folding her arms gently. “Aman… tumne TCS ko acceptance mail bheja ya nahi?” she asked, her tone calm but firm. Aman’s face instantly fell. His eyes avoided hers, shifting to the table, the laptop, anywhere but her.
“I’m… not going,” he said quietly.
Samaira blinked, stunned. “What?”
“I’m not going to London,” he repeated, this time looking into her eyes with a finality that scared her. “Main tum sabko chhod ke kaise jaa sakta hoon? How am I supposed to live away from this house? From everyone? From you?”
His voice broke like something fragile inside him had cracked under pressure. Samaira stared at him, her heart tugging painfully, but she held herself steady.
“Aman…” she whispered, “maine uss dinn bass gusse main bol diya tha I’m sorry for that….but ye jo tum jane ke liye mana kar rhe ho na it’s really not funny”
“I know Samaira” he said, his breath trembling now. “but tum samajhti kyu nahi? I can’t do this. I can’t live there without you. Without Ansh, Vivaan, Priya… without this place. Main kaise jaaun? Kaise manage karu? Tum nahi hogi mere paas. Main… main bilkul akela pad jaunga.”
She watched him his teary eyes, his trembling shoulders, the fear buried so deep it made him look younger than he was.
Then she stepped closer, almost chest to chest.
“Aman, liaten to me” she said, her voice suddenly stern. “Ye tumhare dreams hai. Tumhara future hai. Tumhari zindagi ka sabse bada mauka hai.”
He shook his head instantly. “Mere liye tum sab important ho. Dreams baad mein”
“NO,” she said sharply, surprising him. “Pehle dreams. Pehle tum.” He froze.
Samaira’s eyes softened, but her tone didn’t. “Tumne khud mujhse bola tha… that someday you want to handle your father’s company make it most successful in the world. Apne Papa ko chachaji ko sabko proud feel karwana chahte ho. Aur ab? Ab isliye give up kar doge kyunki tumhe hum sab yaad aayenge?”
Aman’s throat tightened. He tried opening his mouth, but no words came out.
Samaira stepped even closer, lifting her hands to cup his cheeks gently. “Aman… bina skills ke bina exposure ke bina experience ke… kaise fulfill karoge unka sapna? Tum jaante ho ye internship kya value rakhti hai? It’s everything you need to grow.”
Aman shut his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were glossy with tears.
“Mujhse nahi hoga Samaira… main…” His voice cracked painfully. “Main jaa hi nahi sakta. Tumse door jaa ke main… I’m scared.”
His fear was raw. Unguarded. Honest.
And something inside Samaira melted.
She leaned in slowly, her forehead touching his.
“tum muhse kabhi door nahi ja skte main hamesha tumhare paas hi rahungi…physically na sahi but my soul is always with you,” she whispered. “and this mere distance wouldn’t break us apart…it’s juat a matter of 2 years.”
Aman’s breath hitched, his eyes closing again as if he couldn’t hold himself together anymore.
“Aur tum kar sakte ho,” she whispered next, her voice suddenly soft… impossibly soft. “I know mera zinda statue sab kuch kar skta hai.”
Before he could protest, before he could talk himself out of it again, Samaira gently cupped the back of his neck and leaned forward.
Her lips brushed his, slow, hesitant, almost unsure. It wasn’t perfect.It wasn’t long either. It was soft. Imperfect. A little trembling. But it was real. Like a promise being sealed.
Aman froze for a heartbeat, breath caught in his throat. And then he leaned into it, just slightly, just enough to show he felt every bit of it.
When she pulled back, her lips still inches from his, she whispered against his breath,”You can.” Her thumb brushed his cheek where a tear had escaped. “And you will.”
Aman swallowed hard, staring at her as if she had just taught him how to breathe again.
—————————————
The hall was lit warmly, laughter echoing lightly as Suhani’s friends sat scattered across the sofa and carpet. Shagun, lost in her own thoughts, stepped out of her room with her empty glass in hand. Her mind was too tired, too heavy from the day’s emotional weight to even register the voices in the living room. She just needed a glass of water.
But the moment she entered the hallway, all eyes turned to her.
Rohit, one of Suhani’s friends, the one she knew Suhani had a crush on noticed her first. His curious eyes followed her until he leaned a little closer to Suhani and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Is she your sister? You never introduced us.”
Suhani’s face fell instantly annoyance, embarrassment, irritation flashing across her features. Her lips twitched in an unhappy smile as she let out a forced laugh.
“Haan… sister,” she said, as if confessing something humiliating. “Ye Shagun hai.”
Shagun paused mid-step, glass in hand, her polite instinct kicking in despite Suhani’s tone. She offered a small, warm smile.
“Hii,” she greeted softly. “Nice to meet you all.”
But before anyone could respond, Suhani jumped in her voice drenched in sarcasm.
“Waise isse dekhke shock mat hona… ghar mein itni invisible rehti hai na ki kabhi kabhi mujhe bhi yaad karna padta hai ki ye exist karti hai.” Laughter bubbled among a few of the girls. One shoved Suhani’s shoulder playfully, encouraging her cruelty.
Shagun’s smile faltered for just a second. Just a second but enough. She slowly turned her head to look at Suhani, her expression calm but her eyes sharp with a silent warning.
“Of course invisible rahungi,” she replied in a soft, steady voice that sliced through Shivani’s mockery. “Jab saath mein tumhari jaise drama queen ho to attention toh wahi jayega na.”
A couple of the friends choked on their giggles. Suhani’s face flushed first disbelief, then anger. No one talked back to her, especially not Shagun.
But before Shivani could respond, Shagun lifted her glass slightly in a polite gesture. “Excuse me,” she added calmly, and walked toward the kitchen without looking back.
Her steps were composed. Her back was straight.Her dignity untouched if anything, shining brighter.
_______________________
Aditi and Priya sat cross-legged on Priya’s bed, leaning over a large notebook filled with their last minute plans. They were so lost in deciding what will they do after their performance tomorrow that the sudden knock on the door made both of them look up.
“Priya… did you saw mammy ne pasta kaha rakha hai?” Ansh asked from the doorway, peeking inside with his usual calm expression.
“Aap pasta bana rhe hain?” Priya practically bounced on the bed, excitement bubbling in her voice as Aditi blinked, confused but amused.
“Ha I thought,” Ansh replied simply.
“Ik sec main deti hu, chalo!” Priya said, jumping off the bed and rushing out, leaving Aditi alone in the room.
Aditi quickly stood up too, brushing off her kurti and glancing at Ansh with a small teasing smile. “Hum allowed to hain na kitchen main?”
“Of course,” he said, a small smile tugging his lips.
The two walked to the kitchen, and the moment they entered, they found Priya already climbing onto the counter half kneeling, half dangling to reach the top shelf.
“Aram se Priya… gir jaogi,” Ansh warned, stepping forward.
“Mil gaya… haas!” Priya triumphantly held up the container filled with pasta.
“Bhaiya lo,” she said, handing it to Ansh, who gently held her arm and helped her climb down safely.
“Aur kuch chahiye?” Priya asked eagerly.
“Nahi main ban lunga,” Ansh replied, already pulling out vegetables.
“Okk to hum yahi reh kar dekhenge… chalega na?” Priya asked.
Ansh nodded, and both girls hopped onto the kitchen countertop legs dangling, eyes bright watching him chop vegetables with ease.
The kitchen soon filled with the fragrance of sizzling garlic and oregano, making Priya and Aditi inhale deeply.
“Khusbuu badhiyaaa aa rhi hai… haina?” Priya said. Aditi nodded quickly, her stomach already growling.
“Jaldi jaldi de do mujhe bhaiya!” Priya begged, holding out an empty plate.
“Pehle Aman bhaiya and Samaira didi ko de ke aao unke room main… ye lo.”
Ansh handed her two plates of pasta.
Priya sulked dramatically. “Theek hai… par aap dono saara mat kha jana!” she warned before leaving.
Ansh picked up another plate and walked toward Aditi, offering it gently. “Ye lo.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, taking it. She took the first bite and her eyes widened. The taste exploded across her tongue. “It’s so tasty… aap itna achha pasta bnate hain apne bataya bhi nahi?” she said.
“Tumne kabhi poocha hi nahi,” Ansh replied with a warm smile.
Just then Priya rushed back in, breathless. “Aa gyii main, mujhe bhi do!”
Ansh handed her a plate and she immediately dug in, stuffing her mouth like she hadn’t eaten in days.
“Priya aram se khao,” Ansh scolded lightly.
“Bhaiya boht tasty hai… control nahi ho raha!” she said, cheeks puffed with pasta.
A sudden click echoed in the room. Priya froze. She slowly turned her head… and saw Aditi holding her phone, grinning wickedly.
“Aeee… ye kya kar rahi hai?” Priya shrieked.
“Bhaiya ko bhejungi… bilkul ussi ki tarah kha rhi hai tu bhi!” Aditi teased, laughing, pasta forgotten on the counter.
“Pagal hai kya!” Priya panicked, lunging for the phone.
“Haa ruk jara iss angle se lene de… yaha se aur gandi aa rahi hai!” Aditi laughed, running around the kitchen while clicking more pictures.
“Bass bhi karo, kha to lo pehle,” Ansh tried saying, but both girls ignored him completely.
“Ruka ja Aditi! Agar tune ik bhi photo bheji na to tera bhi saara pasta kha jaungi main!” Priya threatened.
But Aditi already smirked and flipped her phone around. “Oopss… bhej di.” Priya gasped and immediately snatched Aditi’s plate before sprinting away.
“OYEEE! Mujhe bhi khana hai, rukk!” Aditi yelled and chased after her.
Priya’s door slammed shut with dramatic force, her voice ringing through the hallway. “Ab nahi dungi! Jaa bhaad mein!” she shouted, already stuffing her mouth with Aditi’s stolen pasta as if it were her birthright.
Outside the door, Aditi almost collapsed in despair. “Nhi sorry… mujhe bhi khana hai! Ik hi bite khayi thi maine!” she whined, knocking helplessly on the door like a starving victim in a family melodrama.
And behind her somewhere near the kitchen entrance came a soft sound. A chuckle. Warm, quiet, uncontrollable.
She turned around slowly, only to find Ansh leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching her with a smile he didn’t even bother to hide. His eyes sparkled with amusement so soft, so unguarded, she almost forgot about the pasta tragedy.
“Aap hass kyu rhe hain?” she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him and trying very hard not to blush.
“Tum dono ki ladai dekh ke hasi aa rhi hai,” he said, giving one of those small, rare smiles that made her heartbeat lose rhythm.
“To boliye na apni behen ko mujhe mera pasta waps kar de!” she complained, pointing accusingly at Priya’s door like a kid robbed of candy.
Inside, Priya yelled with her mouth full, “Nhi dungi!”
“Kuttiiii!” Aditi shouted back, stomping her foot.
And just then another click echoed. Aditi stiffened. Ansh had taken a picture of her this time, capturing her mid-anger, mid-whine, mid-cute-disaster.
“Ye apne kya kiya?” she asked, scandalized.
kuch bhi to nahi” He only shrugged with a small, teasing tilt of his head. Then he stepped closer, holding out his own untouched plate of pasta.
“tum ye wala kha lo,” he said softly.
Aditi blinked, stunned for a second first at the gesture, then at the warmth in his eyes. He was offering his plate. Not sharing. Giving.
“Aap nahi khayenge?” she asked, her voice suddenly much smaller, much softer.
“Nahi… tum kha lo,” he replied, gently pressing the plate into her hands.
And without waiting for her to protest, he turned and walked toward his room quiet, calm, and unaware of the storm he had just stirred inside her chest.
Aditi stood frozen for a moment, her mind replaying the sight of Ansh walking away without taking a single bite. A strange heaviness tugged at her chest. Without thinking twice, she spun on her heel, rushed back into the kitchen, grabbed the pasta, and quickly scooped half of Ansh’s portion onto a separate plate.
With the plate balanced carefully in her hands, she walked toward his room, her heartbeat louder than her footsteps.
She paused at his half-open door and knocked softly. Ansh turned around from his chair, about to start watching a lecture on his laptop, but the moment he saw her standing there plate in hand he shot up to his feet, shock flashing through his eyes.
Aditi walked inside quietly and placed the plate on his study table. “Kha lijiyega isse,” she said, her voice gentle but firm.
Ansh frowned slightly. “Tum nahi khaogi?” he asked, genuinely confused.
She lifted her chin a little. “Main kisi ke hisse ka khana nahi khati… vo baat alag hai apne diya tha to adha nikal liya maine apne liye.” Her gaze didn’t waver from his face, her honesty as straightforward as ever.
Ansh took a step closer, studying her expression. “Does this apply only on food?” he asked, his voice low careful, almost vulnerable.
Aditi swallowed, crossing her arms lightly over her chest. “Hmm… that depends actually.”
His eyes dropped for a moment, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Like how it does not apply on that bracelet? you didn’t wore it…”
The words slipped out of him before he could stop them. Aditi’s breath hitched her cheeks warming instantly. The unspoken hurt in his tone pierced right through her.
“It’s not like that… it’s just-” she began, scrambling to explain, but he gently cut her off.
“It’s ok…” he said with a small smile, though the pain behind it didn’t hide well. “I understand. You don’t feel that way… and it’s totally fine.”
Her heart clenched. She opened her mouth to say something anything but before a single word could escape, Samaira’s voice echoed from outside the room.
“Adu… chal ghar chal, mammy-papa ane wale hain, late ho raha hai!” Samaira called out loudly.
“2 minute dii” Aditi tried to protest, stepping slightly toward the door but looking back at Ansh desperately, wanting to finish the conversation.
“Are bss bhi karo yrr, kitna romance karoge… chal tu!” Samaira teased shamelessly as she entered, grabbed Aditi’s arm, and began dragging her away. “School main kar lena bacha hua kal!”
Aditi glanced back at Ansh helplessly, her eyes saying all the things she couldn’t say out loud.
“Bye Ansh!” Samaira chirped.
“Bye dii,” Ansh replied, giving her a polite smile before his eyes inevitably drifted back to Aditi.
___________________________________________
Dinner time at the shagun’s house was always a quiet display of wealth and tension. Suresh sat at the head of the long marble table, eyes glued to his phone, while Shreya helped herself to food with the kind of elegance that always tried too hard.
When Shagun walked in and moved toward her usual seat at the far end, Suresh’s voice suddenly cut through the silence.
“Shagun… sit here today,” he said, tapping the chair beside him. She froze, startled, he never asked for her, never looked at her like that.
Shreya’s spoon hit her plate a little too loudly. “But that’s Suhani’s place, Suresh,” she protested sharply.
“I know. I want Shagun to sit here today. Suhani agli table pe baith jayegi,” he replied, tone cold and final, the kind that made everyone’s spine stiffen. Shreya clenched her jaw, her displeasure obvious.
Just then, Suhani entered scrolling her phone, glossy and pampered as always ready to slide into her usual place when Suresh stopped her.
“Suhani, go sit beside your mom today. Let Shagun sit here.” Suhani blinked, confused.
“But why, Dad? It’s my-” Suhani protested.
“No arguments. Just go.” His voice left no room for rebellion, and Suhani sulked her way to her mother’s side.
“Shagun, sit here, beta,” he repeated, the word beta making Shagun pause mid-step. Her father hadn’t called her that in years.
Is he… alright? she wondered, heart stumbling in her chest. She lowered herself onto the chair carefully, as if afraid the moment might shatter.
As she quietly began eating her movements small, almost invisible Suresh watched her for a moment. “Everything’s fine, Shagun?” he asked, and for the first time in years she saw something like concern flicker in his eyes.
She forced a tiny smile. “Hmm… yeah.”
“I heard tumhare school mein annual function ho raha hai,” he asked gently, but before she could answer, Suhani’s sugary voice broke in. “Vo chhodo, Dad! Aapko pata hai? Mere school wale trip pe le jaa rahe hain…Manali for five days. I want to go!”
“Then go. How much is the payment?” he asked without hesitation.
“12,000, Dad,” Suhani said instantly, almost brightening.
“Hmm. Okay.” He nodded.
“And Dad… 10,000 extra de dena? Shopping bhi karni hai,” she added, leaning forward like a princess making a royal decree.
Suresh frowned. “I sent 20,000 to you last month for that.”
“Arey vo toh ghar ke kapdon mein chale gaye, na,” Shreya chimed in sweetly. “Now she’s going to Manali, she should have new clothes.”
“Okay, I’ll see.” he nodded.
Just like that… the world shifted back to normal. Suhani’s laughter filled the table, Shreya’s voice danced around Suresh, and once again Shagun’s existence faded, swallowed by their noise. His moment of concern vanished as quickly as it came.
Her chest tightened. All the memories hit her at once her father lovingly holding her hand as a child, the warmth that slowly dissolved over the years, leaving her alone in a house full of people. And now… even Ruhaan, who once promised her more love than she had ever received, had begun pulling away too.
The ache became too heavy.
Shagun suddenly pushed her chair back, her voice barely steady. “I’m full,” she said, even though her plate was hardly touched.
Without waiting for anyone to respond, she walked away, her footsteps echoing in the silent corridor until she reached her room where the door finally closed behind her, sealing in all the hurt she could no longer swallow.
______________________________________________
It was the day of the Annual Function the most awaited evening of the school year. The campus, usually quiet by late afternoon, buzzed with unusual excitement.
Students hurried across the corridors, some volunteering, some doing last-minute rehearsals, while teachers rushed around giving instructions.
In a silent corner of the auditorioum, Riva sat hunched over her desk, completing her pending classwork with full concentration. Meanwhile, a few chairs away, Vivaan sat with a strange, suspicious intensity in his eyes the kind of look that immediately made people believe he was planning something he absolutely shouldn’t.
“Divya ka bag konsa hai tumko pta hai na?” he suddenly asked, leaning closer to Riva with unnecessary seriousness.
Riva frowned instantly. “Kyu… tum kya karoge jaan ke?”
“Khurafat,” he declared proudly, a wicked smirk stretching on his lips.
“Kaisi khurafat?” she asked, already regretting the question.
“Tumse matlab nahi. Batao bas bag kaunsa hai jaldi.”
“Main nahi bata rahi. Bhaad mein jao,” she snapped.
But Vivaan was Vivaan stubborn, unpredictable, and allergic to hearing ‘no.’ He simply leaned forward and asked the girl sitting in front, who too innocently pointed out Divya’s bag.
“Chalo,” he said, already standing up.
“Kaha?” Riva looked at him in pure confusion.
“Adventure pe. Kuch dikhana hai tumhe,” he said with the confidence of someone who always dragged her into trouble.
Riva muttered under her breath, “Khud to marega, saath mein mujhe bhi marvayega,” but reluctantly shoved her notebook aside and followed him through the corridor. Vivaan walked with a mission, and Riva, half-worried and half-curious, trailed after him until he suddenly stopped in front of the old store room.
“Yaha kya karoge ab tum?” she asked, eyebrows scrunched.
“Chalo na… tumko kisi se milvata hoon,” he said mysteriously.
“Yaha kaun hai?” she asked, stepping inside carefully. Vivaan grinned, grabbed the handle of a metal cage hidden behind a carton, and swung it forward.
“Ye… Mr. Asli Chuha ji,” he announced dramatically. Inside the cage, a tiny mouse jumped around frantically.
“Maaaammmmyyyy!” Riva shrieked and jumped back, heart almost breaking out of her chest.
“Muh band rakho meri maa! Sabko bulaogi kya?” Vivaan hissed, holding her by the shoulders to stop her trembling.
“Ye–ye–ye tum kaha se laaye?” she asked, still wide-eyed.
“Ye toh yahi rehta hai. Maine toh bas isse pakda hai. Pure panch dinn lage. Upar se ten cubes Amul cheese ke,” he said with pride, as if capturing a mouse was an Olympic achievement.
“But tumne ye pakda kyun?!” Riva asked
“Apna kaam karwane ke liye.” he said casually.
“Kaisa kaam?”she asked.
“Bag kaatne ka,” he said casually, as though this was the most normal plan in the world.
“Kiska bag? …Divya ka?” she whispered.
He smirked. “Are wah… pehli baar kuch samajh aaya tumko.”
“Chalo, performance ke pehle jab vo apna bag lene aayegi, uske aane se pehle ye uske bag mein daalna hai,” he said, already getting up.
“Aeee! Nahi nahi NHI! Pagal ho gaye ho kya? karne kya ja rhe ho tum pta bhi hai tumhe?!” Riva nearly grabbed his hand to stop him.
“Arre, bataya toh. Uske bag mein daalne ja raha hoon,” he repeated calmly.
“Aur pakde gaye toh?!” she said
“Tab ki tab dekh lenge. Chalo ab!”
“Nahi! Hum ye nahi kar rahe!” she protested.
“Kya nahi nahi nahi, yaar? Revenge nahi lena Divya se?” he asked, offended.
“Lena hai… par aise kaun leta hai?!” she said.
“Hum. Aur kaun?” he said proudly.
“NAHI!” Riva refused again.
Vivaan took a deep breath, now serious. “Listen… tum ya toh isme mera saath do. Warna main ye khud akela kar lunga.”
“Nahi Vivaan, why don’t you understand? Agar pakde gaye toh inquiry bitha denge school wale!”
“Agar pakde gaye toh I’ll take the blame. Tumko kuch nahi hoga. But hum ye aaj kar ke rahenge,” he said with a sincere stubbornness that terrified her even more.
“But-” she wisperred.
“Bas bhi karo yaar! Plan bhool jaaunga!” he groaned, and before she could protest again, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the participants’ classroom the cage hidden inside his coat.
The room was empty, everyone busy preparing in the auditorium. Vivaan hurried straight to Divya’s bag and motioned Riva to unzip it slightly. With trembling hands, she did as told. Vivaan opened the tiny cage, tilted it, and the mouse leapt straight into the bag. He shut the cage and zipped the bag back up quickly.
“Finally,” he exhaled triumphantly.
“Ab?” Riva whispered.
“Ab… wait karte hain,” he said, already striding out of the room.
Riva stared at him, bewildered. Ye thoda khiska hua hai kya? she wondered, following him helplessly. because as always, Vivaan’s chaos had swallowed her whole before she even realized it.
after some time the backstage dressing room was a whirlwind, girls rushing around with makeup kits, dupattas flying from one chair to another. The annual function was just minutes away, and Divya stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her eyeliner with exaggerated confidence.
“Girls, hurry up! I need my dupatta, otherwise the spotlight will look empty without me,” Divya declared, flipping her hair with the grace of someone who thought she owned the entire auditorium.
Her two friends giggled and nodded, hyping her up like usual.
Divya turned toward her bag, lying neatly in the corner. She unzipped it with a flourish, fishing blindly for her dupatta.
But the moment her fingers brushed against something soft… something moving…
Her smile froze. Her breath caught. And then—
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!!!” A blood-curdling scream ripped through the whole dressing room as a tiny brown mouse shot straight out of her bag like a missile and jumped onto her arm.
“OH MY GOD—GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!!” Divya shrieked, shaking her hands so violently her bangles clattered like an alarm bell.
Her friends screamed too, but instead of helping, they climbed onto chairs, hugging each other like the apocalypse had arrived.
The mouse, equally terrified, ran up Divya’s shoulder, skidded across her back, and jumped down onto her dupatta.
“AHHHH MERE UPPAR KYU AA RAHA HAI YEEE!!!” Divya wailed as she twirled in panic, looking like she was doing some aggressive classical dance.
The mouse landed on the floor and darted across the room, making every girl jump, shriek, or nearly faint. Someone threw a makeup brush at it. Another girl dropped her entire palette, powders exploding like Holi colors everywhere.
At this point, Divya was sobbing without tears. Then came the teacher.
“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!”A furious voice sliced through the chaos as it was teacher who came there with rahul holding some of thier props. The dressing room went silent, except for Divya’s dramatic hiccups.
“Ma’am… ma’am… there… there was…” Divya pointed at the floor, trembling.
“A mouse, ma’am! it came from Divuya’s bag” one of her friends squeaked from the top of the table.The teacher’s eyes widened and then narrowed even more.
“How did a mouse get into your bag Divya?! This is a school auditorium, not a zoo!” the teacher scolded.
“I-I don’t know!” Divya cried, still shaking. “It just… came out!”
Her friends, instead of comforting her, stepped away with disgusted expressions. Even Rahul made a disgusted face as well saying “Ewww, Divya… you keep such dirty things in your bag?”
“Gross, yaar… imagine if it was there all the time…” one of her dance member said
“Divya, seriously? So unhygienic…” another one commented as well.
“WHAT?!” Divya looked betrayed. “It wasn’t my mouse! Are you all mad?!”
The teacher pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Enough. Clean this mess immediately. And Divya, fix yourself before going on stage. You look like you fought a tornado.”
Divya wilted like a dying plant, her makeup smudged, hair messy, dupatta on the floor, heart broken, dignity evaporated.
The girls whispered behind her back as she sat down miserably, still trembling.
And somewhere outside the room, two certain idiots one smirking wildly, one regretting her life choices were probably high-fiving.
maza hi aa gaya” Vivaan said while laughing to himself meanwhile riva just couldn’t control her own laughter seeing a joker in front of her as well.
_______________________________________
Ruhaan was juggling four tasks at once. His head throbbed, irritation simmering under his skin.
“Ruhaan, greenroom jao… mic-stand issues check karo,” a teacher ordered, thrusting a clipboard against his chest.
“ok ma’am,” he muttered and pushed open the greenroom door.
The noise outside died instantly. As if someone had turned down the world’s volume. Ruhaan took one step inside… then stopped breathing altogether.
In the farthest corner of the room, sat Shagun. The debate sheet lay limp in her hands, forgotten. Her eyes weren’t reading. They weren’t focusing. They weren’t even blinking properly.
She was staring at nothing, absolutely nothing as if everything around her had faded away.
Her shoulders were curved inwards, small and tired. Her fingers pressed the paper too tightly, like the only thing keeping her from falling apart was the flimsy sheet in her hands.
Ruhaan froze at the doorway. His stomach dropped. A sharp, heavy guilt punched through him. He messed up.
Only now, staring at her lost expression, did it finally hit him brutally, unforgivingly that how badly he’d hurt her. How carelessly he had walked past her feelings. How stupidly he had assumed she would be fine… because she always seemed fine.
He had been egoistic. Distracted. Busy. Telling himself he’d talk to her later. And all that time… she was breaking in ways he didn’t even bother to see. His grip tightened around the clipboard until his knuckles ached.
He stepped forward slowly, as if approaching a wounded bird that might fly away the second he came too close.
He crossed the room, each step heavy with regret. Just as he reached her, the debate sheet slid out of her loose fingers and drifted to the floor.
She didn’t even notice. Something twisted painfully inside his chest. Ruhaan bent down slowly, picked up the sheet the warmth of her hands still on it and exhaled shakily.
“Shagun…” he said softly, gently, almost pleadingly. Her eyes lifted for the briefest second dull, confused, emotionless before dropping again. That single second broke him.
Ruhaan sat down slowly, almost cautiously, as if one wrong move would shatter the fragile silence around her.
The plastic chair creaked under his weight, but Shagun didn’t even react. She just kept staring at the floor, eyelashes still, face blank, hands resting lifelessly on her lap.
He placed the debate sheet on her knee gently hoping she would look at him, or at least blink, or something but nothing.
For a second, Ruhaan just watched her… this girl who used to fill every room with her noise and spark and unnecessary, adorable hyperness… now sitting like someone had switched off her entire world.
His throat tightened. He leaned forward slightly, voice low, softened by guilt he didn’t know how to hold anymore.
“Shagun…” It came out almost like a plea. She didn’t look up.
“I know I’m a jerk,” he finally said, his voice breaking just a little. “But… I’m sorry. I totally forgot about it.” His words dropped into the silence like tiny stones into a deep well. They made a sound but they didn’t reach her.
she breathed in, slow and barely noticeable, and whispered, “…it’s ok.”
Just a cold, quiet, distant “it’s ok” the kind she didn’t mean at all. It broke him.
Ruhaan watched her start to walk away, her steps slow, quiet, almost lifeless and everything inside him twisted. It scared him more than if she had shouted at him.
“Shagun… wait,” Ruhaan said quickly, stepping forward, his hand catching her wrist before she slipped away again.
She didn’t turn. Didn’t jerk her hand back. She just stood there still, tired, cold.
“Can we please talk?” his voice dropped, guilt spilling into every word.
He gently tugged her into the small storage room attached to the auditorium greenroom, shutting the door behind them. The dim yellow bulb flickered once before settling, casting soft shadows on Shagun’s face.
She still wasn’t looking at him.
Ruhaan stepped closer, voice low and trembling. “Shagun… I’m sorry. I really am. I…I forgot I had to talk to you. Everything got so messed up. Practice, teachers… then Mom called so I had to go to the hospital after practice… and then I came back late and-“
“I said it’s okay.” Her tone was flat. Emotionless. It cut deeper than any yelling could.
“No,” Ruhaan whispered, shaking his head. “It’s not okay. You’re not okay. I can see it.”
Shagun finally looked up at him eyes empty, heavy, hurting in ways she didn’t know how to say. Ruhaan’s chest tightened painfully.
“Please… talk to me,” he pleaded. “I hate when you go quiet like this.”
She blinked, face unreadable. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”
She tried to walk past him. Ruhaan acted on pure instinct pulling her gently, but firmly, back into him. Her back hit his chest, his arms caging her in so she wouldn’t slip away.
“Shagun… please,” he whispered into her hair, broken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ignore you because I wanted to. I was just caught up. Stupid. I messed up. I know.”
Still nothing. Her silence was killing him. He turned her around and held her shoulders, bending a little to catch her eyes. “It won’t happen again. I hate that I made you feel this way. Just look at me, na… please.”
Shagun’s chest heaved once, twice, and suddenly her voice came out in a broken whisper that punched every bit of breath out of him. “Why do you all do this…?” Her voice shook as she hit his chest weakly, her fists not hurting him but destroying him anyway.
“Why do you all lie…? Why make fake promises…?” Another hit. Harder this time. “If you wanted to ignore me… forget I exist… then why did you say you’ll love me more than my papa?”
Ruhaan’s eyes widened, heart twisting as her voice cracked into a sob.
“He did the same thing to me…” she choked out, still hitting his chest with trembling hands, “And now you as well… Everyone leaves. Everyone forgets. Sahi kehte hai log… I shouldn’t have trusted anyone with my heart”
Her words broke mid-sentence as her knees weakened. Before she could fall, Ruhaan grabbed her, pulling her tightly into his chest. She didn’t resist she collapsed against him, burying her face in his shirt as years of held-back hurt poured out of her in shaking sobs. Her fists kept hitting him…but softer now…tired…pained…until finally they just gripped the fabric of his shirt and held on.
Ruhaan’s arms wrapped around her with a desperation he had never felt before, his own eyes burning as he held her as tightly as he could. “Shagun… bas… enough…” he whispered into her hair, voice breaking, “I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry… I swear I regret every second of making you feel like this… Aaj ke baad kabhi bhi ladhai nahi karunga… kabhi nahi… promise. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
His voice cracked on the last line because seeing her like this, shaking in his arms, trusting him even while breaking it shattered him just as much as she was shattered.
Slowly, her sobs softened. She pulled back just a little, her cheeks wet, lashes clumped with tears, the tip of her nose pink from crying. Ruhaan gently wiped her face with his thumbs, brushing every tear away as if each one personally accused him. “Aaj ke baad,” he whispered, “I won’t ever do this again. I swear on my mom. If you want, you can hit me more… even slap me. I deserve it.”
Shagun looked at him and before he could expect anything, she did it. A small slap landed on his cheek. Not harsh. Not angry. Just… hurt. Honest. Raw. Ruhaan blinked, stunned for a second.
But before guilt could swallow him again, her hands came up to his face… and she cupped his cheeks softly. Her thumbs brushed his skin where she had slapped him. And then without warning, without hesitation she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
A soft, trembling kiss. A kiss that tasted like leftover tears and stored-up ache. A kiss that wasn’t long, but carried everything she couldn’t say in words every fear, every longing, every moment she had missed him.
She pulled back just an inch, her lips brushing his as she whispered breathlessly, “I hate you.”
That was all Ruhaan needed. In one swift motion, he held her waist and pulled her back into him, crushing his lips against hers in a kiss that wasn’t soft anymore, it was desperate, aching, full of emotion he had been running from for days. His hand slid to the back of her neck, tilting her head slightly as he deepened the kiss, their breaths mixing, hearts pounding wildly. Shagun’s fingers clutched his shirt, pulling him closer, giving into the warmth that she had been craving.
He kissed her slowly but intensely, making sure she felt every ounce of everything he felt guilt, longing, affection, fear of losing her, and something deeper that neither of them was ready to name yet. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested on hers, their noses brushing.
“That’s how you seal the hate.”” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips.
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That’s all for this chapter…hope you enjoyed it.🎀
please kuch ulta mat sochna kissing scenes ke baare main…it was my first time writing this…i’m innocent.🫠
also don’t forget to vote and leave your comments.🫶
milte hai next chapter main.💕
lots of love❣️
~Prachi💌
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