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भ
ोली सी सूरत आँखों में मस्ती आय हाय
अरे भोली सी सूरत आँखों में मस्ती
दूर खड़ी शर्माए, आय हाय
एक झलक दिखलाये कभी
कभी आँचल में छुप जाये, आय हाय
मेरी नज़र से तुम देखो तो यार नज़र वो आये
भोली सी सूरत आँखों में मस्ती
दूर खड़ी शर्माए, आय हाय 💌
**********************************************************
At Mishra’s residence…
After a day at school, Prateek returned home. He freshened up, changed into his usual comfortable T-shirt, and sat at his study table, ready to finish his homework. As he pulled out his notebook from his bag, a small, folded piece of paper slipped out and fluttered to the floor.
Frowning, he reached down and picked it up. The envelope had no name just his own, written neatly on the front. His brows furrowed as he carefully unfolded the letter, his sharp eyes scanning the words.
To the One Who Will Never Know My Heart,
I don’t know if you’ll ever realize who I am, but maybe that’s how it’s meant to be. Some emotions are too fragile to be spoken aloud, and some feelings are too vast to be contained in words. So, here I am, pouring my heart onto this page, hoping that these ink-stained confessions reach you like a whisper in the wind.
Prateek, you are the quiet storm I never saw coming the kind that doesn’t rage but leaves everything changed in its wake. There’s a gravity to you, a silent force that pulls people in, not because you ask for attention, but because you are effortlessly extraordinary. I see it in the way you walk, steady and unshaken, as if the world bends around your purpose.
I could never say it out loud, but I remember every little thing about you…
The way you absentmindedly spin your pen between your fingers, like the whole universe is just a puzzle waiting to be solved. The small, satisfied smile that tugs at your lips when you crack a tough question, as if the world has momentarily aligned with your brilliance. The way your hands instinctively reach out to help someone without hesitation, without expectation, like kindness is woven into your very soul.
You are not perfect no one is. But to me, you are the best, Prateek. The best at being yourself, the best at existing in this world without needing to prove a thing. And maybe that’s why I find myself caught in this quiet, one-sided love because you don’t even realize the storm you’ve left in my heart.
I wish I had the courage to stand before you, to tell you how you make the world seem just a little brighter, a little more bearable. But you belong to a world of discipline, ambition, and dreams far greater than I could ever be a part of. And so, I remain here, just a shadow in the background, loving you from afar, praying for your happiness even if it never includes me.
You will never know me, never see the way my eyes search for you in a crowded room, never hear the silent prayers I whisper for you. But that’s okay. Some love stories are never meant to be told they are only meant to be felt, deeply and endlessly, in the heart of the one who carries them.
Forever lost in you,Your Silent Admirer.
With each line, his heartbeat quickened. The words were deep, intense filled with admiration, emotions so raw that he could almost feel them wrap around him.
He swallowed hard. This was something deeper, something pure yet overwhelming.
And then, a thought struck him. The handwriting it looked familiar. His mind raced, trying to place it. It reminded him of someone, someone close. And then it clicked.
Priya?
The ever-bubbly, ever-cheerful Priya. The girl who never seemed to run out of energy yet somehow always managed to turn into a complete mess around him. She was loud, playful, and full of life except when he was near.
Around him, she became a walking disaster. She tripped over her own feet, forgot what she was saying mid-sentence, and once even tried to drink water with the cap still on. Could it really be her?
A strange rush of emotions surged through him confusion, disbelief, and something else he couldn’t quite name. Priya, the girl who teased everyone effortlessly but fumbled her words when talking to him.
But then again… was it really Priya? Could he just be imagining things? Assuming too much? The handwriting was close, but was it really hers? Or was his mind playing tricks on him because she was the first name that came to mind?
He had always seen her as his best friend’s little sister, the vibrant presence in the background of his life. But now, knowing this… or rather, suspecting this… it felt different. It felt unreal.
He let out a slow breath, his grip tightening around the letter. He should let it go, brush it off like it was nothing. But for some reason, he couldn’t. Instead, a strange warmth settled in his chest, an unfamiliar pull he wasn’t ready to name.
————————————————————————————————
At Singhania’s Residence
Sprawled on the sofa like a queen on her throne, Priya had officially reached the peak of relaxation. No responsibilities, no stress, just pure, unbothered laziness.
Her feet, comfortably propped up on the coffee table, wiggled slightly as if celebrating the nothingness of her current existence. A half-melted tub of ice cream sat on her stomach, rising and falling with each slow breath, while her spoon rested loosely between her fingers, forgotten.
She let out a satisfied sigh.
The AC was at the perfect temperature, chilling the air just enough to make her burritoed-in-a-blanket position feel heavenly. the distant chatter of her chaotic family everything was background noise to the divine combination of ice cream and mindless Instagram scrolling.
Life was good.Until she ruined it herself.
Completely unaware of the chaos she was about to unleash, she absentmindedly tapped on Aditi’s Raksha Bandhan highlight on instagram, expecting the usual decorated thalis, perfectly arranged sweets, some overly dramatic captions about sibling love
But then, a childhood photo popped up.
And Priya wasn’t ready.
It was a picture of tiny Aditi, barely six, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her delicate fingers tying a rakhi around the wrist of an equally tiny version of him. Prateek, just seven years old sat across from her, drowning in an oversized white kurta that threatened to slip off his thin shoulders.
His dark, unruly hair was an absolute mess, sticking out like he’d been dragged straight from playtime to the ceremony. But what sent an arrow straight through Priya’s heart was his expression those wide, innocent eyes, the faintest flush on his chubby cheeks, and that soft, hesitant, almost shy smile.
Priya’s spoon stopped mid-air. Her heart? Did a full somersault. Her soul? Left her body.
She zoomed in, because why not make things worse for herself? The more she looked, the worse it got. He was too cute. Too adorable. That little boy, sitting so still, looking at Aditi with quiet affection, his hands resting on his lap like he didn’t know what to do with them. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t arguing. He wasn’t being his usual, annoyingly charming self. He was just… soft. Sweet. Pure. And it killed her.
A dreamy sigh slipped past her lips before she could stop it.
“Bachpan se hi ye itne cute the… hayee…” she whispered, her voice nothing more than an awestruck breath. “Koi itna perfect kaise ho sakta hai?”
And that was it. She was officially doomed.
And then because fate had clearly marked this day as Destroy Priya’s Dignity Day she SAID IT.
“Agar ye bachpan me itne cute the toh sochne wali baat hai… ye mere saath kitne cute lagenge.” The second the words left her mouth, the universe paused.
And then because the universe clearly wasn’t done ruining her came the response.
“tum bhi to cute ho….cuties hi lagenge sath main.”
Priya’s heart stopped. Her brain stopped. Even the air in the room stopped moving. Because that? That wasn’t her own thought. Her soul screamed.
“WHO SAID THAT?!”
And then she heard it. Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Menacing. A sinking dread settled in her stomach as she turned her head very, very slowly. And there he was.
Prateek. Standing right behind her. Looking directly at her. Expression? Too casual. TOO CASUAL.
Like he hadn’t just caught her in 4K simping over him. Like he hadn’t just heard her basically declare he’d look perfect with her. Like this wasn’t the single most embarrassing moment of her life.
But Priya?
SHE. WAS. DEAD. Her entire bloodline felt secondhand embarrassment. Her body screamed at her to run. Her brain? Yeah, that thing was utterly useless right now because it kept replaying her words in an infinite, merciless loop…
“YE MERE SAATH KITNE CUTE LAGTE.”
WHY DID SHE SAY THAT? WHY WAS SHE LIKE THIS?
Before her brain could even attempt a reboot, salvation (or destruction, who even knew at this point) arrived in the form of Ansh’s voice, booming from the staircase.
“Aa gaya tu? Chal start karte hain.”
Priya’s soul left for permanent exile. Completely oblivious to the WARZONE he had just walked into, Ansh strolled over casually, stretching his arms like this was just another normal day.
Meanwhile, Priya’s heartbeat was one tremor away from triggering an earthquake, and here was Ansh cool as a cucumber, COMPLETELY UNAWARE that he had just walked into the middle of her social funeral.
And then. Because he hadn’t unknowingly ruined her life ENOUGH, he added,
“Waise hall me mat baith, upar mere room me chal, neeche distractions zyada hain.”
PRIYA. FELT. LIKE. FAINTING. ON. THE. SPOT.
She didn’t even breathe. Because what distractions?! WHO was a distraction?! WHAT was he even implying?!
Prateek, on the other hand, looked like he was trying way too hard not to react. His jaw clenched for the briefest second before he rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to shake off whatever the hell he had just heard.
But Priya? She noticed. HIS EARS. WERE. SLIGHTLY. PINK. SHE HATED THAT SHE NOTICED IT.
Why was she cursed with working eyesight?! WHY?!
Meanwhile, Ansh, still blissfully unaware of the absolute emotional chaos he had unleashed, patted Prateek’s shoulder
PRIYA WANTED TO CRAWL INTO A BLACK HOLE.
Meanwhile, Prateek who was either really good at pretending or genuinely fighting for his life internally cleared his throat and replied,
“Haan, chalte hain.”
His voice? Normal. TOO NORMAL. But Priya knew. She KNEW. HE HEARD EVERYTHING. And now, she had TWO choices:
Option 1: Stay and die.
Option 2: Run and pretend this never happened.
SHE CHOSE OPTION 2.
Priya JUMPED off the sofa so fast that her ice cream tub flew off her lap, landing with a loud ‘THUD’ on the floor.
Ansh blinked. “Arre…PRIYA?! KAHAN…?!”
But she was already gone. Like a hunted criminal, she BOLTED toward her room. She stormed inside, slammed the door shut, and pressed her back against it, breathing like she had just run for her life.
Her brain? In complete self-destruction mode. Her soul? Officially left the planet. Her thoughts? A complete horror show.
“PRIYA, TU JINDA KYU HAI?! MAR KYU NAHI GAYI AB TAK?!”
Meanwhile, back in Ansh’s room, Prateek was still… processing.
Ansh, flipping through a book, barely glanced at him before shrugging. “Pata nahi, aj kal isse kya ho raha hai.”
Prateek, still slightly flustered, still hearing that damn sentence replaying in his head, cleared his throat, picked up a book, and muttered,
“Kuch nahi… chal padhai karte hain.”
——————————————————————————————
after sometime at Singhaniya’s Residence….
The doorbell rang, and Priya practically sprinted to open it, swinging the door wide. Aditi and Shagun stood there, smiling politely.
“Aao aao, andar aao!” Priya said grandly, stepping aside like she was welcoming VIP guests.
The two girls stepped in, taking in the cozy warmth of the living room, where Priya’s parents, Kiran and Rajveer, and her chachu-chachi, Sanjay and Kriti, were already seated, chatting over tea. The air smelled of cardamom and freshly made samosas, the kind that had the potential to ruin waistlines but heal souls.
Aditi and Shagun pressed their hands together in perfect harmony. “Namaste, uncle. Namaste, aunty.”
Kiran lit up like Diwali. “Arey wah! Kitni pyaari bachhiyan hain!” she gushed, eyes practically sparkling with admiration.
“Wait… yeh toh Prateek ki behen lag rhi hain na?”Rajveer leaned forward, eyes twinkling in recognition.
Sanjay snapped his fingers. “Haan haan! Prateek se thodi thodi shakal bhi mil rahi h… right?”
Kiran clapped her hands together in excitement. “Arre haan, lag to rha h…hayee kitni sunder aur pyaari ho gyi ho tum beta”
Priya froze. Because suddenly, the topic of conversation had shifted. Very, very dangerously. And then, because the universe had no mercy, Kriti leaned forward, interest piqued.
“Ji aunty, I’m his sister,” Aditi confirmed with a polite nod, her voice soft yet certain.
And before Aditi could even process anything further, Kiran had already grabbed her face like a long-lost daughter.
“Kitni sundar ho gayi hai! Bilkul apni maa pe gayi hai!”
Aditi, blinking rapidly, sent Priya a silent SOS.
But Priya? FROZE. And the betrayal? Only got worse. Because now, Kriti was gushing over Shagun. “Aur yeh bhi kitni pyaari hai! Pehli dafa mil rahi ho, par aisa lag raha hai jaise humesha se jaante ho!”
Rajveer nodded proudly. “Haan, Prateek to bada shararati batata tha Aditi ko, par yeh to kitni pyaari hai!”
Priya? Standing there. Forgotten. Abandoned. Cast aside. And that wasn’t even the worst part.
Because she knew exactly how Prateek described has described Aditi. And now? Now, her own parivaar was singing Aditi’s praises while she? She might as well have been a decorative lamp in the corner.
Priya could feel the betrayal settling deeper in her bones. She gasped dramatically. “OH, TOH AB AAP LOGON KO MAIN CHAHIYE HI NAHI?!”
Her parents? Too busy fussing over Aditi and Shagun to notice. Her chachu? Enjoying the drama. Her chachi? Trying not to laugh. And that was when Priya took matters into her own hands.
With zero hesitation, she RAN across the room and THREW HERSELF onto her chachu Sanjay’s lap, clutching his arm like she had been wronged by the entire universe.
“CHACHUUUUU! CHACHIII! AAP LOG MUJHSE PYAAR KARTE HO NA?!”
Sanjay, mid-sip of tea, choked. “HUH?!”
Kriti, alarmed, put down her cup of tea. “Beta, sab theek hai?!”
Priya pointed an accusing finger toward her parents. “YEH DONO! ADITI AUR SHAGUN PE MERE PYAARE MAA-BAAP KA SAARA PYAAR LUTA RAHE HAIN! Mujhe toh ab bhool hi gaye!”
Sanjay? Trying VERY hard not to laugh.
Kriti pulled her into a hug. “Arey, hum toh hamesha tujhe sabse zyada pyaar karenge! Par aisa kya ho gaya?”
Priya sniffled. “Ek ‘namaste uncle, namaste aunty’ kaha aur maa-baap bik gaye. Pehli mulaqat mein hi betiya maan liya unko. Mujhe toh ab bhool hi gaye hain.”
Sanjay chuckled. “Toh tu bhi ‘namaste uncle, namaste aunty’ bol diya kar humein roz, phir tujhe bhi extra pyaar milega.”
Priya GASPED. “MAIN APNI HI FAMILY MEIN NAMASTE BOLUNGI?! MAIN APNE GHAR MEIN BAHU KI TARAH ACT KARUNGI?!”
Her chachu? Now DYING laughing. Her chachi smiled. “Beta, bas ek option diya tha.”
Just then, Kiran, still completely unbothered by Priya’s emotional breakdown, called out, “Priya, drama bandh kar, aur le ja inhe apne room main, tab tak main kuch achha sa bhijwati hoon.”
Priya? Mouth hanging open.
Shagun bit her lip to hold in her laughter. ” Ab toh tere ghar mein bhi hum special ho gaye.”
Aditi gave Priya an innocent smile. “Waise bhi, uncle-aunty ka itna pyaar mila, ab dekhte hain tere room ka welcome kaisa hota hai.”
Priya stomped her foot. “MAMMY, AAP SIRF INKO KYUN KHUSH KAR RAHI HO?! MAIN BHI TO HOON YA NAHI?!”
Her mother? Still too busy thinking of making something nice.
Priya sighed dramatically, dragging herself up. “Fine. Aa jao. Par yeh mat sochna ki yeh war khatam ho gaya.”
Aditi and Shagun exchanged amused glances and followed her, while Priya muttered under her breath.
As they ascended the stairs, Aditi stopped midway and turned to Priya asking “bhaiya kaha h Priya?? Mujhe kuch kaam tha bhaiya se.”
“Vo to Ansh bhaiya k room m h unke sath…. chal wahi chalte h pehle.”Priya replied cheerfully.
Priya, without hesitation, reached the door and swung it open. And froze.
Aditi? Stood dead still.
Shagun? Almost dropped her phone.
Because inside that room… Their eyes snapped to the scene before them and their souls left their bodies.
Aditi’s breath hitched as sheer disbelief crashed into her. WHAT. IN. THE. WORLD.
Shagun grabbed Aditi’s arm like she needed PHYSICAL SUPPORT. “Tell me I’m hallucinating,” she whispered, voice barely above a squeak.
Priya? Looked like she had just witnessed a crime scene. The air in the room felt heavier, charged, cursed. Their eyes refused to blink, as if closing them would erase what they were seeing. Someone needed to say something. Anything.
———————————————————————————————————–
Some moments earlier in ansh’s room…
Prateek sat cross-legged on Ansh’s bed, his back resting against the headboard, mentally chanting self-motivation mantras.
“Just study, Prateek. Bas padhai pe dhyan de… koi distraction nahi.”
The textbook lay open on his lap, its pages crisp, filled with complex equations that demanded his attention. He inhaled deeply, determined to focus.
The moment the paper slipped out, time seemed to slow. It twirled in the air like a fallen leaf, teasing Prateek’s impending doom with its slow descent. His eyes widened in sheer horror, his entire body going rigid as the tiny yet highly dangerous piece of folded paper landed right in front of Ansh.
Prateek lunged forward. A desperate, reckless attempt. But fate? It was cruel. Because just as his fingers barely grazed the edge of the paper, Ansh beat him to it.
Prateek froze.
A chill ran down his spine as Ansh, completely oblivious to the sheer catastrophe about to unfold, casually bent down and picked up the paper with the innocence of a man who had no idea he was holding a ticking bomb.
Prateek internally combusted.
“No. No. No. No. No. No. No.”
His brain was short-circuiting. His heart was throwing a tantrum. His soul was writing its will. Because that wasn’t just any paper. It was a damn love letter. and that to be from PRIYA.
Ansh, oblivious, started unfolding it.
” ye kya hai?” he muttered, casually inspecting the paper like it wasn’t a nuclear warhead ready to explode in Prateek’s face.
Prateek? Already on the verge of a heart attack. His brain screamed, “GRAB IT, YOU FOOL!” but his body? Frozen. Useless. Betraying him at the worst possible moment.
He forced a laugh a horrible, unnatural, broken laugh.
“K-kuch nahi, bhai. Bas… ek purana paper hai! Haan! Kachra hai, fenk de na!”
Ansh’s eyebrow arched higher. He stopped unfolding it, now giving Prateek a look of pure suspicion. “Agar kachra hai toh itni fati fati awaaz kyun nikal rahi hai teri?”
Prateek gulped. Oh, he was so screwed. “Arre, tension kaisi? Main bas… woh… mujhe yaad aaya ki mainne lunch nahi kiya!”
Ansh crossed his arms. “Toh fir itna tension kyun le raha hai?”
BIG. MISTAKE. Because Prateek, already dangling off the cliff of sanity, SNAPPED.
“BECAUSE THAT’S NOT KACHRA, OKAY?! BAS! MAT PADH USSE!” he blurted, lunging forward with all the desperation of a man trying to save his own life.
But Ansh? Taller. Faster. More evil. With one swift movement, he dodged Prateek’s pathetic attack and held the letter up, completely out of reach.
” ab toh main definitely padhunga,” he said, grinning like the menace he was.
Prateek? Internally SCREAMING. “ANSH, I SWEAR! BHAGWAN KE LIYE USSE MAT KHOL!”
Prateek pounced like a desperate man trying to grab the last plate of biryani at a wedding. Ansh, having years of practice dodging stupid things, swiftly leaned back, effortlessly evading Prateek’s attack.
But the universe? Had other plans. The paper the cursed, doomed, life-ruining love letter went flying.
For a moment, time slowed down. They both watched in horror as it flipped mid-air, twisting, turning, mocking Prateek’s entire existence, before finally landing near the headboard and slipping just out of reach.
And then?
INSTINCT TOOK OVER. Both of them DOVE.
“ANSH, MAT DEKH!” Prateek growled, lunging forward like his life depended on it.
“TU BATA KYU NAHI RAHA KI YE HAI KYA?!” Ansh shot back, shoving Prateek with his shoulder to gain the upper hand.
And just like that the peaceful study session turned into a full-fledged WWE SmackDown. Bedsheets? Yanked and twisted like a cyclone had hit. Pillows? Yeeted across the room as collateral damage. The book they were SUPPOSED to study from? Flung aside, forgotten, crying in a corner.
Prateek’s dignity? Missing. Last seen running for its life.
Ansh, using every bit of his height advantage, strength, and pure evilness, managed to shove Prateek away just as the letter disappeared under the blanket.
Prateek? Dove for it like an action hero in a climax scene. His fingers grazed the edge of the fabric, heart pounding in victory
“AREY CHHOD NA !” Prateek yelled, thrashing like a fish out of water as he desperately tried to shake Ansh off.
But Ansh? Stronger. Smarter. More determined to ruin Prateek’s life. The tug-of-war escalated. Prateek yanked one way. Ansh yanked harder.
The blanket got involved wrapping, tangling, betraying.
And then
Everything went to hell. Ansh’s grip slipped. Prateek’s foot snagged on the twisted bedsheet. Momentum? Did its worst.
They CRASHED onto the bed. Ansh hit the mattress first, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs. Prateek? Landed half on top of him. His elbow? Dug into Ansh’s ribs. Ansh’s knee? Somehow jammed into Prateek’s stomach. Prateek’s wrist? Still caught in Ansh’s vice grip.
And to make matters worse? The traitorous blanket had wrapped around them like a suffocating burrito.Their faces? Way. Too. Close.
For a second just one miserable, horrifying second they froze.
Ansh? Still processing.
Prateek? Mentally screaming.
The room? Dead silent.
The situation? Highly, HIGHLY questionable.
Prateek could feel Ansh’s breath on his face.
Ansh? Could hear Prateek’s panicked heartbeat.
Their eyes met.
And then…
The door opened.
Inside the room, chaos had already unfolded in ways no one could have ever imagined.
Ansh and Prateek, once two respectable young men attempting to study, were now entangled in an epic disaster of bedsheets, blanket, and sheer stupidity.
Just as they were grappling with the magnitude of their downfall, The door swung open.
And standing there,witnessing the absolute horror firsthand, was Priya.
Behind her? Aditi and Shagun, peeking from the doorway like VIP spectators at the worst possible moment.
Priya? Frozen. Eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. Her brain? CLEARLY malfunctioning.
Aditi? Arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. She looked like she was questioning every single life decision that had led to this moment.
Shagun? Leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, lips twitching. That knowing smirk on her face? WAY too entertained.
Prateek? Internally praying. “God, please. I have always been a good man. Strike me down now.”
Ansh? “This is it. This is how I die.”
The room? A complete battlefield.
The bedsheets had been ripped off the mattress, now lying in a crumpled, chaotic heap like the aftermath of a tornado. The pillows had been tossed aside, one nearly falling off the bed, the other crushed under Ansh’s back.
The blanket? Oh, it was the worst offender. Twisted around them in a merciless grip, it clung to their bodies, binding them together in the most suspicious, suffocating position imaginable. Every desperate attempt to free themselves had only tightened the entanglement, like the universe was determined to ruin them.
And the two idiots at the center of it all?
Prateek half on top of Ansh, one hand braced against the bed, the other still tangled with Ansh’s wrist. His face was way too close, his expression frozen somewhere between horror and betrayal.
Ansh pinned beneath him, gripping Prateek’s wrist with the force of a man who had fought for his life. His chest heaving, his mind blank, his pride destroyed beyond repair.
And then the worst realization.
The letter?
Nowhere. Completely missing. The very thing that had started this entire disaster had vanished like a ghost, ensuring that all of this chaos had been for NOTHING.
The silence was so absolute, so merciless, it felt like the entire universe had paused just to mock them. No words, no excuses just the unbearable weight of humiliation pressing down on both Ansh and Prateek like an avalanche. The only sound in the room was their ragged breathing, the occasional rustle of the cursed blanket still holding them hostage.
The air was dense with unspoken regret, thick enough to choke on. It carried the scent of cardamom tea from the living room, mixing cruelly with the sheer awkwardness of the moment. Every second that passed only deepened the horror of what had just unfolded, solidifying itself as a core memory neither of them would ever recover from.
And the disaster? Oh, it was beyond repair. There was no salvaging this. No amount of explanation, no carefully crafted excuse could undo the visual damage that had already been burned into the minds of their unfortunate witnesses. They had lost. Completely. Utterly. And now, they had to live with it.
And then…
Without a single word, without even BLINKING, Priya slowly reached for the door handle. Her face? A blank slate. Her movements? Slow. Deliberate. Calculating. Maintaining complete and utter eye contact with Ansh and Prateek, she calmly, wordlessly, SHUT THE DOOR.
From the other side, her muffled voice broke the silence:
“H-Hum… baad mein aate hain.”
Hurried footsteps. Fast. Panicked. And just like that The only three witnesses to the most humiliating moment of their lives LEFT.
Ansh and Prateek?
Still trapped in their horror. Still questioning their existence. And worst of all? Still tangled up in that goddamn blanket.
Inside the room? A heavy, suffocating silence settled. Then Ansh snapped.
“TU UTHTA KYU NAHI, BE?!” he roared, trying to shove Prateek off.
“TU HI TOH MUJHPE CHIPAK RAHA HAI!” Prateek shot back, pushing Ansh’s shoulder down.
A fierce struggle broke out. Ansh flipped them over, now pressing Prateek down. Prateek, absolutely horrified, yelled, “Bhai, YE KYA KAR RAHA HAI?! UTH UTH UTH!”
Ansh yanked at the blanket to untangle himself, but it only tightened around them.
“CHHOD YE KAMBAL!” Ansh growled.
“TOH TU HI KYU MUJHPE LATKA HAI?!” Prateek kicked at Ansh’s leg.
Ansh lost his balance. Ansh collapsed on Prateek AGAIN. Another beat of silence.
Then…
The door creaked open again. Ruhaan stormed in like a man on a mission, his face set in stone, radiating pure confusion and judgment.
Behind him? Aditi, Priya, and Shagun, Who had clearly tried to stop him but failed.
Their expressions?
Aditi stood frozen, hands pressed firmly against her forehead, as if physically holding her brain together would somehow undo the catastrophe she had just witnessed. She inhaled sharply, her mind running in frantic circles. This this was beyond comprehension
Priya, on the other hand, looked like her entire system had crashed. She stood there, blinking rapidly, as if trying to reset her brain. Her brother. HER OWN BROTHER. In this situation. AGAIN.With her crush. This wasn’t even the first time she had walked into something utterly questionable involving Ansh, and yet somehow, it managed to be worse than anything before. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, but no words came out.
And then there was Shagun practically glowing with amusement. She bit her lip hard, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling in her chest, but her eyes oh, her eyes sparkled with pure, unfiltered joy. She had walked into chaos, witnessed peak entertainment, and was now living her best life. Her gaze flickered between Ansh and Prateek, the way they were still hopelessly tangled, and she just knew that this moment was going to be burned into her memory forever
And in the center of the disaster, at the heart of all this madness, lay Ansh and Prateek frozen, tangled, and drowning in humiliation.
Ansh practically draped over Prateek looked like a man who had just lost every ounce of control over his life. His arms were caught in the mess of fabric, his knee awkwardly wedged near Prateek’s side. His face? A mask of utter horror as realization dawned on him that they had been caught in the worst possible position.
Prateek, meanwhile, looked like he had seen death itself. Pinned under Ansh, his expression was stuck somewhere between existential crisis and sheer betrayal. His fingers twitched as if contemplating one final attempt to save whatever was left of his dignity, but deep down, he knew it was too late. The universe had conspired against him, and this moment would haunt him forever.
The blanket, the ultimate traitor, remained stubbornly tangled around them, ensuring maximum humiliation. It clung to their limbs, refusing to let them separate, as if actively participating in their downfall. The love letter? The source of this nightmare? Nowhere to be found. Vanished. Disappeared into the abyss of betrayal, leaving Prateek to suffer in its wake
Ruhaan? Processing.
His eyebrows furrowed. His mouth opened slightly as if he was about to say something but stopped. Because really, what the hell was he even supposed to say to THIS?
Another excruciating beat of silence.
Ruhaan slowly, very deliberately, turned his head toward the girls.
“Yeh dono…” he started, his voice calm but deeply concerned, “…lad rahe hain, ya kuch aur chal raha hai?”
Priya made a noise that was a mix between a gasp and a dying cat. Aditi facepalmed SO hard, the sound echoed in the room.Shagun? LOST IT.
The girl BURST INTO LAUGHTER, doubling over, clutching her stomach like this was the best entertainment she had ever received in her life
Ruhaan’s expression shifted from confusion to PURE HORROR.
Because, once again, Ansh and Prateek were in YET ANOTHER INTIMATE WRESTLING POSITION.
Ruhaan’s eyes widened.Aditi and Shagun? Mortified. Priya? Already turning to leave.
Ruhaan took a step back.
Ansh took a deep breath.
And then…Ruhaan, being Ruhaan, said the absolute WORST thing.”Bhai… kya chal raha hai?”
Silence. Prateek, absolutely done, threw the blanket over his head.
Ansh sat up instantly, gripping his head. “RUHAANNNNNNNN !!!!, TUJHE GALAT WAQT PE HI AANA HOTA HAI?!”
Ruhaan blinked.
“Mujhe kya pata tha ki tum dono…”
Ansh threw a pillow at him. “CHUP KAR!”
Meanwhile, Aditi and Shagun exchanged awkward looks. Then Aditi, faking a very forced, very nervous smile, reached for the door handle.
“H-Hum… baad mein aate hain. Aap dono enjoy karo.”
Then she shut the door. Ruhaan? Still frozen. Prateek? Still under the blanket. Ansh? Contemplating jumping out the window.
Ruhaan took a deep breath.
“Bhai… ye jo bhi chal raha hai… main nahi poochunga.”
Ansh? He picked up the last pillow and THREW IT AT RUHAAN.”NIKAL YAHAAN SE!”
Ruhaan dodged and sprinted out the door. Prateek finally emerged from under the blanket. “Bhai, tujhe ek baat bataun?”
Ansh, glaring. “Mat bol.”
Prateek looked down as if his dignity is snatched by Ansh.
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Hope you enjoyed this chapter…milte h agle chapter main…🦋
I know kuch chapters boring honge but i promise you’ll definetely going to love the upcoming chapters…😭🤧
Do vote and comment your favourite part…💖
Thankyou bubbles💗🫶🏻
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