Open your Eyes | Shubman Gill x Ishan Kishan Oneshots

Knockout (Or, Heartbreaks give you wings)

On Monday morning, leaning against a cupboard, Ishan Kishan was making a mental list of the situations when Shubman Gill looked the best amongst all scenarios, because obviously, he didn't have anything better to do.

No, he wasn't being sarcastic.

He actually didn't have anything better to do.

Basically, earlier, after a miserable, miserable night, Ishan had dragged himself up to his room after a very tasteless breakfast of milk and cornflakes and Tabasco sauce. You'd think the Tabasco sauce would add some spice to the milk-and-cornflakes, but no, even that failed.

And even Surya bhai said the same: everything was tasteless, starting from milk-cornflakes-Tabasco sauce to bread-ham-jam-sambar.

Maybe the Australians had killed all their taste buds yesterday...

Shubman had woken up by the time Ishan dragged his feet in. He was just huddled in bed, his hair looking like a crow's nest and dark, dark circles under his eyes.

"You look terrible," Ishan greeted.

"Cheers," said Shubman.

"Um, what for?"

"For me being real. Isn't that what people are always saying. Stop faking it. If you feel terrible, it's good to look terrible. If any of us fifteen or anyone who has ever played for India or anyone in India who cares about cricket doesn't look terrible today, they are obviously faking the normal look. You should not be commenting about someone looking real, if you must comment, go and poke Rahul bhai, he was looking perfectly normal when he dropped by earlier, he is the real concern-! Or even Jassi bhai who-"

Ishan wisely decided to break in loudly.

"Shubi? Maybe it's a surprise to you, but I actually meant it's the feeling part that's the concern, not the looking part."

"-even woke up and video called-oh."

Ishan nodded. "Yes."

"Whatever," said Shubman, grudgingly.

He shook himself out of bed, and stumbled to the dresser. After two minutes of him groping the contents atop it, Ishan asked, "What exactly are you looking for?"

"My toothbrush."

"That's inside the bathroom."

"Oh," said Shubman. "Okay. Whatever," he repeated and stumbled towards the bathroom.

As he passed Ishan, close-by he looked even worse. His face was still tear-stained. Maybe that's why he was stumbling-he couldn't see clearly. Plus there were nail marks all over his forearms. He did that sometimes. Claw at himself to get out rage or grief. He was weird that way.

For a moment, Ishan considered pulling Shubman into a hug, but that was likely to get him clawed at, too...though it might be worth the hazard...

But before Ishan had decided, Shubman had already shut the door of the bathroom.

Which was how Ishan was left (with nothing better to do), resting his shoulder against the cupboard, gazing at the door which had just shut, and pondering when were the times Shubman looked best.

The top one would have to be when he returned after winning a match, all abuzz with happiness, contentment and excitement. His cheeks would be glowing and he would be smiling, both showing up the dimple even more prominently. His hair would be plastered to his forehead, his shirt to his body. And he just wouldn't be able to keep still, or stop smiling, and Ishan could never not smile back, not even if GT had won a match against MI.