Yeh Dil ♥️ - Love Like This

3

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Rohit winced as he tried to put weight on his injured leg. The throbbing pain shot up his leg with each tentative step. Rudra, silent but ever-present, reached out and steadied him with a firm hand.

Despite the lingering fear from earlier, a flicker of warmth bloomed in Rohit's chest. He didn't understand why Rudra was doing all this, but he was grateful nonetheless.

At the nurse's office, Rohit hissed in pain as she cleaned his wounds with a gentle hand. Rudra, standing beside him, surprised him by reaching out and squeezing his hand. The unexpected contact sent a jolt through Rohit. He didn't dare look at Rudra, but the warmth of his grip offered a strange comfort.

When the nurse brought out the dreaded syringe, Rohit's eyes widened in terror. Needles were his absolute worst nightmare. Just as he was about to bolt, Rudra's arm wrapped around his shoulders, holding him firm. He looked down and saw a flicker of concern in Rudra's eyes, something he never expected to see there.

"It'll be over in a second," Rudra murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. He brushed away a stray tear that had escaped Rohit's eye, the touch sending shivers down his spine. The nurse, used to seeing scared patients, smiled reassuringly.

"Just a little prick, and you'll be good as new," she said, her voice soothing.

The prick, as promised, was quick and sharp, followed by a dull ache. Rohit sighed in relief, leaning into Rudra's comforting presence. The nurse explained that Rohit had a minor fracture in his leg, likely caused by repeated kicks.

As she prescribed medication, the nurse cast a curious glance at Rudra. "Take care of your boyfriend," she said with a wink, handing Rudra the prescription. "Make sure he doesn't overdo it."

Rudra's face remained impassive, but a flicker of something crossed his eyes. Rohit, however, flushed crimson. The word "boyfriend" echoed in his mind, conjuring up a fantastical image of him and Rudra together, an impossible dream.

Rudra, oblivious to the storm brewing within Rohit, simply nodded curtly. He carried Rohit to his car, the silence between them no longer uncomfortable, but strangely companionable.
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At the dorm room, Rudra helped Rohit settle in, offering assistance even with a shower, which Rohit politely but firmly declined, his face burning even brighter. Rudra, ever resourceful, went out to get the prescribed medicine and some light food.

When he returned, he found Rohit struggling to put on his shirt. Without a word, Rudra stepped forward and helped him, their movements awkward but strangely intimate. He even stayed until Rohit finished his food and medicine, his presence a silent reassurance. Rohit grimaced at the taste of the medicine, and to his surprise, Rudra gave him a playful glare, insisting he take all of it.

Finally, as the evening settled in, Rudra made a move to leave. But just as he reached the door, a hesitant voice stopped him. Rohit, his cheeks flushed, held out his wrist.

Rohit, his voice barely a whisper, spoke up. "Rudra, why...?"

Rudra turned back, surprised by the question. He hadn't expected Rohit to confront him, especially after the nurse's teasing remark. The truth was, even he didn't fully understand his own actions.

Why had he reacted so fiercely to Sidharth's bullying? He had bullied countless others before, relished in the power trip it offered. But with Rohit, something was different. The anger that surged through him when he saw Rohit hurt had been primal, instinctive.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could voice his jumbled thoughts, his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he saw his father's name flashing, the caller ID glowing red with angry urgency. He sighed, the frustration evident on his face.

"It's my dad," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of resentment. "He's not going to be happy I left the party."

Rohit could sense the tension radiating from Rudra. He didn't push for an answer, his own thoughts swirling with confusion and gratitude. "Oh," he said softly. "I guess you should answer then."

Rudra hesitated, then nodded curtly. "Yeah, probably." He looked back at Rohit, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Take care of yourself, Sharma. I'll, uh, see you around."

Before Rohit could say anything else, Rudra turned and left, leaving him with a lingering warmth and a million unanswered questions.

On the other side of the door, Rudra answered his phone, bracing himself for his father's inevitable wrath. His mind, however, remained fixated on the boy in the dorm room, the image of Rohit's bruised face and scared eyes refusing to fade.

"Where the hell are you, Rudra?" his father boomed through the phone, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.

Rudra gritted his teeth. "Just dealing with some...unexpected things," he mumbled, the words cryptic even to himself.

As he walked away from the dorm, a silent war raged within him. His head told him to forget this newfound concern, to go back to his usual life of arrogance and indifference. But his heart, for the first time, whispered a different story. A story where a bruised boy with kind eyes and a quiet defiance had inexplicably cracked the wall he'd built around himself.

Rudra didn't know where this new path would lead, but as he hung up the phone and started his walk back to his own dorm, one thing was certain: his life, just like Rohit's, had taken an unexpected and intriguing turn.

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