happy just to know

Ch - 7

Shubman shuts the door. He keeps holding on the handle for support as he takes off his shoes. He wouldn't say he is drunk. He knew he couldn't come back to the college all wasted and wasn't in the mood to stay over at someone else's. So he had only a couple of drinks. He wasn't in the great mood for drinks either.

He can handle a couple of drinks without them having much effect on him but he is still feeling light headed. That accompanied with all the fatigue is not really helping. He takes off his shirt and jeans and throws them on the chair, feeling hot.

Later, as Shubman comes out of the bathroom, his face and neck dripping with water, he stands in front of the air conditioner, feeling the air chill him he shuts his eyes. It's calming. With his head feeling dizzy, his mind still manages to find a way back to Ishan. The whole evening, even when he was with a bunch of people, surrounded by a crowd, he was still able to find himself thinking about him.

He can't place a finger on what exactly made him say all that he was feeling to Ishan, trust him with all that without the fear of being judged. The surprising part is he couldn't care about it any less. If he feels comfortable around him, does anything else even matter?

Shubman turns off the lights. He bumps into the edge of the table, head spinning, he curses and gets into the bed. It's almost 3 am again. He needs to get a hold on his sleep schedule. It's getting worse every day.

Shubman keeps thinking about everything Ishan said and the way it was so consoling. He could have dismissed him saying that he was overthinking or being dramatic but he listened. Shubman picks up his phone. He stares at the screen for a few moments and then contradicting his own heart he puts it aside. Not drunk enough for this. What is he even going to say to him at this ungodly hour, especially when he can't think of a single thing? His brain isn't functioning enough to make an excuse and what excuse could he even make other than something that would unnecessarily scare Ishan? But he called him in the morning too... Shubman turns to his side and clutches one of his pillows between his arms. He shuts his eyes, feeling a strange pang of loneliness. He pulls the pillow closer to his chest in a failed attempt to ease the feeling.

Maybe it would have been better if he was really drunk. He wouldn't be thinking so much. He would have called him and blamed it all on alcohol.

***

Ishan sips on his iced coffee and shakes his head, "Nah. Not good," he says to Sanya.

"Shut up. You don't like anything," she says, annoyed now. This is the sixth dress she is trying and Ishan has found something wrong with every single one of them, "I don't know what I was thinking when I asked you to come along."

"At least I am honest," Ishan answers, rolling his eyes. To be honest, he knows he doesn't have a very good idea of what is supposed to look nice. He is just taking the best guess thinking that if something looked really nice, he would just know it without having to think about it. So, everything else is not good.

"It is a very nice dress. Can you not see?"

"Isse accha toh pehle wala tha," Ishan argues.

"Which one?"

"Arey, ab don't go searching for it again. It wasn't that good. Try something new."

"I am so tired."

"Then don't get a dress."

She sighs, "Can you be of some help?"

"I am helping you."

"You are absolutely not. All you have done today is sit there like a diva and pass comments like a fashion show judge."