haunted.

after effects

As the first light of dawn crept through the windows, Virat stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Rohit, who had kept vigil by his side throughout the night, leaned forward, relief flooding his features.

"Virat," Rohit whispered softly, his voice a mix of tenderness and concern. "You're awake. How do you feel?"

Virat's eyes met Rohit's, but the warmth that once defined their connection was replaced by a guarded, distant look. He shifted slightly, wincing from the residual pain and disorientation.

"I'm fine," Virat replied curtly, his tone clipped. "I just want to be alone."

Rohit's heart ached at the coldness in Virat's voice. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Virat's forehead. "I understand you've been through a lot, but we need to talk about what happened. I'm here for you."

Virat turned his head away, staring at the wall. "I don't want to talk, Rohit. I need space. Please, just leave me alone."

Rohit's chest tightened, the emotional distance between them feeling like an insurmountable chasm. He wanted to hold Virat, to reassure him that everything would be okay, but he knew pushing too hard would only drive him further away.

"Okay," Rohit said quietly, his voice tinged with sorrow. "I'll give you some space. But I'm not going far. I'll be right outside if you need me."

Reluctantly, Rohit stood up and walked to the door. He paused for a moment, glancing back at Virat, hoping for some sign that his husband still needed him. But Virat remained silent, his body language closed off and distant.

With a heavy heart, Rohit stepped out of the room, leaving the door ajar. He sat just outside, his back against the wall, eyes fixed on the sliver of space through which he could still see Virat. He couldn't bring himself to go any further, the fear of leaving Virat truly alone gnawing at him.

Minutes stretched into hours as Rohit sat in quiet vigil, his mind replaying the events of the previous night. He knew Virat was hurting, both physically and emotionally, and he felt helpless to ease that pain. Yet, he also knew that healing would take time, and that sometimes, the most important thing he could do was simply be there.

As the morning sunlight grew brighter, Rohit remained by the door, ready to step in the moment Virat needed him. His love for Virat was unwavering, a beacon of hope and strength that would guide them both through the darkness of the past and into the light of a new day.

He quietly moved around the kitchen, preparing Virat's favorite breakfast: a simple but comforting meal of scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the soft light of the morning sun streaming through the windows.

With the tray in hand, Rohit gently pushed open the door to their bedroom. Virat was awake, sitting up in bed but staring blankly at the wall. The light in his eyes seemed dimmed, a stark contrast to the vibrant spirit that Rohit had fallen in love with.

"Hey," Rohit said softly, trying to sound hopeful. "I made your favorite breakfast."

Virat glanced at the tray, then looked away. Rohit set the tray on the bedside table and sat down next to him. "You need to eat something, Virat. It'll help you feel better."

Virat picked up the fork and mechanically pushed the food around his plate, not taking a single bite. His silence spoke volumes, a wall that seemed impenetrable. Rohit watched, his heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and helplessness. He knew Virat's soul was damaged, the ordeal with Edmund leaving deep, unseen scars.

"I know it's hard," Rohit said gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm here for you. We'll get through this together."

Virat didn't respond, his expression distant. Rohit sighed softly, standing up and giving him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before leaving the room.