Wounds of the Heart (दिल के घाव)💔

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Rudra gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Every muscle in his body tensed as he replayed the scene in the elevator over and over again. The heat of Rohit's kiss still lingered on his lips, a stark reminder of his impulsive act.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with self-loathing. "What were you thinking?"

He slammed his fist against the steering wheel in frustration. The alcohol that had emboldened him earlier had evaporated, leaving behind a trail of regret. He'd completely misread the situation, his emotions getting the better of him.

What must Rohit think? That he was some kind of lovesick fool who hadn't moved on after all these years? Rudra groaned, burying his head in his hands. He'd hoped seeing Rohit again might offer some closure, a chance to bury the past and move forward. But instead, he'd only managed to dredge up old feelings and make a complete mess of things.

Shame burned in his gut. He'd violated Rohit's space, acting on a primal urge with no regard for his friend's feelings. The image of Rohit's surprised expression flashed in his mind, and a pang of guilt stabbed at his heart.

Rudra knew he needed to apologize. But how? What could he possibly say that would erase the awkwardness, the confusion he'd undoubtedly caused? The silence that had hung heavy in the car ride back only confirmed his fears. Rohit was probably furious, and rightfully so.

He let out a defeated sigh. Rudra had prided himself on his control, his ability to compartmentalize his emotions. Yet, seeing Rohit after all this time had shattered his carefully constructed walls. The years may have changed their appearances, but the spark between them, it seemed, remained.

He glanced out the window at the deserted street, the city lights blurring into streaks of color. A flicker of determination ignited within him. He messed up, yes, but he wouldn't let his pride stand in the way of making things right. He owed Rohit an apology, a chance to explain his actions and hopefully, to salvage their friendship.

Rudra straightened in his seat, a newfound resolve settling in his eyes. He wouldn't let this one kiss define their bond. He would find Rohit, apologize sincerely, and hope that their friendship, though strained, could survive this unexpected detour.
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The car pulled into the familiar driveway of their condo, the engine sighing to a stop. Manik, oblivious to the emotional turmoil brewing beside him, cast a curious glance at Rohit. His friend had been unusually quiet throughout the ride, a stark contrast to his usual chatty self.

As soon as the car came to a halt, Rohit whipped open the door and practically stormed into the apartment. Manik followed cautiously, the echo of a slammed bedroom door confirming his suspicions - something was wrong.

Inside Rohit's room, chaos reigned. Pillows lay scattered across the floor, the bedsheet crumpled in a heap. Rohit himself stood in the center of the wreckage, a whirlwind of frustration swirling around him.

"Dammit, Rudra!" he roared, his voice laced with a raw mix of anger and hurt. "What did you mean 'sorry, it was a mistake'?"

He threw his hands up in the air, exasperation etched on his face. "You jerk! You freaking kissed me, making my heart do a happy dance, and then the next moment, you shatter it like a cheap glass ornament? I hate you, Rudra! Ughhh!"

Manik, who had crept to the doorway, flinched at the vehemence in Rohit's voice. He'd never seen his friend so angry, so utterly distraught. The situation was far worse than he'd initially thought.

Rohit continued his tirade, a torrent of words spewing out as he vented his frustrations. Manik listened intently, piecing together the puzzle based on Rohit's outbursts. It seemed Rudra had done something, something that had clearly upset Rohit deeply.