~Dekha hai teri aankhon ko
Chaha hai teri adaon ko
Isme mera kasoor kya hai sanam
Isme mera kasoor kya hai sanam
Jaan-e-jana tujhey hai kasam~
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In the heart of bustling Mumbai, Rahul Dravid, a celebrated cricketer known for his calm d...
everyone - i would appreciate inline comments and votes after writing freaking 23 parts if you can't even write some inline comments god grace tathastu
note - this chapter is more on feeling rather than convo
We don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore We don't talk anymore
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Rahul felt the familiar buzz of adrenaline as he took his stance at the crease. The crowd's energy was palpable, and though his focus was on the game, his thoughts strayed to Aarohi. He knew she was somewhere in the stadium, watching, perhaps from a private box or one of the VIP sections, along with Anjali.
As he reached his half-century, the crowd erupted in applause. Rahul raised his bat to acknowledge the cheers, his eyes scanning the stands instinctively. Though he couldn't see her clearly, he knew she was there, watching. His heart ached at the thought of the distance between them, both physically and emotionally.
We don't love anymore What was all of it for? Oh, we don't talk anymore Like we used to do
Later, during a break, Rahul walked towards the boundary, where he caught a glimpse of Aarohi sitting with Anjali and some other family members. She looked serene, her face betraying no emotion. He felt a pang of longing and guilt, remembering how they had promised never to remove the rings they had exchanged. He had noticed in recent days that Aarohi was no longer wearing hers, a subtle yet painful reminder of the rift between them. It was impossible to see from afar, but he knew—he could feel it. That absence was a symbol of the broken promises and the love they once shared.
