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Ishan had been under the influence - sometimes of his own violation, something under duress - but never had he been able to conjure such an endearing, such a painstakingly beautiful image of Shubman as the one before him now.
He had that innate brightness around him, like a halo, as if all the goodness, all the brightness had gravitated toward this ball of sunshine. He looked beautiful, as he always did, but what struck Ishan as different was the utter and complete lack of warmth in his eyes.
And Ishan would know, because he'd spent the last couple of months either drowning in them or dreaming about them.
Something was different though, and Ishan intended to find out why. Eyes still on Shubman, who was still lounging lazily on the chair, Ishan pulled himself up slowly, kept the gun back on the stand, and reached out a hand, as if to touch and understand why Shubman looked so different. Before he could move any further, Shubman had sprung out of the chair as fast as a snake, and pounced on him. In a second, Ishan was on his back on the bed, with a very real Shubman over him.
As realization washed over Ishan that the person above him was indeed real and not a hallucination, his body turned cold with realization and hot at the implication. Shubman was not helping matters, as he seemed happy to press Ishan deeper into the mattress, his eyes blazing brighter than the sun.
Ishan did the only thing he could.
He tried wriggling out of the bed, careful not to hurt Shubi.
Unfortunately, doing so only brought them closer, as Shubi was pressing himself to him and his face was a breath away from Ishan.
Ishan continued wriggling. Shubman's patience ran out.
In the next second, Ishan found his hands bundled together in one of Shubman's, above his head, and before he could grasp the situation, Shubman was fishing out his handkerchief and tying Ishan's hands to the bedpost, with no wiggling space.
"Shub–Shubi, what are you doing?"
"What I should have done, months ago."
"Untie me!"
"No."
"Untie me, please."
"Better, but still no."
Ishan let out a sigh of frustration and took a deep breath.
"Shubman, what are you doing here?"
"I am here to say goodbye."
That stopped Ishan quickly.
"Good–goodbye?"
"Yeah, I mean, I figured, how many times do I have to get rejected, for you to run away, until I get the hint, right?"
Ishan stammered a 'uh, ummm' as most of his brain was trying to not haul himself closer to Shubi's warmth, which felt like a comforting blanket on cold days.
Seeing Ishan's attention far away, Shubman took his chin in his hands, and Ishan, unable to push Shubman away (or, his mind provided, resist leaning into the gesture), whimpered.
"But, even my heart, hardened as it was, couldn't leave, without one last chance."
At Ishan's confusing expression, Shubman continued.
"You have been my friend, my savior, my lifeline, time and time again. It might have been a couple of months, but it felt like I had known you all my life - that you were the one I didn't even know I was waiting for. You made me feel safe and understood like no one else had - I loved you. I loved you the moment you stepped into my life, upended it, and left it - I loved you through continents apart and loved you through your stubbornness. I loved you even when you left - but you kept on leaving, didn't you? You left, and it broke me a little bit each time. There are cracks in my heart I am not sure can ever be healed, just like I am sure there are cracks in yours that you think won't ever be filled. But I promise you, like I have promised time and time again, that I'm here, I will always be here, with you. I'll be with you when you're your best, and when you're at your worst."
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Beauty and the Bodyguard
RomanceShubman, a millionaire's son, is shy and quiet - the exact opposite of his bodyguard, Ishan, who loves throwing Shubman's quiet life into disarray. What happens when feelings bloom - and what happens when people run?