SS- The Aftermath

~12~

The corridor was bathed in a gentle, amber light from the lamps that lined the walls, casting a warm, soft glow on everything it touched. Rohith stood waiting, his tension palpable in the quiet space. He shifted restlessly, glancing occasionally at the closed door of Abhira's room, each minute stretching into what felt like an eternity.

When the door finally creaked open, Armaan emerged. The sight of his brother hit Rohith with an unexpected force. Armaan's usually composed face was now a stark shade of pallor, his eyes rimmed with red and clouded with unshed tears. The transformation was jarring; it was as if the very essence of his strength had been drained away in the brief moments inside.

Armaan made an attempt to mask his distress with a smile, a gesture so fragile that it seemed to quiver with the weight of his hidden anguish. The effort was clearly superficial, an act of willful deception meant to protect both himself and those around him from the raw emotions he was struggling to contain.

As Armaan drew closer, his attempt at normalcy crumbled. Rohith met his gaze, and the veneer of control shattered. The smile faded, leaving behind a deep well of sorrow and exhaustion that Armaan had been desperately trying to suppress. The emotional toll of his conversation with Abhira was visible in every strained line of his face, every faltering step he took.

Rohith's heart ached at the sight of his brother so vulnerable, his own worries and apprehensions momentarily overshadowed by Armaan's evident pain. He could see the remnants of the façade slipping away, revealing the depth of the struggle Armaan had endured. The composure that Armaan had tried to maintain now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by the raw, unfiltered reality of his emotions.

Armaan reached Rohith and for a moment, he simply stood there, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. The effort to appear strong had left him exhausted, and the facade he had clung to was now nothing more than a fleeting memory. Rohith, sensing his brother's need for support, extended a hand, his touch gentle but firm.

"Hey," Rohith said softly, his voice a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere. "It's okay. You don't have to keep up the act. I'm here."

Armaan's eyes met Rohith's, and for the first time, he allowed himself to be fully seen. The tears he had fought back now began to spill, unrestrained and genuine. He let out a shuddering breath, and the walls he had built around himself finally began to crumble. Rohith stood by him, a steady presence in the midst of his turmoil, offering the support that Armaan so desperately needed.

Together, they walked down the corridor, the weight of the moment giving way to the solace of shared understanding. The corridor's soft light seemed to echo their tentative steps, a promise of comfort and the beginning of healing amidst the darkness. Seeing the depth of Armaan's distress, Rohith decided it would be best to get him away from the house, where the weight of their surroundings might only amplify his emotional burden. With a decisive nod, Rohith guided Armaan toward the parking lot, steering him gently but firmly.

Armaan moved almost on autopilot, his steps slow and heavy as he followed Rohith. The drive was not just about physical distance but a way to offer Armaan a break from the immediate pressure of their environment. Rohith's car, a refuge from the night's intensity, was parked nearby. He opened the door for Armaan, who slid into the passenger seat with a sigh of relief, grateful for the change of scenery.

Rohith started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, the hum of the car providing a soothing background to their quiet. As they drove, Rohith kept the pace relaxed, choosing a route that meandered through quieter parts of the city, away from the usual hustle and bustle. The gentle rhythm of the car's motion was a comforting contrast to the emotional turbulence Armaan had just faced.