Breakup (Ishro)

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Top - Ishan

Bottom - Rohit

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It started early that morning, just after sunrise. Rohit woke up expecting to feel Ishan’s warm embrace around him, as usual. Instead, the bed next to him was empty. He blinked, confused, stretching his arm out toward the other side of the bed. “Ishan?” he called out softly, his voice groggy.

No response.

Rohit sat up, rubbing his eyes. Normally, Ishan would have woken him up with his usual goofy grin, teasing him for sleeping in, maybe even showering him with kisses. But today? Silence. Rohit’s heart skipped a beat, unease settling in. He got out of bed and wandered into the living room, hoping to find Ishan lounging on the couch or making his usual mess in the kitchen. But the sight that greeted him was odd.

Ishan sat at the dining table, staring at his phone, an unusually serious look on his face. He didn’t look up when Rohit entered the room. No playful smile, no teasing. Just... silence.

“Good morning,” Rohit said tentatively, trying to shake off the strange atmosphere. He padded over to Ishan and lightly ruffled his hair, something that usually got a laugh out of him.

But Ishan only pulled away slightly and mumbled, “Morning.”

Rohit froze, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he withdrew it. “Kya hua, Ishan? Tum theek ho?”

“Main theek hoon,” Ishan replied, his tone flat and distant, still not meeting Rohit’s gaze. He stood up abruptly, brushing past Rohit as if he wasn’t even there. “I’m going out for a bit,” he said over his shoulder, walking toward the door.

Rohit’s heart dropped. “Kahaan ja rahe ho? Tumne breakfast bhi nahi kiya.” His voice wavered slightly as concern settled deeper into his chest.

“I have things to do,” Ishan replied curtly, slipping on his shoes without so much as a glance in Rohit’s direction. Before Rohit could ask anything else, Ishan was out the door.

Rohit stood there for a few moments, staring after him, feeling lost. Did I do something wrong? He replayed the past few days in his mind, trying to figure out if he had said or done something to upset Ishan, but nothing came to mind. They hadn’t fought, they hadn’t even disagreed on anything recently.

As the hours passed, the uneasy feeling only grew worse. Rohit tried distracting himself with work, but his mind kept wandering back to Ishan’s coldness that morning. He sent a text, hoping to get some clarity.

Rohit: “Are you mad at me? Did I do something?”

Ishan’s response came quickly, but it did nothing to ease Rohit’s nerves.

Ishan: “No.”

Rohit frowned. No explanation, no reassurance—just a single word. It didn’t feel like Ishan at all. He debated whether or not to push further but decided against it, not wanting to irritate him. But as the hours ticked by, his anxiety gnawed at him, making it hard to sit still. What if something really was wrong? What if Ishan didn’t want to be with him anymore?

By the time evening rolled around, Rohit was pacing the living room, unable to calm his racing thoughts. He had sent a few more messages, but they all received the same cold, brief replies.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Ishan stepped back into the apartment. Rohit froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Now’s the time, he thought, determined to figure out what was going on. He watched as Ishan walked in, still distant, still not meeting his eyes.

“Ishan,” Rohit called out softly, his voice trembling with uncertainty. “Kya chal raha hai? Tum mujhse door-door kyun ho?”

Ishan finally stopped and turned to face him, but his expression was unreadable. There was no warmth in his eyes, no trace of the usual playfulness. “Rohit, we need to talk.”

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