Love, Obsession & The Darkness In Between

Tangled Threads

After 1 week...

E

shaani's POV,

It’s been almost two months since I arrived here, and while I was practically dragged into this new life, I can’t deny there’s a certain comfort enveloping me now.

Vani Aunty has taken me under her wing, showering me with warmth and care. Her laughter fills the house, and her cooking makes even the toughest days feel lighter.

Then there's Shubham—he’s become my unexpected ally. At first, he might seem a bit rude; his bravado can be off-putting. But once you get to know him, it’s clear he has a heart of gold.

He’s been a reliable friend, especially during those times when I felt my emotions crashing down around me.

Even during my period days, when I was ready to crawl into bed with a tub of ice cream, Shubham showed up with a stash of chocolates and chips, as if he knew exactly what I needed.

And then there’s Viraj. Despite his rough exterior, there’s a hint of gentleness in the way he looks after me, albeit in his own brusque way.

But Viraj… I really don’t know what to say about him. It’s infuriating, really. I have every reason to dislike him—the way he teases me, the way he can be so infuriatingly charming.

Yet, I can’t seem to muster any true resentment. There’s just something about him that leaves me utterly frozen in place when he’s near, like my brain short-circuits every time he walks into the room. It’s maddening.

Suddenly, a knock on the door breaks my train of thought. “Come in,” I call, curious to see who it is.

Shubham enters, and today, the lightness that usually accompanies him seems absent. His face carries a weight, and my heart sinks a little. “Hey, what’s up?” I say, forcing a smile as I rush over. “Kahan hai meri chocolates?”
( where are my chocolates? )

But he doesn’t respond, and I start to feel a knot of worry tightening in my stomach. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?” I ask, my voice tinged with concern.

Still no response. My anxiety spikes. “Is Viraj okay?” I blurt out, my words tumbling over each other as panic sets in.

Just then, Shubham bursts into laughter, the sound echoing in the small room. “Mai mazak kr raha hoon, Eshaaani! Tumne serious le liya!”
( I'm joking, eshaani. You took it seriously.. )

His laughter is infectious, but when I see the mischief dancing in his eyes, I realize he might have gone too far. The fire of irritation ignites in me.

I can’t resist the urge to chase him. “Mazak? Abhi batati hun tumhara mazak! Ruko ek min, abhi pakadti hun tumhe!” I shout, half-laughing, half-fuming.
( Joke? Wait I'll tell you what joke is. Wait A minute let me catch you. )

Shubham bolts from the room, laughter spilling from him as he calls back, “Eshaaani... maj gir jaunga! Wait, mai mazak kr raha tha. Chhod do mujhe!”
( Eshaani... I'll fell! Wait please I'm just joking. )

Fueled by a mix of annoyance and playful energy, I chase after him through the hallways. It feels good to run, to laugh, to forget about everything else, even if just for a moment. As I round a corner, adrenaline rushes through me. I can almost catch him.

But just as I’m about to reach him, I collide with something hard. The impact takes me by surprise, and I stumble back, rubbing my forehead in confusion.