As the july night was deepened...loneliness was engulfing the city, seeping into every corner of, from street to building....
Like a slow-moving river of molten lava, the floodwaters rose and fell, leaving marks on the walls as they ebbed and flowed...and Ishan's house was in these very street, after returning from the cricket practice , Ishan forgot to remove his shoes.
Ishan pov:-
I wasn't allowed to take my phone on the nets. and while riding the scooter, my phone was in my bag. So, as soon as I reached home, I hastily opened the door and collapsed onto the bed. And I quickly took out my phone.
On my phone, I was searching for one thing that had been on my mind the entire journey - the blue tick. This blue tick was a magical message indicator that told me whether, the message I sent before leaving for practice had been read by that special person or not..That person who was becoming increasingly important to Ishan... The messege was sitting beside the tick.., but that tick hadn't turned blue yet.. As if the blue tick was a harbinger of joy, but its absence was a silent killer.. Always hidden, yet whenever it appears, it shatters the heart's stability.
That cursed blue tick had changed the dynamics of love and longing so much... There was a time when someone would write a letter to another and wait for the person response, unsure if it even reached... Wondering if it fell into the wrong hands, like the recipient's father or brother..
And now, as soon as a message is sent, the wait for the blue tick begins in mere moments... This cursed blue tick has ruined the excitement of waiting. Ishan didn't even realize when he dozed off, staring at his phone... Nor did he notice when the tick turned blue.
In another corner of the city, Ishan's message had been read by the person he was eagerly waiting to hear from... The person he was slowly falling in love with... Ishan's coach, Shubman Gill. Shubman Gill, 15 years older than Ishan, bore a scar above his left eyebrow from a school-day match.
The girls would fixate on him, mesmerized by his gaze... His eyes had an unparalleled effect; when he looked at someone, their heart wouldn't skip a beat, but would instead be enveloped in a gentle embrace... The soft descent of his long eyelashes, the blush of his paper-like complexion when the sun touched it, his smile that, when insincere, barely reached his lips, but when genuine, subtly lifted the corners of his mouth, creating a tiny dimple on his cheeks..
Shubman Gill was the cricketing dream of every girls and boys in Punjab.. But Ishan had nothing to do with all these fanciful things.. However, Ishan's fascination with him was limited to his cricket skills and love for poetry.
Hello!!!
It's my first time writing a story soo please cooperate with me.. Finally after soo many conflicting thoughts.. I decided to write Sorry for the short chapter.. Will try to continue this if you guys want to.. Please let me know your opinion on this..
Thank you.
