In the bustling city of Lucknow, there lived two best friends named Avyansh Malhotra and Hrida Raichand. One fateful day, something happened that changed their friendship forever.
Hate was a strong word, but the animosity between them was palpable.
...
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She looked at me, her eyes narrowing in slight annoyance, and said, "Wear a shirt first."
Oh, fuck.
I realized how ridiculous I must have looked, standing there half-dressed, trying to have a serious conversation.
My mind had been racing, trying to fix things, to make things right, but clearly, I'd rushed too much.
I grabbed the shirt nearby, hurriedly threw it on, and said, "Done."
Her expression didn't soften, though. She glanced at me, a touch of exasperation in her voice. "Just go and bathe. The ink will fade."
I froze, confused.
Ink? It hit me.
She'd noticed the tattoo.
I was shocked, staring at her, but I didn't say anything. Instead, I rushed to the closet, quickly changed into some comfortable clothes, trying to wrap my head around how to explain myself.
When I returned, I saw her lying on the bed, scrolling through her phone, casually on her stomach like nothing had happened.
But for me, everything had changed. I walked toward her, my heart pounding.
She didn't look up right away but eventually, her gaze met mine, and she simply asked, "Why did you get the tattoo?"
There it was, the question I had been dreading. I hesitated for a moment, then sighed.
"I just wanted to get a chance to talk to you."
Her disbelief was palpable. She stared at me, eyebrows raised, like she couldn't believe what I'd just said.
"Tomorrow, come with me, and we'll get it removed," she stated firmly.
"I'm not going to remove it," I replied, my voice low but determined.
She sat up then, her eyes searching mine, her tone softening a little.
"Didn't it hurt?"I locked eyes with her, speaking more from my heart than I had in a long time.
"If I don't properly apologize to you, the guilt hurts far more than any tattoo ever could."
She blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, it felt like she wasn't sure how to react.
Then she let out a small sigh, almost as if she was tired of this whole back and forth.
"Sleep now," she said softly, trying to end the conversation.
But I couldn't leave it at that.
Gently, I reached for her hand, taking it in mine. I rubbed my thumb softly over her knuckles, a small but intimate gesture, and whispered, "I'm sorry, Hrida. For everything. I promise I won't let you get hurt anymore."
