Canvas of Love

Mystery in the Shadows

As they left the room, Ishan's smile faded slightly, his thoughts returning to the note on his table. Who could it be? He didn't want to admit it, even to himself, but a small part of him hoped it was from Shubman. 

Yet, he quickly brushed that thought away, reminding himself that Shubman barely acknowledged his existence, let alone went out of his way to leave encouraging notes.

Ishan shook his head, trying to shake off the strange feeling that was gnawing at him. He might not know who left the note, but he did know one thing—he wasn't going to let Shubman Gill, or anyone else, outshine him on the field. 

He was determined to be the best, to make everyone see that Ishan Kishan wasn't just another player.

With a deep breath, he looked at the note one last time, the words Well played echoing in his mind. He folded the note carefully and slipped it into his drawer. 

He didn't know what it meant, or who it was from, but he decided he would find out eventually.

And when he did, he'd be ready to face whatever—or whoever—it was that awaited him.

The sun blazed overhead as the Indian Cricket Team took to the field for another intense practice session. 

Ishan was in his usual form, swinging his bat with focus and determination. He could still feel the lingering frustration from the previous day, driving him to push even harder.

But fate had its own plans. As Ishan faced another fast delivery, the ball came hurtling toward him, faster than he expected. 

He swung his bat just a second too late, and the ball struck him squarely on the thigh. The sharp pain shot through his leg, and he dropped to one knee, a groan escaping his lips.

The moment Ishan fell, a wave of concern rippled through the team. Hardik was the first to shout, "Ishan! Are you okay?" as he rushed over to him. 

Rahul, Rohit, and Virat weren't far behind, all of them dropping what they were doing to check on their teammate.

"Easy, easy." Mayank said, quickly kneeling next to Ishan, his voice laced with worry. "Take a deep breath, buddy. Let's get you off the field."

Abhishek, ever the drama king, came running with a bottle of water, his face a picture of exaggerated worry. 

"Oh no, not our little lion! Hang in there, Ishan, we'll get you through this." he said, giving Ishan a playful wink to lift his spirits.

But amidst all the chaos and fussing, one person stood at a distance—Shubman Gill. He didn't rush over like the others, didn't utter a word of concern. 

Instead, he stayed where he was, his eyes fixed on Ishan. For a moment, their eyes met, and in that split second, Ishan saw something flicker in Shubman's gaze—something that wasn't the usual cold indifference.

It was brief, like a flash of warmth or concern, but just as quickly, Shubman's expression hardened, and his usual stoic mask returned. 

He turned away, his face as unreadable as ever. But that fleeting moment stuck with Ishan, making him wonder if he'd imagined it.

With Mayank and Abhishek supporting him, Ishan limped back to his room, the throbbing pain in his leg now mingling with the confusion in his mind. 

He couldn't shake off the image of Shubman's eyes—those few seconds where he could've sworn there was something different in them.

As they reached his room, Ishan opened the door, expecting to collapse onto his bed. But what he saw instead stopped him in his tracks. 

Sitting on the table was a small bouquet of sunflowers, a jar of cream for bruises, and another note.

He picked up the note, his eyes scanning the words written in the same neat handwriting: Pressure and passion are different.

Ishan's brow furrowed as he read the note again, his mind racing to figure out who could be behind these small yet thoughtful gestures. 

It wasn't like anyone on the team to be so mysterious, especially when they all loved to tease him relentlessly.

As soon as Abhishek caught sight of the sunflowers and the note, his face lit up with a grin that could rival the sun itself. 

"Oh my god, Ishan! Is this from your secret admirer?!" he exclaimed, clutching his chest dramatically. "You've got someone swooning over you, don't you?"

Mayank smirked, leaning in to read the note over Ishan's shoulder. "Pressure and passion, huh? Sounds deep. Maybe your admirer has a poetic soul." he teased, winking at Ishan.

"Well, well, well..." Abhishek continued, unable to contain his excitement. "Who could it be? Someone who cares enough to tend to your injuries but too shy to come forward. This is better than a Bollywood love story! I bet it's someone from the team." he said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Just then, the rest of the ICT team barged into the room, all of them curious after hearing Abhishek's dramatic exclamations. "What's all the noise about?" Rohit asked, glancing at the flowers on the table. "Ohhh, Ishan, are we interrupting a romantic moment?"

"Looks like someone's got a secret admirer!" Rahul added with a laugh, nudging Hardik playfully. "And they've got good taste too—sunflowers and all."

"You've been holding out on us, Ishan!" Hardik teased, a mock frown on his face. "How come you didn't tell us you had someone special leaving you these little gifts?"

Ishan's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. "It's nothing, guys." he said, trying to downplay the situation. "Probably just one of you pulling a prank or something."

"Oh please." Abhishek said, wagging his finger at Ishan. "A prankster would've left you a cactus, not a bouquet of sunflowers and a note about passion and pressure. This is serious business!"

"Yeah, man, this is straight out of a rom-com." Virat said, chuckling. "Next thing you know, we'll find love letters under his pillow."

Ishan couldn't help but crack a smile despite his frustration at all the teasing. But even as his friends joked and laughed, he couldn't shake off the nagging thought in his mind—the way Shubman had looked at him today. 

That momentary flicker of something in his eyes, followed by this new gesture, made Ishan question everything he thought he knew about his cold rival.

"Whoever it is." Abhishek said with a wink, "They clearly see the passionate fire in you, Ishan. Maybe they just want to make sure you don't burn yourself out chasing after something—or someone."

Mayank gave Abhishek a light punch on the shoulder, laughing. "Okay, drama king, let's give our boy a break before he turns even redder than those sunflowers."

"Fine, fine" Abhishek said with a sigh, throwing his arm around Mayank's shoulders. "But I'm telling you, this is the start of something epic. I can feel it in my dramatic bones."

As the team gradually left Ishan's room, still chuckling and making bets about who his secret admirer could be, Ishan's gaze drifted back to the sunflowers and the note. 

There was something about the whole thing that didn't sit right with him, something that made his heart race in a way he couldn't quite explain.

And as much as he tried to brush it off, one thought kept circling back in his mind—was Shubman Gill somehow involved in all of this?

He shook his head, dismissing the idea as ridiculous. Shubman was too cold, too distant to ever do something so thoughtful. 

But still, that flicker of warmth in Shubman's eyes lingered in Ishan's mind, refusing to fade.

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Heyaaa, pretty <3