THEM 'Ishman'

The Art of Distraction

The gallery buzzed with quiet chatter, patrons moving slowly from one painting to the next, sipping on their champagne, lost in the world of art. 

Ishan stood in front of a massive canvas, gazing at the abstract swirls of color with his arms crossed, a small smile playing on his lips. 

He wasn't exactly an art connoisseur, but there was something relaxing about standing there, surrounded by beautiful things, with no agenda or stress for the night.

His peace, however, was quickly interrupted by the arrival of a certain someone.

"I never took you for the artsy type." came a familiar voice from behind him, laced with that trademark teasing tone.

Ishan didn't need to turn around to know who it was. He could feel Shubman's presence already—too close, as usual, his voice too smooth, sending a jolt of awareness through Ishan.

"I'm full of surprises." Ishan replied calmly, eyes still on the painting. "What are you doing here, Shubman?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Shubman said, stepping up beside him. "Didn't think you'd be at some high-end gallery, admiring abstract art of all things."

"Maybe I'm just broadening my horizons." Ishan said with a smirk, finally turning to face him.

And there Shubman was—dressed impeccably, of course, in a sleek black button-up shirt that clung perfectly to his toned frame, paired with tailored trousers. 

His hair was effortlessly styled, and that mischievous grin was already in place.

"You look like you came straight from some magazine shoot." Ishan remarked, rolling his eyes slightly but unable to hide his own smile.

"Well, I didn't want to disappoint." Shubman said, shrugging playfully. "Besides, I had a feeling I might run into someone interesting tonight."

"Right." Ishan muttered, knowing full well that Shubman had probably planned to be here the second he found out Ishan would be attending.

Shubman's eyes flicked to the painting in front of them. "So... what's this one saying to you? What deep, profound meaning have you uncovered in the mess of colors?"

Ishan chuckled, shaking his head. "Why do I feel like you're mocking me?"

"Me? Mocking? Never." Shubman's grin widened, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'm genuinely curious."

"Okay, fine..." Ishan said, playing along. "If you must know, I think it represents chaos. Like... the unpredictability of life. You know, the ups and downs, the messy parts, but also the moments of beauty."

Shubman raised an eyebrow. "Look at you, getting all deep on me. I didn't know you had it in you."

Ishan shrugged, trying to keep his expression casual. "Like I said, full of surprises."

Shubman moved closer, his shoulder lightly brushing against Ishan's. "And here I thought I had you all figured out."

Ishan felt his pulse quicken at the subtle contact. Shubman had a way of getting under his skin, making even the simplest moments feel charged with something more. 

He turned his head slightly, meeting Shubman's gaze.

"You still think that, huh?" Ishan asked, his voice soft, but there was a playful challenge in his eyes.

Shubman's lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile. "Maybe not. Maybe you're still hiding things from me."

Ishan could feel the warmth rising in his cheeks, and he quickly averted his eyes, pretending to focus back on the painting. "You're impossible, you know that?"