To the outside world, the Raghuvanshi family appeared as the epitome of perfection. They seemed happy, content, and the envy of many, with their close-knit bond and comfortable lifestyle. But behind the closed doors of their home, a very different r...
Ayan stood outside Ishani's room, his anger and frustration building inside him. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, expecting anything but what he saw. Ishani sat on her bed, huddled under a blanket, her laptop propped up on her lap. A half-empty tissue box sat beside her, and her face reflected a mixture of sadness and pain. The sight of her, looking so vulnerable and broken, caught Ayan off guard.
He took a step closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. Ishani attempted to compose herself, hastily wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. Ayan noticed her efforts to hide her emotions, but he could see through the facade. He knew that there was more to her tears than met the eye.
As Ayan's eyes fell upon the movie playing on Ishani's laptop - 'Shershaah', a realization began to dawn upon him. The pieces of the puzzle slowly started to fall into place, and he understood why Ishani was crying. Ayan's initial frustration was replaced by a surge of understanding and empathy.
"Fuck!" He let out a frustrated expletive, and the weight of the situation fully hit him.
"You're crazy, Ishani! I come here worried about you, and that's how you react?"Ayan's frustration boiled over, and he blurted out.
"I'm not the crazy one here! You're the one standing in my room like a creep!" Ishani's sharp retort cut through the air, defending herself.
Ayan's jaw tightened, clearly not used to being talked back to like this. The tension in the room grew thick as they faced off, both stubbornly refusing to back down.Ishani crossed her arms, her gaze steady and challenging.
"I'm not a creep. I came here to see if you're okay." Ayan, his patience wearing thin, retorted. Ishani rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, how noble of you," she snarked.
"And you just had to barge into my room like some knight in shining armor."
"I was worried about you, you idiot! You were crying, what else was I supposed to do?"Ayan clenched his fists, his frustration reaching its peak.
"I'm not an idiot, and I don't need your worry. I can handle myself just fine!"Ishani bristled at the barb, defensively firing back.
"Yeah, sure. You handle yourself so well, that's why you were crying in bed watching 'Shershaah' like it's some kind of tragedy!" Ayan's frustration turned into full-blown anger as he shot back.
Ishani's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. She knew he was right, but she wasn't about to admit it.
"That's none of your business!" she retorted, her voice strained.
As siya finished the household work and prepared dinner, she headed towards her room, feeling tired. Her body craved the soft embrace of her bed, yearning for the comfort it promised. However, as she was about to surrender to the inviting sheets, her eyes caught sight of something extraordinary. Placed meticulously on her bedside table was a single, beautiful yellow rose, accompanied by a sticky note. The vibrant color of the flower contrasted beautifully against the mundane surroundings of her room with a mix of curiosity and intrigue, siya gently picked up the sticky note. As her eyes scanned the few words written on it, her heart began to race. The instruction was simple yet captivating.
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