The roar of the crowd filled Wankhede Stadium as the Mumbai Indians battled against the Sunrisers Hyderabad. The tension was palpable; Abhishek Sharma stood ready in deep mid-wicket, adrenaline pumping through his veins. It was an important match, and he was determined to make a play.
“Come on, Abhi!” his teammate shouted from the sidelines, urging him on.
Suryakumar Yadav, the dangerous batsman, took his stance, and the anticipation grew. The moment the ball was hit, it soared into the air, heading straight for Abhishek. “Yeh mera hai!” he called out, sprinting forward to catch it.
But just as he reached up, his ankle twisted awkwardly on the ground, sending him crashing down. Pain shot through his leg, and he gasped, gripping his ankle as the crowd’s cheers turned into concerned murmurs.
“Bhai, thik hai?” his teammates rushed to his side, worry etched on their faces.
“Lagta hai ankle twist ho gaya,” Abhishek grimaced, trying to steady his breath.
In that moment, Vani Kapoor, part of the medical team, hurried onto the field. As she knelt beside him, he couldn’t help but notice how focused she was. “Let me take a look,” she said, her voice calm amid the chaos.
As she examined his ankle, Abhishek felt a strange mix of pain, and something else—something about her presence - captivated him. Vani’s brows were furrowed in concentration, her fingers gentle as she began to bandage his leg. He stared at her, entranced by the way her hair framed her face, and he felt a warmth spreading through him.
Vani glanced up, catching his gaze, and a blush crept into her cheeks. The intensity of his stare made her heart race. “Zyada dard ho raha hai?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, though she could feel her own nervousness bubbling beneath the surface.
He nodded, still watching her intently. Vani felt her cheeks warm further under his gaze, a rush of shyness flooding her. It was hard to focus on her task when he was looking at her like that. She bit her lip, trying to concentrate as she secured the bandage, but the flutter in her stomach made it difficult.
As she finished, she helped him sit up. “You’ll be okay, but rest zaroori hai,” she instructed, her tone a mix of professionalism and care.
“Thank you, Vani,” Abhishek replied, sincerity in his voice. For a fleeting moment, the noise of the stadium faded away, leaving just the two of them in their shared space.
As they made their way back to the dugout, Abhishek couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. Amid the excitement of the match, a quiet connection had begun to form, hinting at the possibilities ahead.
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Tbc
Your author
Suku ✨️
