What after That?

Ch 47.

Shubman sat on the chair near the telephone table, leaning forward like a detective in a noir film, his hand absentmindedly stroking his chin. 

His eyebrows were furrowed, his lips slightly pursed as if he were trying to crack the most critical case of his life. 

But this wasn't about solving a murder or a theft—it was about deciding whether or not to call Abhi and confess what had happened.

The kiss.

Shubman's foot tapped nervously on the floor as his mind replayed the scene over and over. Ishan's teary, smiling face, the press of his lips, and the overwhelming, confusing feelings that followed. 

Should I call Abhi? he thought, biting his lip. 

Would he judge me? 

Would he laugh if I told him I liked the kiss of a boy?

His mind wandered to Abhi's words from before. Abhi had hinted at something more than once, hadn't he? 

"Teri Alia se jalti hai," he'd said with a smirk. Shubman had brushed it off with jokes or by changing the topic. But now, thinking back, those words carried weight. Abhi had noticed something that Shubman himself had been too blind—or too scared—to see.

"Kabhi to samajh ki kiske khayalo mein hai tu..." 

Abhi had muttered one day. "Saala itna blind kaise ho sakta hai..."

Shubman's eyes widened as the memories pieced themselves together. Was I really that obvious? he thought. Could everyone see it except me?

And then the biggest question hit him like a ton of bricks: Since when have I been liking Ishan?

He leaned back in the chair, letting his head fall against the cushion as he stared at the ceiling. The memories flooded in, and he started analyzing every moment.

Was it that first time he smiled softly at me? 

Was it his eyes? Those lashes—they were like magic, casting a spell I didn't even realize I was under?

Maybe it was when I teased him? 

Or was it when we started talking openly, about silly things, deep things, everything?
When? How? 

Is this even possible? 

Me and Ishan?

Shubman's lips curled into a small smile, his face warming as a blush spread across his cheeks. He sat up straight, muttering to himself, "Saala, abhi mereko sharam bhi aa rahi hai... wow." He let out a small laugh, covering his face with his hands.

The realization was overwhelming but oddly comforting. Shubman didn't have all the answers, but one thing was clear—he liked Ishan. 

Maybe he had for a while, but the feeling was there, and it wasn't going away.

For now, though, he decided against calling Abhi. Some things, he thought, were better figured out on your own.

Shubman paced back and forth in his room, his heart pounding as he thought about facing Ishan tomorrow. 

He was scared, yes, but more than that, he was determined. I don't want things to be awkward. I need to tell him. I need him to know... His thoughts trailed off, and a rosy blush crept onto his cheeks as he imagined confessing. 

His mind even wandered to the idea of kissing Ishan, like in the movies. Bas ek chance mile, hiding from everyone, he thought, grinning like an idiot.