THEM 'Ishman'

Blue Ticks, Red Hearts

The clock read 11:43 PM, and Ishan was sprawled out on his bed, a book balanced precariously on his chest. 

He had told himself tonight would be different—that he wouldn't let Shubman's texts throw him into another spiral of blushing, flustered denial. 

But deep down, he knew the truth. He was waiting for that familiar buzz.

And right on cue, his phone lit up.

Shubman: Hey, Baby Prince.
Miss me yet, or are you still pretending I'm not your favorite person in the world?

Ishan exhaled sharply through his nose, the nickname sending a ripple of warmth down his spine. Shubman was relentless with the nicknames, each more ridiculous—and somehow more intimate—than the last.

Ishan: You've got some nerve calling yourself my favorite.
I'm trying to read, by the way.

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared. Ishan frowned, wondering what Shubman was cooking up this time. 

When the message came through, it was worse than he expected.

Shubman: Reading, huh? Let me guess—you're lying on your bed, all cozy in those soft sweats you love so much. Hair messy, cheeks pink... you must look so precious right now.

Ishan froze, his cheeks heating exactly as Shubman had described. He sat up, glaring at the phone as if it could somehow temper his racing heart.

Ishan: Stop being weird.

Shubman: Weird? Baby, I'm just picturing my favorite view—you, all soft and shy, pretending my words don't affect you.
Do you have any idea how cute you are when you try to act unfazed?

Ishan groaned, throwing his head back against the headboard. Shubman always had a way of knowing exactly how to push his buttons.

Ishan: You're exhausting.

Shubman: And you're irresistible, Doll.
You know, if I were there right now, I wouldn't let you hide behind that book. I'd pull it away, lean in real close, and watch you blush for me.

Ishan's stomach flipped. He hated how easily Shubman could get to him, how just a few words could make his mind spiral into images he didn't ask for.

Ishan: You're impossible.

Shubman: Impossible? Baby, I'm inevitable.
By the way, did you know your ears turn red when you're embarrassed? It's so cute. I'd love to kiss the heat away someday.

Ishan nearly dropped his phone. His hand instinctively flew to his ear, the warmth there making Shubman's claim feel even more real.

Ishan: Do you ever stop flirting?

Shubman: Flirting? Babe, this is just me being honest.
You're the cutest thing I've ever seen, my little shy baby. How can I not tell you that?

"God..." Ishan muttered, burying his face in his hands. His heart was pounding, his body betraying him as warmth spread from his cheeks down to his chest.

When he looked at his phone again, there was another message waiting.

Shubman: You know, if you were here, I'd make you sit on my lap while you read.
I'd wrap my arms around you, tuck my chin into your shoulder... maybe even steal a kiss when you least expect it.