What after That?

Ch 64.

Ishan shut the door of his dorm room, leaning against it as he huffed from all the running.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his mind was a complete whirlwind.

Slowly, he pushed himself off the door and took hesitant steps toward the mirror, his gaze fixed on the floor.

He knew.

He knew his face was probably as red as a tomato, but he couldn’t muster the courage to check.

His palms felt clammy, his heartbeat still erratic from the events that had just unfolded. With a shaky breath, he finally lifted his head, meeting his own reflection.

His eyes widened. His entire face, neck, and even the tips of his ears were flushed. He stared, the color spreading down his body like a wildfire.

Embarrassed, he quickly turned his gaze away and stumbled toward his bed, plopping down with a frustrated sigh.

Burying his face in his hands, Ishan muttered, "What the hell was that?"

He tried to push away the memory, but it kept replaying in his head—Shubman’s proximity, the way his breath had brushed against his skin, the subtle, teasing air blows.

It had been too much. Ishan wasn’t used to feeling like this, not with anyone. Sure, he’d hugged people before, and even with Shubman, they’d shared more intimate moments, their kisses..

but this…

"This was different," he whispered to himself, his hands sliding down his face.

His skin still tingled where Shubman had been close, and the sensation made his stomach twist in the strangest way.

It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t something he could explain either.

He again sat on the bed, hugging his knees as he gently swung back and forth, replaying the events in his.

His cheeks were still warm, and his thoughts were anything but calm. What the hell even happened back there? he wondered, biting his lip in frustration.

As his mind tried to piece together his feelings, he heard the faint creak of the door opening.

His eyes widened in alarm. Without wasting a second, he flung himself onto the bed, lying down with his back to the door.

Grabbing a pillow, he quickly buried his face into it, his breathing uneven as he tried to act as natural as possible.

Then, with a flash of panic, he grabbed another pillow and placed it strategically over his bum.

Just in case, he thought, as a precaution. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stay calm, but his heart was racing.

The footsteps grew closer, slow and deliberate. He could already sense who it was, even without looking. Shubman.

Shubman stood beside the bed, watching Ishan’s tightly curled figure. A small smile played on his lips as he bent down slightly, planting soft, airy kisses all over Ishan’s head.

Each kiss hovered just above his hair, never quite touching him, but enough for Ishan to feel the warmth of Shubman’s presence.

Ishan’s grip on the pillow tightened, refusing to respond. Ignore him. Just ignore him. But the sound of Shubman’s soft chuckle made his ears turn red.

Though He was still upset, still hurt, and Shubman could feel it.

Shubman straightened up, sighing softly. "Good night, baby," he said gently, his voice laced with a warmth that tugged at Ishan’s chest.