Delhi or Dilli-bustling streets, endless chai tapris, and a city where dreams are both made and broken. In this chaos, Anchal is focused on her career, dodging her parents' shaadi ki baatein, while Varshith, a perfectionist set to inherit his father...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
| Aur Bas, Ho Gaya |
It was love at first sight for Akhil Kumar.
Call him delusional, call him stupid, he hardly gives a fuck. How else was he supposed to explain the way his pulse betrayed him every single time he thought of-fuck, he didn't even get to know her name except Sen.
All thanks to Anchal Gupta, He clicked his tongue, flipping another page of the case file spread across his desk. He wanted to curse that impossible woman for refusing to tell him anything, but he never could. for she had saved his brother's life.
Akhil shuddered at the memory.
He clearly remembers the day like it was yesterday. He had been sitting in the very same chair, drowning beneath paperwork, when Srishti's call flashed across his phone. Her usual chirpy voice which had always warmed his heart, was full of panic as she managed to sputter about the accident to him. He was alarmed but didn't fret over it much. Varshith was a tough guy and would be okay, it must be a small accident and maybe Srishti was worried about nothing.
Varshith's impossible to kill, he'd thought while rushing out of the office. Probably fractured an arm or something.
He'd believed it right until he reached the hospital. The glowing green light above the operation theatre had shattered every illusion he had. Mocking him brutally. He still remembered hearing fragments of the doctors' conversation with Uncle Vijay and Aunty Varsha. Internal bleeding. Critical condition. Massive blood loss.
And then the guilt had arrived, crashing into him with the force of a freight train.
"And if you're planning to spend your whole life bottling everything up, don't be surprised if one day it kills you."
Those had been Akhil's last words to Varshith. Spat in frustration, during yet another argument.
Oh, what a terrible human he was. Who said things like that to the only family they had?
He didn't even remember leaving the corridor. One moment he'd been outside the operation theatre, and the next he found himself sitting alone on a deserted staircase somewhere inside the hospital, elbows resting on his knees, face buried in his trembling palms. And for the first time in years, Akhil had cried. Quietly, in the cradle of his palms.
And then he had heard her. "Are you okay?" A sweet, melodious voice laced with concern had asked him. Gentle enough to stop his world. She stood one step above him, afternoon sunlight filtering through the narrow staircase window behind her. Dark curls framed an olive-toned face, slightly disheveled as if she'd been running moments earlier. Her wide brown eyes carried neither curiosity nor pity. Only concern. She seemed just as startled when their eyes met.
She had offered him a water bottle, jade green in color. Akhil was humored. She sure loved green, considering her shirt was a dark shade of green too. That very water bottle now was kept safely in his cabinet, by the way. She had sat beside him on the steps, albeit hesitantly, while he drank water to calm himself down. "Thanks," he had muttered. "It's fine," she had said, with a soft smile.
