~Ahoy, gentle hearts~
And so, it begins...
From one hopeless 𐙚Ishman꒱ romantic to another...Yes just another heart beating a little faster for themᯓ★
Building a sanctuary for every soul that aches for Ishman's love story- A gc wanted t...
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I tried my best to not write something cringe but my whole existence is cringe 🧘♀️💅
(mafi chahati hu)
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Later that day, Ishan decided to commit a crime of his own one that was far more dangerous than any of Shubman’s mafia dealings:
'Wearing a tight black shirt.'
It was innocent enough, really.
He just wanted to look cute for once. (Not that he wasn’t always cute- he was. Obviously.)
But today, he had plans to meet an old friend from college, Riyan, who was visiting after years.
Ishan pranced around the mansion, adjusting his hair, humming a song under his breath, completely oblivious to the pair of sharp eyes burning holes into the back of his head.
Shubman was watching from the living room, his jaw clenched, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like a predator who just spotted his prey trying to escape.
And Ishan? Clueless.
Shubman : Where are you going, sweetheart?
Shubman asked, his voice smooth but dangerously low.
Ishan : Oh! Riyan is in town. You remember him, right? We were in the same college.
Shubman’s eye twitched.
Riyan.
The name sounded like a threat.
Ishan : We’re just having coffee. It’s been ages! I’m so excited. He used to help me with math. Such a sweetheart, really-
Shubman stood up.
Shubman : Sweetheart?
Ishan : Yeah, I mean friendly sweetheart. Not like, you sweetheart. Obviously.
Shubman’s jaw tightened.
Shubman : Obviously.
Ishan didn’t notice the dark cloud forming around his mafia husband.
Ishan : He’s waiting downstairs. I’ll be back soon!
He grabbed his phone and headed toward the door.
Big mistake.
Before he could even touch the handle, Shubman’s hand shot out, gripping his wrist.
