𐙚Ishman Melodies

Love On Peak🍒⋅˚✮

another sickfic😗

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It was a lazy Sunday morning at the ICT dorm, and Ishan was peacefully snuggled in his blanket, completely unaware of the chaos about to unfold.

Ishan let out a soft yawn, stretching his arms, when suddenly-

"Achoo!"

Startled, Ishan shot up, his messy hair falling into his eyes.

He turned to see Shubman, sitting on his own bed, clutching a tissue and looking absolutely miserable.

"Dude, tu theek hai?" Ishan asked, half amused, half concerned.

Shubman gave him a weak glare. "Do I look fine? Mera gala, nose, sab band hai."

Ishan smirked, leaning back against the headboard. "Karma, Shubh. Remember when I was sick and you forced me to eat that bitter gourd soup? Ab bhugto."

Shubman groaned, trying to blow his nose, but it sounded more like a duck quacking.

Ishan snorted. "Duckman Gill. New nickname, kya bolta hai?"

Shubman shot him a deadly look, but it was ruined by another loud sneeze.

Ishan couldn’t help but laugh. "Aww, poor baby. You want some karela soup? Or maybe that disgusting bitter juice you made me drink? Remember how you said, 'It’s good for your health, Ishu'?"

Ishan mimicked Shubman's serious tone.

Shubman sniffed, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. "I was just trying to help you feel better, idiot."

"Haan haan, and now it’s my turn to help. Ab main tumhe banake pilata hoon wo taste-less green veggie soup. It’s good for your health, Gill sahab" Ishan teased, getting out of bed and heading toward the small kitchen.

Shubman’s eyes widened. "Wait, no! Ishu, please, kuch aur de de."

"Sorry, deal’s a deal," Ishan grinned wickedly.

"Plus, yeh bhi tumhare health ke liye hi hai. Thoda adjust karlo."

Shubman slumped back against the pillows, defeated. Ishan could hear him muttering curses under his breath, but he didn’t care.

Revenge never tasted sweeter.

As Ishan started rummaging through the kitchen, he couldn't help but hum a tune.

"Kuch din pehle jab main bimaar tha, tab bhi na sympathy mili thi na taste ki parwah. Ab sab kuch milega, par taste nahi," he whispered to himself with a satisfied smile.

Shubman tried to glare at him from across the room, but his watery eyes and red nose made him look more like a grumpy kitten.

Ishan almost felt bad. Almost.

A few minutes later, he came back with a bowl of thick, suspiciously green soup and a glass of bitter gourd juice.

"Yeh kya hai?" Shubman asked, his voice muffled from under the blankets.

"Soup," Ishan replied innocently. "Aur yeh juice bohot healthy. Drink up!"

Shubman made a face. "I’m not drinking that."

Ishan raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you will. Remember how you forced it down my throat while lecturing me about 'good habits'? Karma, Shubhi. Karma."