Alternate Universe. Can be read as general fiction.
Trigger warning : mentions of self harm/suicide/depression
Suman Tiwari and Shravan Malhotra have never met before, despite the amiable bond their families share. While Suman is at ease with his fa...
~Khali hai jo tere bina, mai wo ghar hu tera. Ghoome fire, tu chahe sab sheher, Tu hai mera!
-Ghar, Jab Harry met Sejal!
Three months. Ninety odd days.
A lot of time, to say, and yet, it looked like it had all passed in a blink, to Shravan. When he had come back, come home, he had thought each day would be harder than the next, and it had been the entire opposite. Each day was easier than the next. Kamini Chachi's cooking seemed better every day, Lalaji's jokes seemed more funnier every day, and his parents, most importantly, seemed more at ease to him, with every passing day.
Standing near the French windows of his room, Shravan was in a fix. Usually, the moon was his ally, his fixed spot to stare at. But now, he had another, the view in the garden, in the swing. His mother was laughing at his father's stories, while they shared the same tub of ice-cream. Shravan smiled, and it reached his eyes, his heart beat near normal rather than the tachycardia he felt when he saw these two together. He had been used to the idea now, that his parents could be together, and happily so. That his childhood wasn't ideal, but his adulthood could be.
Pushkar's wounds had healed. His therapies had decreased to twice a month. He was doing better. And there was something about Suman's cousin meeting him regularly in a park, that Shravan knew but had dutifully kept the secret about. Things looked good, and then there was Suman.
He could not help but smile at the thought.
Suman Tiwari- the tornado that had changed his life upside down.
Shravan chuckled to himself, at her thought. The petite girl in braids, who used to be so afraid of Pushkar's elder brother, to the grown woman who claimed to be his best friend, she was an engima in herself. He loved her eyes, the way they shined. He was in awe of how strong she was, she had not crumbled even after the tragedies she had faced. She had continued to walk, even if she stumbled, and looking at her, he felt the hope he thought he had lost over all these years.
He sighed, he didn't need anything else to think about now. When his heart and his mind agreed that she was equivalent to his hope, there was a little less anyone could argue about. He smiled to himself, at the realization, rubbing the back of his nape.
On an instinct, his phone rang, and he picked up, in a heartbeat.
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"Bolo", his voice was calm, but his heart was racing.
Suman, on the other side, frowned.
"Bolo? What bolo? Hi, hello, namaste, there is a greeting first. Ye kya tha, bolo?", she taunted him, and it made him chuckle more.
"Sorry. Hello Suman, How are you? How may I help you? Better?", he changed his dialect and earned a heartfelt giggle.
" Good. A lot better actually. Also, I have two Kulfis, and a bowl of a special sweet dish. So you may help me by meeting me in the my swing outside Tiwari Killa, in like ten minutes!", she ordered, and cut the call.
