writtenwithlove_
BY : Anshi
Tanvi Thakur carries a war inside her heart.
One part of her wants to run-hide behind silence, protect herself from hope.
The other part aches to stay, to feel chosen, to be seen.
She doesn't believe she is meant for love.
Not with this skin.
Not with this face.
Not with the way she constantly doubts her own worth.
Ayush Ahlawat walks into her life like a question she is afraid to answer.
Calm. Steady. Certain.
The kind of presence that doesn't demand-only waits.
Tanvi gives him reasons. Many of them.
As if love needs permission.
"Mera rang dekh kar log aksar nazar pher lete hain,"
she says.
"Aap bhi kisi din wahi karenge."
Ayush doesn't interrupt.
He only replies, softly-
"Rang nazron ko dhokha de sakta hai, Tanvi...
par sach ko nahi."
She tries again.
"Main khud se hi khush nahi hoon," she confesses.
"Phir main aapko kaise khush rakh paungi?"
He answers without hesitation-
"Jo khud se lad raha ho,
woh kisi aur ka dard sabse pehle samajhta hai."
Her heart trembles, but fear still wins.
"Main khoobsurat nahi hoon," she whispers, almost apologetically.
Ayush looks at her like she has said something impossible.
"Khoobsurati woh hoti hai jo waqt ke saath kam ho jaaye,"
he says gently.
"Aap woh ehsaas hain jo waqt ke saath gehra hota jaata hai."
She wants to believe him.
She really does.
But wanting him feels dangerous.
Because if she lets herself stay-
she might finally hope.
"Main aapko har ek wajah dena chahti hoon," she says,
"ki aap mujhe pasand na karein."
His reply is quiet, but final-
"Aur main har ek wajah ko mohabbat se jhooth sabit kar dunga."
This is not a story about convincing someone to love you.
It's about unlearning the reasons you gave yourself to be unloved.
A girl who keeps pushing away what she secretly wants-
and a boy who stays, not loudly, not forcefully,
but with patience, respect, and a love that never demands.