Ch:9 Forbidden My Love

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What do you mean, Rohit bhaiya?" Ishan asked in disbelief.

"I'm afraid, Ishan, but it's true. You will not be playing in the T20s this year," said Rohit, massaging his temple in stress.

"Why do they always do this to me? Did I not perform well in the IPL?"

"You're not at fault, Ishan" Rohit replied, casting a sympathetic glance at the despondent boy before him.

"It's not the first time. Will they always treat me like this?" Ishan murmured, his gaze dropping as he grappled with feelings of self-pity.

"I don't know, man. Even Shubman hasn't been selected for the T20s."

"What? Even Shubman?" Ishan's shock momentarily eclipsed his own disappointment as he empathized with Shubman's situation.

"Where is he? I haven't seen him since yesterday. What's keeping him so busy these days?"

"Ye to tu na jaane ga sath meto tum dono hi rehte ho room me"

_______

Author:

Ishan felt lost as he lay alone in bed, missing the warmth of his shubhie beside him. For two weeks now, Ishan had been sleeping alone in the bed, waking up to the emptiness that surrounded him. Each morning, he longed for the familiar warmth of Shubman's presence, a comforting embrace that had become a cherished part of his routine.

Whenever Shubman came back to the room, Ishan tried to talk to him, but Shubman always seemed to avoid the conversation.

Lately, Shubman had been drinking a lot, which worried Ishan because it wasn't like him.

Surrounded by suffocating pressures, Ishan felt overwhelmed. With both Shubman's absence and the news of his own cutoff from T20, he yearned to confide in his arms, to share the weight of their shared burdens. Yet, each time the impulse arose to seek solace in Shubman's company,
Ishan was reminded of the stark reality: Shubman was not there for him.
Alone with his thoughts, Ishan grappled with the weight of his emotions, longing for the reassurance and support that only Shubman could provide.

________

Ishan's pov:

Turning myself towards the window, I let my back face the closed door of the hotel room.

Despite the spaciousness of the room, I curled up in a ball on the bed, craving the comfort of isolation.
The soft creaking of the door opening and closing barely registered in my consciousness, a mere echo in the vastness of my solitude.
Perhaps it was Tilak or Mayank, coming to offer comfort in their own way. Yet, in that moment, I harbored no desire to entertain anyone.

As I lay there, unmoving, a sudden presence on the bed startled me from my reverie. Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a tight embrace, while a familiar warmth nestled against my neck.

In that moment, I hesitated to acknowledge the identity of the person holding me, reluctant to accept that it could be Shubman.

If not for the recent distance that had crept between us, I would have eagerly declared that the arms enveloping me belonged to Shubman. But now, uncertainty clouded my thoughts, shrouding the familiar contours of our intimacy in doubt. It had been too long since we had touched each other, too long since Shubman had shown any sign of affection towards me.

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