Rahul And Sourav - My Version

Hello from the other side

Warnings: Drama, BL, Psychological issue, Death, Sad Ending, Heartbreak

Sourav's eyes fluttered open, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains of his Kolkata home. For a moment, he lay still, savoring the familiar warmth of the bed and the comforting presence beside him. With a deep breath, he slowly rose, his movements measured and deliberate, as if he were afraid of disrupting the delicate balance of the world around him.

Sourav made his way to the kitchen, the soft patter of his slippered feet echoing in the quiet house. Mechanically, he filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove, the familiar ritual unfolding like a well-choreographed dance. As the water came to a boil, he reached for two mugs, carefully selecting the one with the intricate floral design that Rahul had always favored.

"Good morning, my love," Sourav murmured, his gaze softening as he poured the steaming tea into the two cups. "I hope you slept well."

He paused before a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He carried the mugs to the small dining table, placing them in front of him. With a gentle sigh, he sank into his own seat, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic, savoring the familiar aroma.

"I know how much you enjoy your morning tea," Sourav said, his voice tinged with wistfulness. "Remember that time we were running late for the match, and I still insisted on making us a proper cup before we left?" A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he recalled the memory.

Sourav's eyes drifted towards the window, his mind wandering to the countless mornings he and Rahul had shared in this very spot, engaged in lively conversations that spanned topics from cricket to their dreams for the future. The warmth of those moments seemed to linger in the air.

Closing his eyes, Sourav allowed the recollections to wash over him, the details etching themselves into his mind with vivid clarity. He felt Rahul's hand in his, their fingers intertwined, and heard the gentle cadence of his voice as they made plans for the day ahead.

"I love you so much, baby." Sourav murmured, taking a sip of his tea. The familiar blend of flavors momentarily transported him back to those carefree days, when their partnership had extended far beyond the cricket field and into the fabric of their everyday lives.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Sourav forced himself to return to the present, his fingers tracing the edge of Rahul's mug. A melancholic sigh escaped his lips as he glanced around the kitchen, the morning sunlight casting a golden glow over the familiar space.

"Let's have the tea," Sourav murmured, glancing at Rahul once more. "I know how much you hate it when I let the tea get cold."

With a wistful smile, Sourav raised his mug, silently toasting the memories he shared with the man he loved.

Sourav stepped through the threshold of the bedroom, the air heavy with the weight of memories. His eyes swept over the familiar surroundings, taking in the worn quilt draped across the bed, the framed photographs adorning the walls, and the faint scent of Rahul's cologne that lingered.

He sank down on the edge of the mattress, running his fingers over the worn leather journal cradled in his lap. The pages were filled with their dreams, their plans, their thoughts - a tangible testament to the life they had once shared.

"Rahul, do you remember when we first decided to buy this house?" Sourav's voice trembled. "We spent weeks debating the perfect location, the right number of rooms, the spots where we could grow our own garden." He paused, a small, wistful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You were so excited about the herb garden, weren't you?"