Heartstrings and URLs

Chapter 13: Fragile Threads

A dull ache pulsed through Jasmine's body as she stirred awake. The distant sound of murmured voices reached her ears, but it took her a moment to register where she was. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the faint beeping of a monitor reminded her—hospital.

Her eyelashes fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was a familiar face leaning over her.

Ayaan.

His sharp gaze softened as he exhaled in relief. "Finally awake, huh?" His voice was quiet but firm.

Jasmine tried to sit up, wincing as pain shot through her knee.

"Careful, idiot," he muttered, placing a hand on her shoulder to keep her from moving too much. "You scared the hell out of me last night."

A soft chuckle broke the silence. "Well, at least she's still herself," Neha remarked, stepping closer to the bed. Her voice held warmth, but there was something else too—worry.

Jasmine blinked, processing their presence. "Neha? What are you doing here?"

"Ayaan called me," Neha said, crossing her arms. "He needed someone to help cover for you before your parents arrived. We told them we had a school get-together, and you got into a road accident on the way back."

Jasmine's throat tightened. These two—both of them—had done so much for her. She didn't deserve it.

Ayaan leaned against the side of her bed, watching her closely. "Now, tell me something, Jasmine," he said, his voice lower, more serious. "Who the hell is Ankit?"

Jasmine's breath hitched.

Neha, who had been observing the entire exchange, smirked knowingly. "Oh, I was wondering when you'd ask that."

Ayaan's jaw tensed. "The guy was acting crazy when I called him last night. He threatened to sue me, thinking I was some creep trying to hurt you. I want to know why he's so damn protective of you."

Jasmine looked down, her fingers gripping the hospital sheet. She didn't know what to say—what could she say?

Neha glanced at her and then at Ayaan. "He's...important to her," she answered for Jasmine. "But let's not pressure her now, okay?"

Ayaan scoffed but didn't push further. "Whatever," he muttered, then glanced back at Jasmine. "Just... don't pull something this stupid again."

Jasmine swallowed and nodded, tears pricking her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "Both of you."

Ayaan looked away, his fingers fidgeting. Neha just smiled, squeezing Jasmine's hand.

A few minutes later, the hospital door swung open.

Jasmine's parents rushed in, their faces pale with worry.

Her mother immediately cupped her face, eyes scanning for any more injuries. "Jasmine, what happened? Are you okay?"

Jasmine forced a smile. "I'm fine, Mom. Just a little careless."

Her father let out a breath, shaking his head. "You need to be more careful. What if it was worse?"

Her younger brother, who had come along, crossed his arms and grinned. "So, you're finally getting into accidents now? Should I be worried about you?"

His teasing helped lighten the atmosphere, and Jasmine chuckled weakly.

Meanwhile, Ayaan and Neha played their roles perfectly, sticking to the story they had planned.

Her mother, however, wasn't entirely convinced. Jasmine could see it in her eyes—the doubt. But she didn't push the matter, at least not now.

After everyone had calmed down and the initial fuss had passed, Jasmine found herself alone in the room.

"Ayaan, my phone?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

He hesitated for a moment before pulling it out of his pocket and handing it to her. "Be careful with whatever you're about to do."

She gave him a weak nod and unlocked the screen.

Missed calls. Unread messages.

All from Ankit.

Her fingers trembled as she clicked on the messages.

Ankit: Jasmine, where are you?
Ankit: I swear, if something has happened to you...
Ankit: Pick up the damn phone.
Ankit: Please.

Jasmine inhaled shakily, typing a response.

Jasmine: I'm not feeling good.

Seconds later, the typing bubble appeared.

Ankit: What happened?

Jasmine stared at the screen. She couldn't tell him the truth, but she knew he would sense something was wrong.

Before she could respond, her phone vibrated.

A call from Ankit.

Her heartbeat quickened. She couldn't pick it up. Not yet.

As she debated what to do, her phone pinged again—another message.

Ankit: Jasmine, talk to me.

And just then, another call came through. But this time, it wasn't for her.

Ayaan's phone rang.

He frowned as he glanced at the screen, then glanced at Jasmine.

"It's Ankit," he muttered.

Jasmine's stomach twisted.

Neha and Ayaan exchanged looks before Ayaan finally answered.

"Hello?"

A pause. Then Ankit's sharp voice came through.

"Where is she? What happened?"

Ayaan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's in the hospital."

A long silence followed.

Then Ankit's voice, quiet but filled with something raw.

"What the hell happened to her, Ayaan?"