We only got 86 400 seconds in a day
To turn it all around or to throw it all away
Gotta tell 'em that we love 'em while we got the chance to say,
Gotta live like we're dying oh
~ Live Like We're Dying by Kris Allen
Just as soon as he arrives at the decision to fix things, Varun realises that it's not going to be so easy.
The country is in lockdown and, given that he's been pretty vocal about the importance of staying home, it would be hypocritical of him to leave the house for the sole purpose of going to Alia's place and telling her that she may be willing to pretend she has some kind of amnesia but he isn't. 'It's not right,' he tells himself as he paces around his sitting room, 'you don't need to leave the house, it's not urgent, it's not essential.' He pauses his pacing a moment and considers the words that have just left his mouth, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as his feet once again start tracing the path he's been walking for half an hour.
'Not essential? Seriously? We're in the middle of a worldwide pandemic and telling the girl I'm in love that I'm in love with her isn't essential?!' he demands of himself. 'If there's one thing that's been made painfully clear in all this, it's that time is extremely limited.'
'Okay so maybe talking to her is essential,' his brain concedes. 'But you don't need to drive over to her place just to talk. That's literally what phones were invented for!' He can't deny that his brain definitely has a point there. But on the other hand...
'She's not going to be willing to have this conversation over the phone – or probably at all. But if there's going to be any chance, it has to be face-to-face,' his heart refutes.
'That's what video calls were invented for.' At that, he lets out a noise close to a growl, wishing he could physically throttle his own brain.
'Because it's not like she could end a video call with the click of a button or anything right?' he deadpans. Thankfully, his brain doesn't have any smart-ass comeback for that and – finally – falls silent, allowing him to calm down a little.
As he relaxes, he realises he's spent the better part of an hour arguing with himself out loud, and he lets out a sigh. 'And I've officially gone completely insane,' he mutters, running his hand through his hair again as he throws himself on his bed. 'No surprise Alia's the one who made me crack.' He laughs at his own words, shaking his head and closing his eyes, deciding that he needs to sleep on it, have some rest and clear his head before he makes any kind of decisions.
***
When he wakes in the morning, his head is nowhere near being clearer and he certainly doesn't feel well rested – if anything, he feels even more exhausted than he did when he'd gone to bed.
It turns out that falling asleep while thinking about Alia – more specifically, the conversation he needs to have with Alia – isn't the best idea. It's not the first time he's ever fallen asleep thinking about her, far from it in fact. But, usually, his mind being filled with thoughts of her as he drifts off inspire good dreams, the dreams of a life together, a house and a family. And while those dreams might make his heart hurt with longing, they're inherently happy.
The dreams he'd had last night had been anything but.
He'd spent a lot of the night tossing and turning, in that weird place between waking and sleep, deliberating over the dilemma he's facing. But whenever he'd fully drifted off, found himself entirely asleep, he'd been plagued with what he can only call nightmares.
He'd dreamt that he'd finally managed to get his brain to shut up for a minute and managed to gather the courage to go to her and have the conversation he so desperately needed to have with her only for her to turn him away before he even got the words out.
He'd dreamt that he'd gone and she'd listened to him and, for a moment, it seemed like things would finally start looking up. And then she'd laughed in his face and told him she didn't care for him.
He'd dreamt that she'd told him that he was too late, that he had wasted too much time and that, no matter what she might feel for him, she wasn't willing to give it a chance now; that he'd broken her heart and she wasn't willing to risk getting hurt like that again.
Worst of all though was the one dream where he didn't manage to get his brain to give in to his heart. He'd waited until the lockdown was lifted, tried his best to at least keep in touch with her until then, even if it was only a simple hey by text every few days. Towards the end of the lockdown, she'd stopped answering and he'd started to worry but, given that it's the age of social media and instant information, he managed to convince himself she was fine, that she'd just decided to take a break from technology – which definitely wouldn't be a first for her. As soon as the lockdown was lifted, he'd gone to her, only to find that he'd been wrong.
He'd jolted awake at that point, the image of her laying still as death on her bed seared on the inside of his eyelids, making it impossible to even think about going back to sleep.
But, despite his now incredibly increased fear of one of them not making it through the pandemic, he still can't manage to get his brain to concede control to his heart. Because even though the fear of never even getting the chance to tell her how he feels is the one that haunts him the most, he can't deny that the others are just as valid.
It's the most terrifying thing about his nightmares really, that each and every one of them could happen. They are realistic not only because they are nightmares and that is the way of nightmares but because there is every chance that they could come true – not a quality most nightmares have.
Which is why he spends yet another day arguing with himself about what he should do. And, by the time the sun goes down and the sky turns dark, he still hasn't reached a decision.
So he resigns himself to another night of restless sleep and nightmares that are way too real.
And when he wakes up the next day, the cycle starts itself over again. Though this time it's interrupted for an hour or two by his bhabhi and Niyaara who decide that not hearing from him for more than two days is definitely cause for concern.
He's glad for their company and the distraction that his niece provides – and so, so very glad that he made the decision to buy an apartment in the same building as his parents otherwise he's sure he'd be beyond the edge of insanity by now. But he's not too happy about the way his bhabhi can read him like an open book, of the way her eyes follow him more than Niyaara, of the way she watches him carefully.
He waits and waits for her to bring it up, for her to ask the question he knows is on the tip of her tongue, feeling his anxiety levels rise the longer he has to wait, until, when he feels like he's going to burst waiting for it, she finally asks. 'There's something on your mind, isn't there?'
'What are you talking about?' he asks, feigning obliviousness as he continues playing with the toddler sat on the floor in front of him.
'Don't even try it Varun. We both know that there's something bothering you so why don't you just spit it out.' He sighs but doesn't say anything, continuing to attempt to dodge the question. 'Since when do you try to hide things from me?'
'I don't bhabhi. I just, I don't even know what it is,' he tries, getting an eyeroll from his sister-in-law.
Leaning forwards, she covers Niyaara's ears and says, 'don't bullshit me Varun. Just tell me what it is on your mind.' She moves her hands from her daughter's ears and fixes her devr with a look.
He exhales slowly, running a hand over his face and shaking his head before finally meeting her eyes. 'I would – if I could even figure out where to start.'
Jaanvi spends a long moment looking at him, just looking at him, in complete silence before she speaks again. 'It's not something is it?' she asks, 'it's someone.'
'Why do you know me so well,' he all but groans. 'Yes. It's someone.'
'Am I going to have to guess or are you going to tell me?'
'You ask like it's even going to be that hard to guess,' he mutters with a mirthless laugh.
'Alia,' Jaanvi states, not bothering to even attempt to make it resemble a question.
'Alia,' he agrees.
'So, what is it? Are you two fighting again?'
'No. Not recently anyway. The last fight we got into was a year ago.'
'What's the problem then?'
'That's it. That's the problem! We're not fighting. We talk sometimes. We get along as well as we ever have – maybe better.'
'I'm confused. The problem here is that you're getting along?' she questions, looking at him in amused disbelief. 'Only with the two of you could that be considered a problem.'
'Except it's not the two of us, it's only me,' he tells her, finally coming around to the root of the problem.
'Okay, I think you need to tell me everything. From the beginning.'
He closes his eyes for a long moment, inhaling and exhaling as slowly as he possibly can and burying his head in his hands before speaking. 'When we were wrapping up promotions for Kalank, the last day, we got into a massive fight. Bigger than usual. The kind of fight that I thought might mean the end of our friendship. She walked out, stormed out, and I didn't follow her – because I'm an idiot – but then, the next time I see her, she's acting like everything is completely normal. And I mean. it's not like it was a small matter, not something that you just brush off, you know? But she did. And she still is. Every single time I see her, she still has a smile for me, that same smile that she's always had – the one that makes her whole face light up. The one that, that – ' he falters, realising what he'd been about to say.
'That what?' she prompts. 'The smile that what?'
'The smile that makes my heart jump. The one that makes me feel like we're the only two people in the room,' he admits softly.
His bhabhi puts a hand on his arm, the touch gentle and comforting. 'What was that fight about?' He shakes his head, not wanting to tell her the entire truth. 'What was it about, Varun?'
'She told me she loves me. She told me that she's been trying to say it for years, that I just never listen. That the whole world can see it, that everyone else knows the truth, it's just me that's never been able to understand.'
'She's not wrong.'
'I know that!' he exclaims. 'But that's not even the worst part.'
'It gets worse?' His bhabhi sounds genuinely shocked at that, like she couldn't fathom how it could possibly be worse. 'You're telling me that she told you she loves you – which, by the way, you should have figured out years ago like the rest of us did – and, for whatever reason, you let her walk out after that, didn't chase after her. And instead of being pissed at you like she should be, she still somehow manages to be friends with you, manages to look at you the same way and smile at you like you're everything to her. And somehow it gets worse?'
'I know, I know.'
'What did you do?'
For a second, he thinks of acting affronted, asking why she automatically assumes he'd done something but he knows that it's a stupid question. 'I kissed her,' he confesses.
'Okay, what else did you do?'
'Nothing.' She just looks at him with an eyebrow raised, waiting for him to continue. 'I didn't do anything. Literally. I kissed her and then I didn't say anything. I stood there, like an idiot, and didn't say a single damned word.'
'You what?'
'Before you say anything else, I know that I'm a moron. The world's biggest moron. But I've been trying to fix it. For an entire year. But she won't talk about it. Clams up the second I bring it up. But recently, it's been playing on my mind more than ever. And I want to talk to her about it, I need to. And this lockdown would give me the perfect chance because I could go there and she wouldn't be able to give me some kind of excuse about needing to be somewhere. But, at the same time, it's a lockdown. And, yeah, talking to her is definitely a priority but I can't justify going out, going all the way to her place out of the city, at a time like this...'
'And there's no way you could have this conversation over the phone,' his bhabhi finishes for him.
'Exactly.'
'So then what are you waiting for? Yes it's a lockdown. But it's also a worldwide pandemic. If there's ever a time to tell someone what you're feeling, it's now.'
'I know that! But try telling my stupid brain that. I keep thinking about it, keep trying to convince myself. But every time I get close, I get reminded of the fact that I'd be an idiot to do it.'
'You'd be an idiot not to do it,' she deadpans. 'A big one.' Varun just looks at her, hoping she might say something more but she doesn't. Instead, she gets up from her seat on the sofa and leans down to scoop up the one year old playing on the floor.
'You're going already?' he asks, getting up from the floor.
'You've got a lot to be thinking about; I think it's best we give you some time alone to think about it.' He looks like he wants to protest but she stops him before he can with a shake of her head and a smile. 'Just think about it. And let me know when you sort things out with Alia.'
He lets out a chuckle and nods, promising that he will.
And then his bhabhi and niece are gone, the door shutting behind them, and he's left alone with his thoughts again.
A/N: Again, I know it's short and I left it on a cliffhanger again and I'm sorry!!
I just wanted to get something up while it's still the 24th here. The next - and final - part should hopefully be published in a week - or ten days at most.
And, once again, I'm having trouble believing that this guy
is another year older.
But, Happy Birthday to one very special Varun Dhawan. And here's to many more years of being the awesome and entertaining person he is!