“Vayuu!” I called out his name but there was no response from the other end.
I slipped on his shirt, the fabric carrying his warmth, but it did little to calm the unease creeping through me.
As I walked towards the door, the sunlight followed, spilling into the hallway as I made my way to the kitchen, my mind racing with thoughts of losing him.
But then I saw him—bathed in the soft morning light, standing shirtless by the stove, quietly making breakfast.
The sight of him, calm and steady, immediately washed away the fear that had tightened my chest.
He glanced over his shoulder as I entered, his eyes lighting up as they met mine. "Good morning, Sunflower!” he said with a soft smile, his voice pulling me back from my fears.
I rushed into his arms, unable to hold back the wave of emotion that surged through me.
As I wrapped myself around him, my grip tight, tears pooled in my eyes, blurring the sight of him.
His warmth, his steady heartbeat beneath my ear, reminded me that for now, he was still here—safe, in my arms.
He held me close, his hands gently stroking my back, sensing my unspoken fears.
He held me a little tighter, sensing my vulnerability. “Does it hurt down there?” he asked gently, concern lacing his voice.
I shook my head, giving a soft pat to his chest before dipping my face into his broad frame.
“Shut up! I thought you’d already left,” I whispered, my voice muffled against his chest.
The thought of him being gone, even for a moment, had stirred up more than just worry—it was the fear of losing him to the unknown.
He gently lifted my chin, his eyes locking with mine, filled with tenderness.
“Tujhe bina bataye jaunga to mera dil kese lagega?” he whispered, brushing a soft kiss against my forehead.
I tightened my hold around him, the quietness wrapping around us like a fragile veil.
The only sound breaking the stillness was the soft ticking of the clock, each second a reminder that our time together was slipping away.
My heart sank deeper with every tick, knowing the time for his departure was approaching.
His flight was scheduled for the night and though he was heading to Bangalore to be with his parents, the thought of parting weighed heavily on me.
Before that, we still had one more stop—my parents’ home. My mother had insisted that he visit before he left.
He kissed my forehead gently and said, "You should have breakfast before getting ready."
The warmth of his lips lingered as I nodded.
In the kitchen, the aroma of fried rice filled the air—my favourite. He had made it with curd on the side, just the way I loved it.
As we sat down at the table, I couldn't help but smile at the effort he had put in.
“Here,” he said, scooping a generous portion onto my plate before serving himself. “I hope you will love it.”
I laughed softly. “You're the best!”
We fed each other bites, the atmosphere light and filled with playful banter. “So, what’s your plan for the next few months?” he asked between mouthfuls.
I took a moment to chew, savouring the flavours. “Well, I’ll be staying with my parents for sometime now until my MD starts.” I replied.
As we continued eating, the conversation flowed from dreams of the future to our favourite memories together.
Just then, I realised that today was the day my NEET PG results were going online. My heart raced as the realisation sank in, and before I could think twice, I jumped up from my chair and grabbed my phone.
“Kya hua?” he asked, concern flickering across his face.
“I need to check my results!” I exclaimed, my fingers fumbling as I navigated to the website. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me, a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
He stood beside me, peering over my shoulder, his presence both reassuring and nerve-wracking.
I turned to him, passing him the phone, “Can you check it for me? Mujhe bahut dar lag raha hai!” I said, swallowing hard.
My heart felt like it was pounding against my ribcage as he refreshed the page, my breath caught in my throat.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, the page loaded, and he saw my results. My heart stopped for a brief second before joy surged through me. “Tell me did I fail?” I asked.
He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the ground as he spun me around in sheer joy. “Fuckkk! Reya you got AIR 70!”
“What? Tell me you're lying?” I pressed, my heart pounding even harder.
“Yes, Sunflower, you got AIR 70! You did it!” he exclaimed, laughing and spinning me in circles.
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “Are you serious?” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as he set me back down.
“Yes! Look!” He handed me the phone, and as I glanced at the screen, reality sank in. My heart soared.
“I got AIR 70!” I echoed, my voice breaking with excitement. Tears of joy streamed down my face as I realised that I could finally pursue my passion for psychiatry.
“This is amazing! I can’t believe it, Vayu!”
He pulled me into a tight embrace, lifting me off my feet once more, and I could feel the warmth of his joy radiating through me. “I’m so proud of you, Sunflower!”
“AIR 70, that means I can finally get my favourite branch—psychiatry!”
His eyes widened with joy, and he pulled me into another tight embrace. “Are you serious?”
I nodded as tears of happiness brimmed in my eyes as the weight of the past months lifted. “This has been my dream for so long. I can’t believe it’s finally happening.”
He stepped back slightly to look into my eyes, his expression serious but warm. “You’ve put in so much hard work, and now it’s all paying off.”
“Chal ab mummy papa ko call kar or bta unhe!” he suggested, his excitement still palpable.
I shook my head, a mischievous smile spreading across my face. “No, let’s surprise them! We can take sweets with us and break the news in person.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Alright, I’m all in for this plan.”
With that, we both got ready, the energy in the air buzzing with anticipation. I quickly changed into a comfortable outfit, still riding the high of my results.
He looked dapper in a casual shirt, his confidence making my heart flutter and we left for my parents’ house, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through me.
As we drove toward her parents' house, the anticipation of sharing her incredible news was palpable in the air.
But beneath my excitement lingered a weight I needed to address. I glanced over at her, the sunlight catching her features, and took a deep breath.
“Reya!” I said, my tone shifting slightly.
“Hmm” she replied, looking at me with those curious eyes.
I hesitated for a moment, unsure how to frame my thoughts.
“I know today is all about celebrating your results, but… I think we should avoid mentioning anything about the war to either of our parents.”
Her brows furrowed slightly, and I rushed to clarify.
“I don’t want them to worry about me.”
Her expression softened, and she nodded slowly. “I completely understand. It’s going to be hard enough for them to see you leave with that news.”
“Exactly,” I said, feeling a bit lighter knowing we were on the same page.
“Let’s focus on your achievement today and make it special for them.”
She smiled at me, that beautiful smile that always made my heart skip a beat.
As we continued driving, I felt a mix of pride and apprehension swell within me. I wanted to shield her parents from the harsh realities ahead, if only for a little while longer.
Today was meant to be filled with joy, and I was determined to ensure it stayed that way for her.
When we arrived at her parents' house, the excitement in the air was almost electric. Her parents greeted us with beaming smiles, and I could see the joy radiating from them when they learned about her remarkable NEET PG results.
It was a moment of pure happiness, and I felt honoured to be part of it.
“Congratulations, Kittu! We are so proud of you, beta!” her mother exclaimed, pulling her into a tight embrace.
“Thank you, Mumma!” she replied, her voice muffled in her mother’s shoulder. I stood back, grinning from ear to ear, watching this beautiful scene unfold.
Her mom quickly whisked us into the kitchen. She prepared my favourite food—her famous pav bhaji.
“Mene special tumhare liye banaya hai, Vayush!” she said, her eyes sparkling with warmth.
“Thank you so much, Maa!” I said, giving her a side hug.
As we sat around the dining table, laughter and joy flowed freely.
The food was delicious, and we savoured every bite, filling the room with warmth and love.
Papa shared anecdotes from his own college days, making us laugh even harder.
After lunch, I felt a sense of belonging wash over me. In that moment, surrounded by her family’s love and support, the weight of the world felt a little lighter.
My gaze shifted to the clock and I realised my flight was scheduled for the night. I gathered my things when Maa approached with a warm smile, holding a neatly wrapped bundle in her hands.
“Vayu these are for Himani ji and Navi!” she said softly, her eyes kind.
I nodded, accepting the thoughtful gifts. “Or mere liye?” I chuckled.
“Tere liye main hoon na!” I heard Reya's voice as she entered.
“Ofcourse! Best gift!” I winked at her.
She helped me to pack my things and once we were done, I turned to her, my heart heavy with the thought of leaving.
As I took her hands in mine, I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, her emotions unravelling at the thought of me leaving—not just for now, but for the war that awaited me after my leave.
She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, but her voice trembled when she spoke. “I hate this… I hate that you have to go.”
I gently wiped a tear from her cheek with my thumb, my own chest tightening with the ache of leaving her behind.
“I know… I wish I didn’t have to.”
Her hands clung to mine as if she feared letting go meant losing me entirely. "You promise you'll come back, right?" Her voice was small, fragile.
“I promise,” I said softly, pulling her closer into my arms, feeling the warmth of her body against mine.
“I'll come back, and will make you mine! Mrs. Kashyap.”
She buried her face in my chest, and I could feel the quiet sobs shaking her shoulders.
I pressed my lips to the top of her head, holding her tightly, as if holding her close could shield her from the fear of what was to come.
"Don’t cry," I whispered, my voice low and steady, though inside, the thought of being apart tore me apart just as much.
"We’ll get through this. Together.”
She pulled back slightly, her tear-filled eyes locking with mine. “Shaadi karni hai mujhe tujhse. Jaldi wapas aana!” she whispered.
“Bilkul!” I said pressing a kiss on her lips. As I held her close, the memory of the previous night lingered in the back of my mind.
I gently pulled back, cupping her face in my hands, brushing away the last of her tears with my thumb.
“Don't forget to take the pills, okay?” I said softly, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze.
Her cheeks flushed slightly, a soft blush rising as she nodded. “I will," she whispered, her voice a mix of shyness and emotion.
As we sat there in the room, the reality of time caught up with us. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down as I gently pulled away from her embrace.
Her eyes lingered on mine, and I couldn’t resist—I leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss, slow and tender, as if I could pour all the words I couldn’t say into that single moment.
When we parted, I rested my forehead against hers for a brief second, our breaths still mingling. “I love you, Sunflower!” I whispered, my voice steady though my heart ached.
She didn’t say anything—she didn’t have to. The way her eyes softened, the way her fingers lingered on mine as I stepped back, said it all.
With a final glance, I stood up and walked through the room. I softly opened the door, ready to leave behind the person who held my heart as I prepared to face the uncertain days ahead.
I paused, turned to face her one last time, and whispered, “No distance can keep me away. I’ll always return to you because I belong with you, and nowhere else.”
"I’ll be here, always, no matter how long it takes," she said, her voice trembling with emotion as she ran into my arms.
I lifted her effortlessly, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. The world around us faded away as I held her tightly, knowing that in this moment, we were each other’s anchor against the uncertainty ahead.
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