Chapter Text
What Abhi and Digvesh shared was a well-kept secret.
A casual fling that stopped being casual.
A stress relief that turned into stress.
A breath of fresh air that slowly turned into suffocation.
What began as a way to disconnect became the one thing they couldn't unplug from.
It was a place to escape,
until it wasn't.
Until it became the most honest part of them—
the part they only showed in shadows.
The part that couldn't be named in daylight.
But when one of them tasted recognition, jealousy took root—
spreading like vines around a heart that had only just learned to feel alive.
Abhi shone like wildfire, bright and untamed.
But maybe fire doesn't last.
Or maybe it was Digvesh who forgot how to look at the light without squinting.
Doubt crept in—
as it does when sadness starts talking louder than love.
Because that's how it begins, doesn't it? A small crack. A single doubt. Human nature poisons the well before even tasting the water. Something extraordinary dissolves, not from lack of love—but from the weight of sadness left unspoken.
We ruin beautiful things simply because we don't know how to hold them when we're hurting.
And so it withered, right before their eyes, piece by piece,
in the spaces where words should've been.
In the silences they didn't know how to fill..
Because,
"Kaun is ghar ki dekhbhaal kare, roz ek cheez toot hi jaati hay."
When they finally stood across from each other—rivals now—
moving on felt impossible.
Because,
"Chahe aane wala sheher kitna bhi pasand ho,
pichhe chhoota ghar bechain kar hi deta hai."
Abhishek couldn't believe it—
how foreign they'd become.
Like strangers wearing the faces of people they used to love.
But more than that,
he couldn't believe he still felt.
Maybe it was the absence of closure—
the kind that echoes louder than goodbye.
Maybe it was the way Digvesh smiled like victory tasted better than honesty.
Like cutting Abhi out was some grand triumph.
Like it didn't cost him anything.
But Abhi had always expected more from himself.
He expected control.
Expected to walk away first.
Expected not to ache.
But he did.
Every time he saw Digvesh pretending it never meant anything.
Tears born from frustration—
they're the kind that choke.
The kind you swallow in public
And hide them shamefully, like crying was a sin, or maybe you're too afraid of being called weak.
And of course, when it breaks—
someone always sees.
Rishabh wasn't supposed to be there.
But he was.
And he said it soft, stunned, like a confession:
"Har haal mein hasne ka hunar tha jinme... woh rone lage hai. Koi baat toh hogi."