"Beyond The Boundary "

chapter 38

Aashna sat frozen for a long time, tears running down her face silently.

Neither of the girls said a word.

But both of them...
In their heart of hearts...
Had already forgiven.

They just hadn't told them yet.

Because some wounds needed a little more time.

Some love needed a little more penance.

---

Morning light crept through the frost-glazed windows.

The fevers had broken.

The boys were breathing easier.

The girls were half-asleep, curled beside them under the shared blankets, drained but stubbornly holding on.

Maybe forgiveness hadn't been spoken yet.

But love?

Love had never left.

And somehow, against all odds, the four broken pieces were slowly, painfully stitching themselves back together — in cold nights, shared silences, and small, stubborn acts of care.

"The Morning After the Storm"

The sun slipped shyly into the room, casting pale gold patterns across the tangled bedsheets.

The heater buzzed softly in the corner, fighting against the biting Drass cold. But inside the two bedrooms... warmth was born not from machines, but from the quiet collision of two wounded hearts finding their way back to each other.

---

Room One: Rihi & Shubman

Shubman stirred first, the haze of fever finally lifting slightly from his mind.

His body still ached, but the sharp burning was gone — replaced by a heavy warmth pressed tightly against him.

He blinked blearily, vision adjusting to the soft light.

And there she was.

Rihi.

Curled against his chest like a kitten, one arm thrown around his waist, her face buried into the crook of his neck.

He could feel her shallow, stuffy breaths against his skin.
Her cold fingers clutching the fabric of his sweatshirt so tightly it almost hurt.

As if even in sleep...
Even through fever and stubborn anger...
She was afraid he would vanish if she let go.

A lump formed in his throat.

Carefully, almost reverently, Shubman lifted his hand and tucked a strand of her messy hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek, feeling the slight heat of her lingering cold.

"I'm so sorry, angel," he whispered into her hair, voice cracking. "I'm so sorry I ever made you doubt yourself... made you feel less than the most perfect thing in my world."

She stirred slightly but didn't wake — just clutched him even tighter, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

And right then, Shubman knew:

Even if she hadn't said it yet...
Even if she hadn't fully forgiven him with words...
Her heart still remembered him.

And maybe, just maybe, she still loved him too.

---

Room Two: Aashna & Abhishek

Across the hall, it was the same story, a different melody.

Abhishek woke to the sensation of small, shivering hands gripping his T-shirt.
Of soft sniffles pressed against his collarbone.
Of a fragile weight curled entirely into his body like she wanted to disappear inside him.

Aashna.

His fierce, fearless, unstoppable Aashna...
Now trembling in her sleep, holding onto him as if he was the only anchor left in a sinking world.

Tears welled in Abhishek's eyes before he could stop them.

Eight years older.
Supposed to be wiser.
Supposed to protect her.

And all he had done was shatter her.

He tightened his arms around her instinctively, pulling her impossibly closer, tucking her head under his chin.

"I'm here, jaan," he whispered hoarsely into her hair. "I'm not going anywhere again. Never."

Aashna whimpered softly, clutching his T-shirt harder, her legs tangling with his under the shared blanket.

Even in her sleep...
Even with the fever and exhaustion...
Her heart still chose him.

She just needed more time.

And Abhishek?
He would wait forever if he had to.

---

The Gentle Morning

For a long time, neither room moved.

Only the soft breathing of broken souls mending themselves piece by piece.

Only the creak of bedsheets as aching bodies sought each other even in unconsciousness.

It wasn't forgiveness.

Not yet.

But it was hope.

Hope, wrapped in fever and cold presses and stubborn snuggles that refused to let go.

---

Later, when they finally woke properly — groggy, coughing, blinking at each other across shared pillows — there would still be awkwardness.

Still things unsaid.

Still wounds healing.

But for now...

For this moment...

They were just two girls, scared of losing their boys.
And two boys, terrified of ever hurting them again.
___________________________________________

Here is the next part.
Hope you'll like it .

Guys I need comments .OKAY ?
Atleast  5 comments ..

And who saw shubi play without helmet yeatserday ..God he looked just gorgeous..✨️

Until next take care 💙