The lights of Mumbai glittered far below Shubman’s balcony as the two of them sat side by side, takeaway boxes half-open and mostly ignored. The city felt quieter tonight, or maybe it was the way Shubman kept looking at her — like he was building up to something.
Saisha leaned back, sipping the last of her iced coffee.
“You’ve been awfully quiet since dessert. Are you replaying today’s practice in your head again?”
“No. I’m thinking about something bigger.”
She raised a brow.
“Bigger than cricket? Is that even allowed?”
He smiled, eyes steady.
“I want our families to meet.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Like properly. Not just random encounters or awkward video calls. A dinner. Here. With both sides.”
Saisha sat up straighter, pulse rising a little.
“Shubman, are you sure? I mean... it’s not Diwali. And things are still fresh. They just barely survived our Instagram post.”
“Exactly. That’s why I want to do this,” he said, placing his hand over hers.
“I want to set the tone. Not for the media. For us.”
Her expression softened, but she still looked overwhelmed.
“This isn’t just dinner. It’s like… introducing galaxies. Our moms in the same room? My brother and your sister? What if it’s too soon?”
“It’s not about timing,” he said gently.
“It’s about respect. About saying: ‘This matters enough to share a table.’ You don’t need to prove anything to anyone — but I want them to see us the way we see us.”
Saisha was quiet for a long moment, watching his face — open, sincere, maybe a little nervous underneath the confidence. He really meant it.
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious baby. We’ll keep it small. Casual. Simple food, warm lights, no pressure.”
“You think they’ll get along?”
He grinned.
“I think they’ll bond over embarrassing stories about us. And gulab jamun.”
Saisha laughed softly, her nerves settling into something sweeter — anticipation.
“Okay,” she said finally. “Let’s do it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But if your mom and mine start plotting wedding venues, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair.”
They clinked their wine glasses together, sealing the plan.
---
Later that night, as Shubman pulled a blanket around them on the couch, Saisha whispered,
“You’re really all in, aren’t you?”
He kissed her forehead.
“You’re the only thing I want to be ‘all in’ for.”
YOU ARE READING
Blueprints and Boundaries
FanfictionA Shubman Gill fanfiction Cricket was more than a sport in India. It was religion, rhythm, routine. It echoed through living rooms, spilled out of tea stalls, and stopped traffic when a six soared over the boundary. Shubman Gill was its golden boy...
