Boundaries Of The Heart ??

The night outside the hotel hums quietly — streetlights flickering, the city resting after the storm of the match.
Inside, the air in Vanya’s room still holds the warmth of everything that happened.

Her tears have dried. Her heartbeat is calmer now, steady against his chest.
Shubman’s fingers trace slow, gentle patterns on her back. Neither of them speaks — they don’t need to.
For the first time in weeks, silence feels safe.

He pulls back just enough to look at her face. Her cheeks are pink, eyes soft with leftover tears.
“Feeling better?” he asks softly.

She nods, a shy smile forming. “Hmm.”

He smiles too, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good. Because now you’re stuck with me.”

She laughs quietly. “I think I can manage that.”

They share another moment — a soft, tender one.
Then he stands up reluctantly. “You should rest, Vanu. Big day tomorrow.”

She pouts a little, “You’re leaving already?”

He chuckles. “If I stay, I’ll never leave.”
Her eyes widen slightly at the tease, and he smirks at her expression.

“Good night,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Her voice trembles just a bit as she whispers back, “Good night, Maan.”

He smiles at that name — the one only she says — and leaves the room, closing the door gently behind him.

---

Jasleen’s POV

In her hotel room, Jasleen lips curl into a slow smirk.

She had seen it — the way Vanya ran from the stadium earlier, the way Shubman chased after her like some desperate lover.
Exactly what she wanted.

When she hugged him that evening, she had already spotted Vanya walking towards them from a distance.
It wasn’t a coincidence.

She had waited, timed it perfectly — the tears, the “we’re together again,” the fake guilt.
All of it was deliberate.

Now, remembering the flash of shock on Vanya’s face, Jasleen’s smirk deepens.

“Worked like a charm,” she whispers to herself.

But then she frowns, replaying the moment she saw Shubman follow Vanya out of the corridor.
Her jaw tightens.
“He still went after her…”

The anger rises again — quiet but sharp.

She picks up her phone from the side table, scrolling through her old messages with Shubman.
Once, you ignored me for that girl. Now you’ll know what that feels like.

Her reflection in the glass looks colder now, darker.

“This was just the beginning,” she mutters, voice low and venomous. “You took everything from me, Shubman. Now it’s my turn.”

She scrolls to the picture she took earlier — the one where her arms are around him, his expression half-hidden — and smiles wickedly.
“Let’s see what happens when this little memory goes public.”

She keeps her phone down and walks to the balcony, the night wind brushing her hair.
“Game on,” she whispers.

---

Next Morning

Soft sunlight filters through the curtains.
Vanya stirs awake, the warmth of the morning wrapping around her like a quiet hug.