---
"Shared Sorrows, Unspoken Love"
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The room smelled of eucalyptus and warm water.
Soft coughs broke the silence every few minutes.
It was late — almost midnight — and a brutal cold wind rattled against the window panes of Rihi’s quarters, but inside... it was a different kind of storm brewing.
A storm of fever, guilt, and aching hearts.
---
In the living room, Mrityunjay, Veer, Ishan, and Shreyas handed over medicines, thermometers, and towels before quietly excusing themselves, sensing the heaviness in the air.
"Call us if you need anything," Veer said, clapping Abhishek's shoulder gently.
Ishan winked at Rihi and whispered, "Don't kill him, okay?"
Rihi shot him a dry glare, barely hiding the worry under her irritation.
Shreyas left behind a box of chocolates — "Emergency," he said, with a soft smile — before they disappeared into the night, leaving the quarters to the four tangled souls inside.
---
The quarters had two bedrooms.
And right now, they were divided.
Rihi and Shubman in one.
Aashna and Abhishek in another.
But the emotions?
The emotions filled every inch of the place, thick and heavy like smoke.
---
Room One: Rihi & Shubman
The room was dimly lit with a single lamp.
Shubman lay under the thick blanket, his forehead glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed red with fever.
Rihi sat beside him on the bed, sniffling softly from her own cold, one hand holding a damp cloth against his burning forehead.
"You absolute idiot," she muttered, dabbing carefully. "You think jumping into a glacier is love? It's stupidity."
Shubman managed a weak smile, eyes fluttering open. "It worked, didn't it? You're taking care of me..."
Rihi scowled, even as her heart did a full somersault.
"You're lucky you're not dead," she snapped, adjusting the cold press gently. "Next time you even think about doing something this dumb, I'll personally drown you."
He chuckled, which quickly turned into a hacking cough.
"Serves you right," Rihi muttered, tucking the blanket tighter around him.
Her own body shivered, and she wiped her nose quickly before he could notice — but Shubman saw it.
His fingers fumbled weakly until they found her wrist.
"You're sick too..." he murmured, guilt weighing down every word.
"I'm fine," she lied, voice cracking.
"No, you're not," he said stubbornly, squeezing her wrist lightly. "Why are you taking care of me then?"
She froze, the words on her tongue heavy and sharp — because I still love you, idiot — but she swallowed them down.
Instead, she said gruffly, "Because someone has to make sure you don't kill yourself before I get my revenge."
Shubman smiled faintly, eyes closing, hand still clutching hers like a lifeline.
---
Room Two: Aashna & Abhishek
Across the hallway, the scene was almost identical.
Abhishek lay sprawled on the bed, shivering uncontrollably despite the heavy blankets.
Aashna sat cross-legged beside him, her cheeks pink with fever, one hand pressing a cold cloth against his forehead.
"You unbelievable moron," she hissed under her breath, tears pricking her eyes despite the anger.
"Freezing water... pneumonia... kya soch rahe the?!"
Abhishek cracked one eye open, his voice barely a whisper.
"Thinking... about you."
The sheer sincerity in his broken voice made her throat tighten painfully.
"You think a stunt like that will erase everything?" she whispered, wringing the cloth again in cold water.
"No," he rasped. "But I'd rather freeze to death... than live another day without you."
Aashna's hands trembled.
Her chest hurt from the love she was trying so hard to hide.
"You'll live," she muttered, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. "So that you can suffer."
He chuckled weakly, coughing into his blanket.
Aashna scowled, pulling the blanket up to his chin like he was a toddler.
Then she tugged the second half of the heavy blanket over her own freezing legs, because the room was freezing and her bones ached — but she didn’t let herself fall asleep.
She stayed awake, guarding him like he was the most precious thing she'd ever hated loving.
---
The Long Night
Hours dragged.
The boys drifted in and out of fevered sleep.
The girls fought their own sick, exhausted bodies just to keep cold compresses going, keep the medicine on schedule, keep the boys breathing steadily.
Sometimes they'd switch the cloths robotically.
Sometimes they'd just sit there, holding onto the boys' hands, silently daring themselves not to cry.
Sometimes they'd whisper insults under their breath — idiots, jerks, heartbreakers — but their hands never stopped moving.
Their touch never faltered.
Their love, unspoken but screaming in every heartbeat, never faded.
---
Somewhere Around 3 AM
Shubman stirred, opening glassy eyes.
"Rihi...?"
"I'm here," she whispered, squeezing his hand.
He smiled, delirious with fever. "Beautiful... even when you're mad at me..."
Rihi rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed.
In the next room, Abhishek shifted too.
"Aashna..." he mumbled.
She leaned closer instinctively. "I'm here."
His hand brushed her cheek clumsily, leaving a damp streak.
"Mine... always mine," he whispered feverishly before falling back asleep.
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 💙