∞ - 1 | falling stars

" falling stars are the most selfless stars. they fall to make others' wish come true . . . "

03

WITH VIRAT I WAS HOME, and everywhere else—just a visitor.

So when he was out, I would spend my time writing or wondering about the list of the things I would want to do with him. I know it sounds so cliche, writing a bucket list before the ticking bomb attached to you explodes.

But unlike others, my list wasn't long. I think, I was satisfied by my life—I had done abseiling, pretended like a werewolf on a full moon night, get drunk and talked shit, kissed the person I truly loved, and so much more. I was content with the way my life was shaping with the occassional bumps and crevices.

What had ignited a year ago when Virat and I had fallen in love, continues to burn. Virat's love was like a circle of light for me, to this destructive supernova. I didn't want him to be the collateral damage. I wanted him to move on, and fall in love with someone else.

Everything in this world was selfish. Love was selfish too but in a selfless manner. You can do anything to make the person smile over and over again.

Virat always wants to make me smile. His love for me was a testament with no ends, an aria with the most melodious voice, a story with an ending which wasn't happy but not sad either. Whatever we had was more real than time, more real than death, more real than any other world.

Everyone romanticised the sun and the moon, but Virat and my story resembled those of the the moon and the stars. I wasn't the only one in Virat's life. 

At least, I hoped so.

I hear a shuffle on the bed, and I snap my gaze towards the direction of the source of the noise, coming out of the spiral of my thoughts. I see Virat holding a crumpled paper in his hands, and I begin to fear it's the letter I had written for him at the hospital before my tumour ressection. 

"No Virat! You can't open that," I snap at him, knee-walking to the other side of the bed. Virat trots backwards, hiding the paper behind his back. "You can't read that now. It's a future resource, Virat."

"You look so sexy when you're angry," he speaks with a smile on his face, as he stares at me. My mouth opens widely agape, staring at him angrily and slightly huffing.

"You're being ridiculous, and give me back my letter. I've to hide it from you now." I tell him gruffly, trying to snatch it from his hands but he beats me to it in a dodgy manner. 

To distract Virat, I bite his nose, and he whimpers in pain. "You're such a gundi. Ruk, tere papa se complain karta hu main," he turned his face to his other side, slightly pouting. He looked adorable. "What did I do yaar? Fell in love with this gundi, huh." His hands are wringed together, a painful looking expression scrawled across his face which gently sloped with his features.

"God, you're such a drama queen." I laugh, shaking my head. "But my drama queen. Now, give me back my letter. Please." I bat my eyelashes, trying to appease him but in vain.

Virat jumps in three-sixty-degree so that his back faces me, opening the piece of paper. "Tara's Bucket List," he begins to read, and I facepalm. "Oh, this isn't the letter."

I jump on him to get back my list because it was much more personal than the letter. "Oh my God! Don't read it, otherwise I'm gonna kill you, bare-handed." I warn him but in vain.

I circle around him, finally facing him. He has a wild and playful smile on his face as he continues reading, "Wish number one. Get a tattoo. Oh, that's so... easy!"

My hands are all over him, trying to get back the letter but Virat dodges me with one swift motion which leaves me distraught. "Please don't read it, Virat—"

"—wish number two. Go on a long road-trip."

My breaths are sporadic as his gaze falls on the third wish. "Oh my God. Please mat padho aage ka—"

"—wish number three," he smirks, just a lopsided pout, narrowing of eyes and tilting of head, "have sex under the stars. Uhm. This one's... interesting."

"I hate you," I huff, sinking on the bed exhaustedly, and muttering wild expletives under my breath profusely. "I hate you so fucking much!"

"You won't be saying that tonight." A deep throated chuckle escapes past his lips, filled with amusement.

I look at him, thoroughly confused. "Matlab?"

Virat passes me a gentle smile, "I'll be your genie today, and fulfill all your three wishes."

I roll my eyes, "No! I know they're plainly stupid." I tell him, shaking my head violently.

"No," he shakes his head. "When it comes to you nothing is stupid, and nothing is plain ever. Now come on, get ready! We've a lot of work to do: tattoo, roadtrip and sex." The corner of his mouth tugs upwards.

My face reddens as I blush furiously, "Virat! Just shut up!"

02

WHEN WE ARE AT THE TATTOO SHOP, my legs begin to wobble because of the nervousness. Who can say that a girl who had gone through something as dreadful as tumour ressection would be scared of a fucking needle?! 

"It's just a needle, Tara. Just a point-four-zero milimetre long needle you're being scared of." Virat rolls his eyes at me. I look at him, his eyes first, and then my eyes rake on all the tattoos on his body which glistened magneficiently under the white fitting t-shirt he wore. Oh God, so smoking hot they were.

"Virat, the narrower the needles are, the more painful they are. It's a basic scientific concept of pressure, force and area—"

"—you've gone through much worse conditions when you were in the OT last year. Now shut up, and go for it."

"I was under anasthesia during the operation, Virat. I need it here too." I mumble, stepping backwards—away from the tattoo shop. It was the same tattoo shop from where Virat had got all his tattoos. Apparently, the guy who made them was his good friend. 

"Isn't my love an anaesthesia for you? Doesn't it make you forget all the pain you're going through?"

I don't know how to answer. His love was a painful irony. He made me think about the what ifs when I die, no one else ever did that. But his love also made me forget my pain. "Anesthesia makes me numb, Virat. But you don't. You make me feel," Virat smiles at my reply. "Okay, I just want you to hold my hand. It won't numb down the pain, but it would make me brave enough to face the nee— no, zero-point-four milimetres long needle." I laugh.

"Okay," he laughs, before his face dissolves into a heart-melting smile. "I'll always hold your hand. Even if they're sweaty, or you're angry. No matter what."

"Wow, you're the one with the most sweatiest hand ever."

"You love me anyway," he sticks his tongue out. "What do you want in your tattoo?"

"An infinity?" 

"That's so cliche, Tara." Virat disapproves making me sad.

"I don't know but somewhere the symbol of infinity always makes my heart swell. Two heavily distorted zeroes coming together and merging into something which is much greater than the distance between two galaxies. It's so fascinating because it's you, Virat. You're my infinity," I tell him, my eyes crinkling as I smile. 

"Okay. As you wish," he smiles in return, his eyes snapping in the direction of the tattoo artist. The tattoo artist acknowledges him with a smile.

"So where do you want the tattoo?" he queries, looking at me.

"On my ring finger?" I ask him, slightly unsure.

"That hurts a lot, Tara. You're a first timer." Virat interjects, shaking his head in disapproval.

I nudge him, "Come on. I've you with me. You make me strong enough to face a sword. Forget about needles, they're so small."

"God, you're so stubborn. Fine." he gives in easily. The tattoo artist motions me to sit on the comfortable arm chair beside which the tattoo-making machine (or whatever it is called) was. I sit there, looking at Virat. 

My heart sinks when the artist brings the needle near my finger, and I don't even realize when a drop of tear spills off my eye involuntarily.

"Just... relax, Tara. It's just a tattoo, okay? I'm there with you." I give him a doubtful nod, and close my eyes. My hand grasps Virat's, who stood right beside me, clutching it hard. I cling to him as though he was the one making me forget the pain as the needle pierced my skin. At the first section, the pain was unbearable and susceptible—so much that I screwed my eyes shut—but after a little while, I become more adaptive to it. 

After the tattoo artist finishes making the infinity, I stare at it adoringly. "This is you, Virat." I tell Virat, showing him the tattoo. He kisses the tattoo, the crimson of my blood smearing his lips. "This symbolises how you've given my little infinity within the numbered days. I'm forever grateful to you."

"I'll get a tattoo too. But it's going to be a surprise, okay? Can you sit there for a while. Try the ice-pack on your finger till then. It will lessen the pain."

"Fine, but don't you need me while you're getting one done?" I ask, and he just smiles at me.

"Even your eyes and smile is enough for me, Tara. Just don't leave, and be here. That's more than enough to make me strong."

"Okay." I smile at him, perambulating across the floor to sit on the chair placed diagonally opposite to the tattoo making corner. I stare at Virat, who whispers something in the ears of the artist. When he begins making the tattoo, I see Virat just staring at me intently, his words curling upwards into the biggest smile I'd ever witnessed. It was as if he was romanticizing the pain he was going through. His tattoo was being made at the same spot as mine, and it made my stomach agonize in pain because I knew that it must be hurting him like bitch.

Thankfully, the tattoo wasn't as complicated like his previous ones. It seemed simple. I trudge my way towards him, and my eyes moisten looking at his tattoo.

A four-cornered star. It was so simple yet beautiful.

"You're my star, Tara." he tells me, engulfing me in his arms. He was so warm, I immediately found myself melting into him.

I softly whipser in his ears, "You deserve the entire universe, and I'm just a star, Virat."

"I don't want the entire universe, Tara. I just want you."

I swear I couldn't be more in love with this guy.

01

VIRAT'S HAIR ARE SO SOFT.

Staring at him makes me think of every small thing in a different way. Like the wind wasn't blowing because of pressure variations, but it was blowing because they were destined to make me understand that Virat's hands are the warmest. Spending time with him was endlessly, implausibly fascinating.

It's just me and him driving away from the city. The windows are down, and the covertible is in the open-air mode. The cold air feels amazing against the skin, and our songs were playing in the music system. 

Virat's legs slowly move towards mine until they're dangling together. His touch was so soft against my skin. I wished the drive could never end. "Where are we driving, Virat?"

He looks at me, his eyes brighter than the stars. "It's a surprise." he murmurs softly, throwing me a wink. I cross my arms, sulking on the seat. 

After half a mile, Virat stops the car because he was tired. I offer him to drive but he tells me he would be recharged in five minutes. I agree to it, though unsure because he reasoned he was used to it because of the amount of time he spent playing cricket.

And the good thing was, he was promoted to the position of vice-captain.

I take out the cannister of hot chocolate I had brought along, and pour some of it in the glass for him and me. When I take in the first sip of the hot chocolate, I let out a romantic sigh. So does Virat.

"This tastes so good. I could cheat on every Sunday for this. It's so warm, Tara. Just like you." he tells me, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

I roll my eyes at him, although his words made me feel flattered. "Shut up, and drink." I swipe my fingers across his nose roughly.

Let's just say I was obsessed with his nose.

Virat groans loudly. "Gundi."

"Pagal." I retort playfully.

"Gundi."

"Pagal."

"Gundi—" my lips cut him off, as I attack him with a kiss. He leans down, kissing me back—mouth lingering on mine, teeth grazing my lower lip. The kiss was fervent, it made me shiver. I don't know who's breathing for who when his hands cup my cheeks, deepening the kiss, and my hands curl through his hair involuntarily. Every synapse in my brain shorts out.

I squelch a moan when he pins me against the car, hands now going down my waist. Finally he lets go off, heavily breathing. "I wish I could do this all the time." I tell him, smiling shyly.

"Me too, all the time," Virat replies, giving me a small peck on the lips. "But right now, we've to go. I've a surprise waiting out for you."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah." I mocked wistfully, climbing in the backside of the car this time. Virat begins driving again, not questioning me why I wasn't sitting on the seat beside him. He knew why.

As he drives at the fractional speed of light, I stand up, holding my arms in the air. "Tara," Virat says aloud, slowing down a little. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, Virat." I assure him, letting the wind rush over my face. I start crying and smiling at the same time. Virat loves me so much. My dad loves me so much. My mom loved me so much.

And I cry thinking about how much I want them to be happy even after I die. But then, I let my worry dissolve because with Virat I was really home. And it was safe for us and the people we let in. It was our world. His love was all I needed to tide through any battle.

Because in every moment with him, I felt infinite.

00

LAYING ON VIRAT'S CHEST WAS THE BEST FEELING.

Arms wrapped together, Virat and I were just being us. Virat had drove us to this beautiful place outside the city with a beautiful lake-view and a tent at around fifty feet away from it. The tent was enclosed from all sides except from the top, letting us admire the warm shapes that the star made against the backdrop of the blackness of the night.

"This is so beautiful." I tell him, my eyes riveting to his. The brightness of the star mirrors in his dilated orbs. 

"So beautiful," he murmurs, looking at me.

"You should stop watching sappy romances big time, Mr. Kohli." I chuckle lightly.

"You should stop playing a spoil-sport big time, Miss. Dobriyal."

I notice how deliberately he was avoiding, watching the stars. I realize it has been going on since so long. Virat would admire stars verbally but it was always just for the sake of it. Like it was a certain obligation. "Why aren't you looking at the stars, Virat?" I ask him, narrowing my eyes.

"What? It's not my fault that you're so beautiful."

"You think I don't observe? You've started growing this animosity towards stars, Virat. I have seen you. What's wrong boo?" I ask him, digging my face into his shoulder.

"I don't know, Tara. It's always like stars falls from the sky, one by one. Then it seeps into your blood, rushes through your veins, and becomes every part of you. But after loving it for so long, you've to give it back to the sky. I can't deal with more losses. I've already lost dad and Shaurya. And now, I can't afford to lose you."

"Virat," I softly whisper. I don't know when tears begin to rain in torrent off my eyes. "Just remember this. What's yours is always yours. Whether it's with you, in your arms," I add, squishing him in my arms, "or it's up in the sky. I'll forever be yours."

"Smash me please because I'm helplessly in love with you, Tara Dobriyal." Virat whispers.

His hands begin to explore restlessly. The kiss becomes more intense as his hands travel to the hem of the top I was wearing, trying to get it off. But with the way we were tangled under the blanket, it's so difficult so he gave up, making me sit up. His hands then grip again on the cotton, removing it efficiently this time. His body rocks against mine, as I unbutton his shirt, parting it away smoothly. 

"Virat," I softly moan, gifting us a gasp of breath.

Once again, Virat chambers me into the blanket, his mouth meeting mine. The kiss made me feverish, setting my insides on fire. His mouth slowly travels down my neck to my clavicle, leaving a soft trail kisses all over. 

After that everything was in a haze, the sound of the moans, the bucking of hips, arching towards each other. Everything was how I had expected it to be: messy, fire, tornado, storms, stars. Feeling every entity of nature as we came closer and closer under the stars. The stars never tasted so good, I realize as the euphoric feeling of being so close to Virat washed over me—consuming me by whole.

I just wished the time could down a little more, letting us fall in love a little more—a hell lot more—and let us forget that the rest of the universe existed.

When the time freezes, I hear Virat's faint whisper against my ears. "I promise you, I'll be yours in this life. In every life. All my prayers, all my hopes, all my wishes are yours Tara. Every heartbeat, every breath, every whisper. It's all yours." 

I just pass him a smile, "Even my death is yours, Virat. Even my death."  

And I knew if the eternal, endless kind of love existed, I was sure it was just like ours. A love which was a lot like moon and stars.

Sequel » A Lot Like Love