21. Things Falling Back.

HE WAS THE first person I knew I would see when I woke up.

And honestly, I wasn't disappointed. Peeling my eyelids seemed to take a tremendous effort, but all my other senses seemed to activate and adjust to my surroundings automatically. I registered the faint smell of antiseptic, the slow but steady beep of the monitor and the heat of his skin against mine.

He had his chin propped in the palm of his other hand, but fatigue had clearly gotten the better of him and he looked like he was nodding off. I almost smiled at the sight of that, it had been years since I had seen him like that. Both my lips and throat were dry so I swallowed painfully.

"Papa," I tried to call him, but all that came out was a breathy rasp that was so quiet I barely heard myself. Every muscle in my body seemed taut and heavy, but I managed a little pressure on his fingers , a fleeting squeeze just to let him know that I was awake.

It was a good enough signal. A split second later, he was jolting up in his seat, spinning around to look at me. "Nushki?"

The look on his face was a sweet mix of disbelief and relief, but I didn't miss the dark, fragile bruises of exhaustion beneath his eyes, like he hadn't properly slept in all the time I'd been unconscious. Maybe he hadn't.

"I was so scared," all his equanimous composure had disintegrated into something frantic and primal. He didn't waste a moment reaching for the glass of water on the bedside table, settling down beside me on the bed.

I drank from it almost greedily when he lifted the straw to my lips, like I had been wandering in a dry desert for years only to find some form of reprieve. When I was done, he set the glass down, he threaded his fingers through my hair.

"I'll get your mom and dad --"

"No," I tightened my grip on his fingers and he paused. "Papa, stay." He swallowed and glanced away, looking this close to falling apart, and I could see it coming from a mile away.

"It's all my fault," he began, a gentle sniffle following it. "I shouldn't have come back in first place."

"It's not your fault."

He shook his head. "It is. I fucked up and messed up with our lives. I wasn't there when you were growing up -- your teenage years, everything. Everything would've been different today."

"Well, you surely aren't missing the teenage angst," I tried to laugh, sitting up on my back but dad pulled me in gently.

"Are you talking about him?" he asked with a laugh but it was almost hollow and empty. I furrowed my eyebrows together, questioningly so he dropped the laugh the next moment and continued. "Virat?"

I nodded, managing to do so despite the throbbing pain throughout my entire body. "Our story is full of teenage angst. So you are certainly not missing much of that." I frowned.

"He loves you," he told me, and I nodded because I knew he did. Probably more than I had estimated but that wasn't something I would ever complain of. "He wanted us to reconcile which was why he texted you to come in the docks. And he was talking to me about you during your engagement night, before he left to find you and found you, if I'm not wrong?"

I gave him a nod, smilingly.

"I guess I should be leaving now. Your mum and dad will be so relieved to see you. They haven't eaten anything since they came here."

"Come back, papa? We've lots of years to catch upon."

He simply nodded, before leaning closer to graze his lips on my forehead for a kiss. "I will, Nushki. We've lots of new memories to create and keep."

I just threw him a kiss, this time not fighting the smile that lingered on my lips.

•••

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" 

Mom glowered, not bothering that I was on a hospital bed with three stitches done on my head. "You crossed the speed limit! I'm never letting you drive again, young lady."

"Let her breathe, Ahana." Dad chuckled, running his hand on her back to calm her down. Mom visibly relaxed because of the gesture, but nevertheless still had a frown on her face.

"We're never going to let her go without a driver again, and that's final." Mom told me, before letting out a huge sigh. "Did you guys talk?" she asked, the atmosphere getting a little denser than the usual.

I knew she was talking about dad so I gave her a nod. "Yeah, mom. We're going to be fine."

"And Virat?" she asked, raising her brows. 

That was when dad interjected, "The poor guy still blames himself for the accident. He has been hiding and crying in the washroom ever since he's come,"

"What?" I blanched. "He is a total nutcase. Tell him to come inside." I murmured, sinking deeper inside the comforter.

"For that we've to first drag him out of the loo," dad laughed while mom nudged him in the stomach, mumbling something along the lines of stop making fun of him.

I sighed because these two were never going to stop with their fights.

•••

"YOU LOOK LIKE SHIT."

I tried to smile when he entered but he made it impossible for me with those red eyes and puffy nose which I could see even though he stood at quite a distance. He must be crying for an awfully long amount of time, and the thought itself made me feel guilty. I was sitting right now, leaning forward so that I could tone down the numbness my back was suffering from.

Virat tried to laugh but failed miserably. "Me? You should see yourself, love."

I couldn't control myself from teasing him this time. "Telling someone who's just had a near-death experience that she looks like shit -- that's definitely one way to make her feel better about herself."

He didn't even quirk a smile this time. If anything, the expression on his face darkened, and I saw the apology practically burning in his brown eyes. "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

I just laughed sardonically making him shoot me a puzzled look. "That's what you and dad have been saying ever since I've met you two."

"Who? Mr. Sharma?"

"No, papa."

"You--"

"Yes," I gave him a huge smile. "We've reconciled like you wanted, didn't you? Just that it was complemented with a big shitty drama, a car crash and a couple of stitches but you finally got your way, Mr. Kohli."

He looked at me apologetically, "I'm so sorry, Anushka."

"Sorry won't do this time. You've to dance this time, right here."

Virat shot me a pointed look, "Are you serious?"

"Bloody serious! I'm super bored, and if you don't begin in three, I'm gonna come there and teach you that, no matter if it hurts my back or anything." That was the drip point because Virat began dancing, miserably if I might add but it was simultaneously entertaining because of the exasperated expressions his face held which were absolutely goofy.

"You know you were right when you told me you were responsible for the accident," I told him, making him freeze. "Because I had to tell you something, and I couldn't keep the track of the speed because of that."

He sauntered closer to me. "And what was it, Anushka?"

"Every time I've tried to stay away from you, I've failed miserably." I began, before dragging in a deep breath. This moment was always like I'd imagined it to be.

And god, I'd imagined it so many time that now it was finally happening, it took me by surprise, and I could barely breathe.

"Are you okay?" Virat queried, his hands touching mine. I realized his digits were cold.

Cold hands, warm heart. Mom always told me, and I swear I'd never believed in that so much before.

He had a warm heart. It had warmed my frigid one as well.

I smiled, "yeah. Just a little peachy." Virat gave me a small smile, running a hand through his hair absentmindedly. "I can never stop myself from wanting you, Virat. You're such a mess, and you pulled me into that, Kohli. You just can't do that ever single time."

"Anushka, look. I'm sorry about everything--"

So innocent.

"-- you're one huge mess, Virat Kohli."

"--"

"--but you're my mess and I love you." I smiled, sauntering closer towards him so that I've could wrap my my arms around him. My head rested against his beating heart.

Warm heart, I could confirm.

"Okay, what? What about Advay?" I heard him ask.

I frowned. "So you want me to say this to Advay? Alright --" 

He stopped me, cupping my cheeks and gently placing his lips on mine, whispering the words against my lips. "I love you too, idiot."

And it was that moment when I realised there are 7 billion people in this world.

Some are struggling because of their pasts. Some are letting go off their pasts. Some are breaking hearts. Some are getting their hearts broken. Their axes are shifting from its origin.

7 billion lost souls. 

And all it takes is one.

To bring them back home. To make them found. To bring back their axes to its origin.

And to be their endgame.