Shubman was utterly and completely obsessed with Aditi, and it showed in every little thing he did. Whether it was the way he always kept a hand on her—around her waist, holding her hand, brushing her cheek—or the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

Aditi, for her part, adored the attention, though she often felt like she didn't deserve it. She would joke about it, trying to brush off how much he showered her with affection, but Shubman never let her.

"Stop looking at me like that," she teased one evening as they sat on the couch at her place, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Like what?" he asked, pretending to be confused but clearly enjoying her flustered reaction.

"Like..." She waved her hand vaguely. "Like I'm some goddess or something."

"You are," he said simply, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And you're stuck with me worshiping you, so get used to it."

Aditi groaned, hiding her face in his chest, but her giggle gave her away. "You're too much," she mumbled, though her fingers curled into his shirt, holding him close.

"Not enough," he replied, wrapping his arms around her tighter.

When they were out together, Shubman was just as attentive. He always held her hand, opened doors for her, and made sure she was comfortable, often stealing little kisses when he thought no one was watching. Aditi soaked it all up, though she couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed at times.

"You're so touchy," she teased once, poking his chest as they walked through the park.

"You're one to talk," he shot back with a grin, tugging her closer by the waist.

She laughed, leaning into him as they walked. "Okay, maybe I am. But you started it!"

"Not complaining," he said, looking down at her with that boyish grin that made her heart flutter.

Aditi couldn't help but admire how open he was with his feelings. He didn't hold back when it came to showing her how much he cared, and it made her feel like the most special person in the world. She was always touchy with him too—looping her arm through his, resting her hand on his chest, or brushing her fingers through his hair whenever she got the chance.

One evening, as they were lying on the rooftop of her building, staring up at the stars, Aditi sighed softly.

"What's on your mind?" Shubman asked, turning his head to look at her.

She hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I just... I don't know how I got this lucky. You're so good to me, and I don't know if I deserve it."

"Hey," he said firmly, rolling onto his side to face her. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. "Don't say that. You deserve everything, Aditi. And I'm going to spend every day proving it to you."

Her eyes welled up with tears, but she smiled, leaning into his touch. "You're too sweet."

"And you're too perfect," he countered, leaning down to kiss her softly.

In moments like these, Aditi realized just how much she loved the way Shubman made her feel—like she was the center of his universe. And no matter how much she doubted herself, he never let her forget how much she meant to him.  

The shelter was bustling with life, laughter echoing through the courtyard as the older boys played a game of cricket under the sun. Shubman, as always, was right in the middle of the action, but today, he wasn't exactly at his best. His focus wasn't on the ball or the game—it was on Aditi.

She was sitting on the steps, surrounded by a group of kids. One of the toddlers was in her lap, babbling happily while she tied a ribbon into the little girl's hair. Another child clung to her arm, showing her a drawing they'd just made. Aditi's soft laughter floated over to him, her entire face lighting up as she kissed the toddler's cheek.

Shubman leaned on his bat, completely lost in the sight of her. She looked so natural, so at ease, like she was meant to be in the middle of all this love and chaos. He barely noticed when the ball was bowled in his direction.

"Shubman! Watch out!" one of the boys shouted, but it was too late. The ball smacked him square on the shoulder, making him stumble back.

The older boys burst into laughter, dropping their bats as they doubled over. "You're supposed to hit the ball, not let it hit you, bhaiyya!" one of them teased.

"Yeah, maybe stop staring at didi for two seconds and pay attention!" another chimed in, earning a roar of agreement from the rest.

Aditi, hearing the commotion, looked up just in time to see Shubman rubbing his shoulder, his face sheepish. She immediately handed the toddler to one of the older girls and stood, making her way over to him.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice as she gently took his arm.

"Nothing," he mumbled, though the redness on his shoulder said otherwise.

"Nothing?" She arched an eyebrow, pulling him toward the steps. "Sit. Let me see."

The older boys continued to laugh and tease as Shubman sat down, clearly flustered. "Didi, he was staring at you the whole time! That's why he got hit!"

Aditi glanced at Shubman, her lips twitching with a smile. "Is that true?"

"Maybe," he muttered, his ears turning red.

Shaking her head, she grabbed the small first-aid kit from a nearby shelf and sat beside him. She carefully rolled up his sleeve and began examining the spot where the ball had hit him.

"You need to pay attention, you know," she said softly, dabbing at the area with a cool cloth. "What if it had hit your face?"

"I'd still be staring at you," he said, his voice quiet but full of honesty.

Her hands froze for a moment before she burst out laughing, shaking her head. "You're impossible," she said, though her cheeks were pink.

Shubman grinned, watching her with that same lovestruck expression. "And you're amazing."

"Stop flirting while I'm trying to fix you," she scolded gently, though the smile never left her face.

Once she'd finished, she leaned back slightly, satisfied with her work. "There. You're good as new."

"Not quite," he said, leaning closer.

She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I think a kiss might help," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Aditi rolled her eyes but couldn't stop herself from smiling. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder before looking back up at him. "Happy now?"

"Getting there," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face before leaning in to kiss her properly.

The older boys let out a chorus of groans and laughter from the cricket field. "Get a room!" one of them shouted, making Shubman laugh against her lips.

Aditi pulled back, shaking her head as she tried to stifle her laughter. "You're going to be the death of me, Shubman Gill."

"Good," he said with a grin. "Because you're already my whole life."

Her heart swelled at his words, and for the hundredth time, she realized just how safe, loved, and happy she felt with him.  

Shubman couldn't help it. Every time he was at the shelter, his focus seemed to drift away from the games, the banter, and even his teammates when they tagged along. Instead, it always settled on Aditi.

She had this way of completely capturing his attention without even trying—laughing as she carried a toddler on her hip, sitting cross-legged on the ground as she played board games with the kids, or wrapping an injured child in her arms and soothing their tears.

And every time he got distracted, he paid for it.

"Shubman, incoming!" Ishan called as the cricket ball sailed toward him.

But Shubman didn't move. He was too busy watching Aditi help a group of girls pick out new hair ribbons from her bag. The ball struck him hard in the thigh, making him yelp and stumble.

The kids on the field roared with laughter. "Bhaiyya, not again!" one of the older boys shouted.

Ishan jogged over, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. "Seriously, dude? That's the third time today. What's wrong with you?"

Shubman rubbed his leg, his ears turning red. "I'm fine," he muttered, waving him off.

But Ishan wasn't convinced. He followed Shubman's gaze to where Aditi was sitting, now laughing with the girls as they braided ribbons into each other's hair. Ishan smirked. "Ah, I see. You're not injured—you're in love."

"Shut up," Shubman grumbled, but his flustered expression gave him away.

Later, when Shubman joined Aditi and the kids on the steps, his arm was already starting to bruise from yet another ball that had hit him earlier.

"Let me guess," Aditi said, noticing him wince as he sat down. "You got hit again, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he admitted, trying to downplay it.

She sighed, shaking her head but smiling as she grabbed the first-aid kit. "Honestly, Shubman, at this rate, you're going to need your own personal nurse."

"Why do you think I keep getting injured?" he teased, flashing her a grin. "It's so you'll take care of me."

"That's not how this works," she said, laughing as she dabbed ointment on his arm. "You're supposed to avoid getting hurt, not seek it out."

"I can't help it," he said, his voice soft as he looked at her. "You're kind of distracting."

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed pink. "Focus on the game, Shubman," she said, though her tone was more fond than scolding.

Even his teammates started noticing his endless bruises and scratches whenever they came to practice.

"Gill, what's with all the injuries lately?" his captain asked, eyeing the bandages on his knee and arm.

"Yeah, are you secretly training for kabaddi or something?" another teammate joked.

Ishan, ever the instigator, smirked from the sidelines. "Nah, he's just in love. He spends all his time at the shelter getting hit by cricket balls because he's too busy staring at his girlfriend."

Shubman groaned, throwing a towel at Ishan. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Yet," Ishan quipped, dodging the towel.

But even as the teasing continued, Shubman couldn't bring himself to care. Because every time Aditi fussed over him, patched up his scrapes, or kissed his bruises better, he knew one thing for sure—getting hurt was a small price to pay for the way she made him feel.