"What keeps my heart awake is colorful silence....................."

Their bodies seemed to move of their own accord, drawn together by an invisible force. Vatsal's grip on her wrists tightened slightly, pulling her even closer until their bodies were flush against each other. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing grew more erratic. The proximity was almost unbearable, a delicious torment that heightened every sensation.

Shubhita's hands, once pinned by his hold, now rested against his chest. She could feel the steady thrud of his heartbeat, a tangible reminder of the man she cared for so deeply. Her fingers twitched with the urge to caress his face, to trace the lines of his jaw and run through his hair, but she held back, the unresolved tension between them both a barrier and a catalyst.

Vatsal's face hovered just inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin. He could see the conflict in her eyes, the way she struggled to maintain her composure even as her body betrayed her desires. The urge to close the distance, to capture her lips with his, was almost overpowering, but he hesitated, aware of the fragile line they were treading.

"Shubhita," he murmured again, his voice a low, husky plea. His hands slid down her arms, coming to rest at her waist, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles against the fabric of her kurti. The sensation sent sparks through her, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress the involuntary shiver that ran down her spine.

Their eyes locked once more, a silent exchange of longing and restraint. The air around them seemed to crackle with the intensity of their shared emotions, each heartbeat amplifying the charged atmosphere. Neither could look away, both caught in the magnetic pull that held them in place.

Shubhita's resolve began to waver, her body responding instinctively to the closeness, the warmth, the undeniable chemistry between them. She turned her head slightly, her lips now dangerously close to his. The urge to close the gap, to give in to the desire that pulsed between them, was almost overwhelming.

Shubhita's resolve began to waver, her body responding instinctively to the closeness, the warmth, the undeniable chemistry between them. She turned her head slightly, her lips now dangerously close to his. The urge to close the gap, to give in to the desire that pulsed between them, was almost overwhelming.

But just as their lips were about to meet, a final shred of restraint pulled them back. Vatsal pressed his forehead against hers once more, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding. He knew that crossing that line would change everything, and he wasn't sure if either of them was ready for it.

She sighed slightly, her own breath coming in short, shallow bursts. "Vatsal," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Free me."

With a reluctant sigh, Vatsal pulled back, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment longer before releasing her. The tension between them didn't dissipate, but it was now tempered by a mutual understanding, a shared acknowledgment of the depth of their connection and the need to navigate it carefully.

As they stood there, the weight of their unspoken desires hung in the air, a promise of what could be, tempered by the reality of what needed to be resolved.

Before Vatsal could say anything, Shubhita took a deep breath, her expression hardening. She pushed him away gently but firmly, stepping back to create some physical distance between them. "Food is waiting," she said curtly, her tone still edged with annoyance.

Her words were a clear signal that, despite the tension and the moment of connection they had just shared, she was still hurt and angry. Vatsal watched as she turned away, her back stiff with unresolved emotions. He knew that he had to respect her boundaries, but it pained him to see the distance between them.

Shubhita moved to the kitchen, her movements brisk and efficient. She returned with a plate of food, placing it on the table without a word. Vatsal watched her, his heart heavy feeling varied emotions. He knew he had a lot of work to do to make things right, and it wouldn't be easy.

"Shubhita," he called softly, hoping to reach her through the wall she had put up. "Still annoyed?"

She paused, her back to him, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. For a moment, it seemed like she might turn around and respond, but then she took a deep breath and shook her head slightly. "Just eat, Vatsal," she said quietly, her voice strained.

Vatsal nodded, understanding that pushing her further would only make things worse. He sat down at the table, the plate of food in front of him, but his appetite was gone. The room was filled with a heavy silence, the unspoken words and unresolved tension lingering between them.

Shubhita busied herself in the kitchen, her back to Vatsal, trying to keep her emotions in check. The feel of his touch, the warmth of his breath against her skin, lingered in her mind, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She needed time to process her feelings, to come to terms with the hurt and the tension that had built up between them.

Vatsal sat at the table, pushing the food around his plate without much enthusiasm. He glanced up just in time to see Shubhita serving another plate full of food, covering it with a second plate, and then draping a scarf over her shoulders. Confused, he watched as she opened the main door and stepped out.

Furrowing his brow, Vatsal got up and followed her, curiosity piqued. "Where are you going?" he called out, but she didn't respond, descending the stairs without a glance back. He sighed, frustration bubbling up.

"Why is she going out to have dinner?" he wondered, his internal monologue swinging between irritation and amusement. "I know I messed up, but this is just dramatic. What's next, a dinner date with the neighbourhood stray cat?"

Locking the door behind him, he rushed to catch up with her, his footsteps echoing in the stairwell.

When he reached the ground floor, he saw Shubhita entering Mrs. Garg's apartment. He paused, puzzled, then watched as Shubhita greeted the elderly woman with warmth and affection.

From his spot outside, Vatsal observed the scene unfold. Shubhita handed the covered plate to Mrs. Garg, who smiled gratefully. Then, she carefully adjusted her scarf, partially covering her head to show respect to the elderly man, before approaching Mr. Garg, an old man who was visibly pleased by her presence. Vatsal's heart softened at the sight. She had cooked for them too, ensuring they were cared for.

"Well, there goes my theory of her having a clandestine dinner with a cat," he thought wryly, a smile tugging at his lips. "She's incredible, and I'm an idiot for taking her for granted."

He watched as Shubhita interacted with the old man, her movements gentle and respectful. She treated him with the utmost care, mindful of his traditional values. Vatsal couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for her, mixed with a pang of guilt for how he'd spoken to her earlier.

Noticing Vatsal standing outside the door, Mrs. Garg called out, "Vatsal dear, why are you standing there? Come inside! You can't bear to be without your wife, can you?" She chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Shubhita and Vatsal exchanged an awkward glance, the words "can't bear to be without your wife" hanging heavily between them. Vatsal stepped inside, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. He approached Colonel Garg, who was sitting in his chair with a dignified air.

"Greetings, Dadaji," Vatsal said respectfully, bending down to touch the old man's feet.

Colonel Garg, a man whose presence commanded respect and authority, nodded approvingly. He was a figure who wasn't often seen; he either locked himself away in his room, preferring solitude, or went on long walks to maintain his fitness. His military background was evident in his demeanour and the way he carried himself.

"Ah, Vatsal, my boy," the Colonel said in his deep, authoritative voice. "It's good to see you after so many days. How are things?"

"Good, Dadaji," Vatsal replied, standing straight and feeling the weight of the Colonel's gaze. "Just busy with work."

Colonel Garg nodded, his eyes shifting to Shubhita. "You have a wonderful wife, Vatsal. She takes good care of us."

Vatsal glanced at Shubhita, who was now setting the table with the food she had brought. Her movements were graceful, her head still partially covered with the scarf, a sign of respect for the elderly man. The admiration and warmth in the Colonel's words made Vatsal's chest tighten with a mix of pride and guilt. He just smiled.

Mrs. Garg, with her right hand bandaged from a minor injury, smiled warmly. "She really is wonderful. Today, she cooked for us since I couldn't manage with this hand."

"Come, sit for a while," Mrs. Garg insisted, gesturing to a chair. "You can take her back in a moment."

Vatsal hesitated, feeling the awkwardness of the situation, but Mrs. Garg's insistence left him no choice. He took a seat next to Shubhita, who still avoided his gaze. The tension between them was palpable, but the warm, familial atmosphere of the Gargs' apartment provided a temporary respite from their conflict.

As they exchanged light-hearted conversations, Vatsal couldn't help but feel a deep appreciation for Shubhita's kindness and generosity. She had gone out of her way to ensure the elderly couple was comfortable and well-fed. It was a side of her that he had always admired but had failed to acknowledge.

After a few minutes, Shubhita gently said, "We should go. Our dinner is waiting upstairs."

Vatsal stood up, thanking Mrs. Garg and Colonel Garg for their hospitality. As they made their way back to their apartment, Vatsal walked beside Shubhita in silence, the cool night air calming his thoughts. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. She looked up at him, her expression still guarded but softer than before.

He opened the door to their apartment, his eyes never leaving her. Shubhita could feel his gaze, but she casually ignored it, teasing him more with her indifference. No sooner did he open the door, she entered and was about to rush to the kitchen. But with a sudden hot move, he shut the door closed and pushed her against it, careful enough to keep his other hand behind her head so that she didn't get hurt.

Her internal monologue was a mix of comical and anticipatory. "Great, now what? Is he going to lecture me on mannerisms or something?"

"Will you stop it now?" he asked, his eyes serious.

Like a stubborn kid, she shook her head in a defiant "no."

"May I know why?" he asked, his tone a mix of frustration and genuine curiosity.

This time, she looked at him, her eyes locking with his. The intensity of his gaze made her heart race, and she could feel the walls she had built around herself starting to crack. She stared back, but suddenly, her eyes watered up, and she felt the sting of unshed tears.

The sight confused him. He quickly let go of his hold on her, his expression shifting to one of concern. "Shubhita, what's wrong?"

She wiped the tears quickly, taking that opportunity to slip from under his arm, which had been caging her between him and the door. She managed to get out and run, her feet moving swiftly across the floor as she headed for the sanctuary of the kitchen.

Vatsal stood there, bewildered and frustrated, his heart aching at the sight of her tears. He knew they had a lot to work through, and it was going to take more than a few heartfelt words to mend the rift between them. But he was determined to make things right, no matter how long it took.

"Shubhita," he called softly, his voice carrying a mix of regret and determination. He took a deep breath and followed her into the kitchen, ready to face whatever came next.

~~~

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