For- DarshikaSilotiya4

Dr. Darshika Singh fidgeted with the pen, tapping out a nervous rhythm on the clipboard. Today was the day for Abhishek Sharma's weekly checkup, and the butterflies in her stomach had morphed into a full-blown aviary. Unlike Dr. Mehta, the head physician who handled the veterans, Darshika, the enthusiastic but sometimes clumsy assistant, dealt with the rising stars. Today's star was her personal supernova, the dazzling Shubman Gill, who was finishing his checkup with a mischievous grin.

"Alright, Shubman," Darshika finished recording his vitals, her voice betraying a forced cheer. "Clean bill of health as always. Just the usual pre-practice stretches, yeah?"

Shubman winked, his amusement barely contained. "Anything to keep you happy, Doc." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Speaking of happy, it's high time Darshika spoke up about your feelings, wouldn't you say?"

Heat flooded Darshika's cheeks. "Feelings? About what?" she feigned ignorance, hoping to deflect his teasing.

He chuckled, clearly not buying it. "Oh, come on, Darshika. We all know you're smitten. Even Hardik noticed."

Darshika groaned internally. Great, the secret was spreading like wildfire through the team. Thankfully, the door swung open before she could stammer a reply. There he was, the object of her all desire and the bane of her existence – Abhishek Sharma.

His smile, a beacon of sunshine brightening the sterile room, contrasted with Darshika's sudden mental paralysis. Gone was the witty repartee she'd practiced in her head; now, even a coherent sentence felt like a monumental feat. "Hi, Abhishek," she finally managed, her voice a squeak betraying her nervousness. "Come in, take a seat."

Abhishek sauntered in, his movements a testament to natural grace. "Hey, Doc," he greeted, his voice as smooth as his batting stroke. "Ready to poke and prod again?"

"Always," Darshika mumbled, gesturing towards the examination table. As Abhishek settled down, a wave of heat washed over her. This close, his cologne, a heady mix of confidence and something more, was intoxicating.

The stethoscope, usually a familiar friend, felt alien in her clammy hands. "Any aches or pains this week?" she asked, the question sounding unprofessional with the nervous edge in her voice.

Abhishek chuckled. "Just the usual soreness after practice. Nothing your magic touch can't fix, though."

Ugh, the compliments! They weren't helping her flustered state. Darshika took a deep breath, trying to project some semblance of professional nonchalance. "Well, let's see what this 'magic touch' can detect."

Her fingers brushed against Abhishek's arm as she placed the stethoscope, sending a jolt through her. The carefully planned flirting tactics evaporated like smoke in the wind. "So, how was the party last night?" she blurted out, a completely irrelevant question.

Abhishek frowned, clearly confused. "Party? What party?"

Heat flooded Darshika's face, turning it a painful shade of crimson. "Uh, never mind," she stammered. "Forget it. Let's just... get on with the checkup."

The rest of the examination was a blur of fumbled questions, awkward silences, and failed attempts at witty banter. Abhishek's friendly replies did little to soothe Darshika's mortification. By the time she waved goodbye, convinced she'd blown her chances with him forever, a single thought echoed in her mind: "Operation Impress Abhishek Sharma: a spectacular failure."

*****

The air crackled with euphoria. The victory party for the Indian cricket team's series win against England was a vibrant explosion of celebration. Darshika, along with her fellow doctors, stood on the sidelines, their cheers echoing amidst the jubilant crowd. Her gaze, however, remained fixed on Abhishek, the star batsman basking in the adulation of his teammates – Hardik Pandya, KL Rahul, Shubman Gill, and the young prodigy, Yashasvi Jaiswal.

As the music transitioned from a celebratory anthem to a slow, romantic number, a flicker of determination ignited within Darshika. Today was the day, she decided. Taking a deep breath, she excused herself from her colleagues and navigated the throng of well-wishers towards Abhishek.
Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs as she approached him. The carefree banter and backsplash between Abhishek and his friends seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the deafening thump of her own pulse.

"Hi, Abhishek," she said, her voice barely whispering above the music.

He turned, his smile widening as he recognized her. "Hey, Doc! Enjoying the party?"

"It's amazing," she stammered, her carefully rehearsed lines dissolving into nervous air.

"Actually, I..." She hesitated, then blurted out, "Would you like to dance?"

The question hung in the air; a silent plea disguised as a casual invitation. Abhishek, ever the charmer, glanced at his friends, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Thanks, Doc, but I think I'll stick to cheering with the boys for now."

Disappointment washed over Darshika, a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. The rejection, though delivered politely, felt like a punch to the gut. She managed a weak smile, her cheeks burning with humiliation. "Of course, no worries."

Before she could retreat, a hand landed on her shoulder. It was Shubman, his gaze fixed on Abhishek. "Mind if I cut in, Doc?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

Darshika, surprised but grateful for the distraction, nodded numbly. As Shubman led her onto the dance floor, she couldn't help but steal a glance back at Abhishek. He stood by the window, a peculiar expression on his face. Was it... annoyance?

They swayed to the music, Shubman's easy banter a stark contrast to her churning emotions. "Rough one there, huh?" he murmured, his voice low.
Darshika let out a defeated sigh. "Apparently, my dance moves aren't as impressive as my medical skills."

Shubman chuckled. "Don't worry, Doc. His loss. He's probably too busy celebrating to notice a beautiful woman like you."

Darshika forced a smile, her mind replaying the scene with Abhishek. Was it just her imagination, or did he seem... bothered by her dancing with Shubman? An unfamiliar feeling, a spark of something akin to jealousy, flickered within her.

Perhaps, just perhaps, her disastrous attempt at asking him to dance had inadvertently triggered a reaction she hadn't anticipated.

*****

The night continued, the music a soothing balm to her bruised ego. As the party wound down, Darshika stole another glance towards Abhishek. He was gone. A pang of disappointment stabbed at her, but it was quickly replaced by a flicker of determination.

Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't the end of the story.
The pub buzzed with the boisterous camaraderie of a typical boys' night out. Abhishek, nursing a beer, found himself the target of his teammates' good-natured teasing.

"Seriously, Abhishek?" boomed Hardik; a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Still flying solo? With the way you charm the fans, we thought you'd have a battalion of admirers by now!"

Abhishek shrugged, bewildered by their amusement. "Cricket's my priority, guys. No time for distractions."

KL Rahul chuckled, shaking his head. "Distractions? Dude, love isn't a distraction, it's..." he trailed off, searching for the right words. "It's motivation, inspiration. You wouldn't understand though, with your head buried in stats and practice sessions."

Yashasvi, the youngest of the group, piped up, his voice brimming with youthful impatience. "Are you really that dense, Abhishek? Can't you see?"

Abhishek frowned, genuinely confused. "See what?"

Shubman, who'd been curiously silent until now, leaned forward, a playful glint in his eyes. "The way Darshika practically trips over her clipboard whenever you're around. The 'subtle' hints she drops thicker than butter on toast."

A lightbulb flickered on in Abhishek's head. Memories flooded back – Darshika's flustered demeanor during interviews, her awkward attempts at small talk, the way her cheeks turned a rosy pink whenever he spoke to her.

"You mean... she..." he stammered, a blush creeping up his neck.

"Bingo!" Hardik exclaimed, slapping him on the back. "We've all been noticing it for weeks. You, however, were too busy being Mr. Cricket to see what's right in front of you."

Abhishek felt a surge of warmth, a mix of surprise and a strange sense of satisfaction. He replayed their interactions in his mind, a new understanding dawning. Her nervous questions, the clumsy flirting – it wasn't just her reporter persona. She was interested in him!

"But... her hints were... well, not exactly subtle," he admitted, a sheepish grin breaking out on his face.

Shubman snorted. "Let's just say subtlety isn't Darshika's forte. But hey, at least she made a move, unlike some cricketers we know who are oblivious to anything beyond the boundary rope."

The playful banter continued, his friends filling him in on the not-so-subtle details of Darshika's attempts at flirting. A newfound appreciation for her efforts bloomed within him. Despite her clumsy execution, the underlying message was clear.

As the night wore on, the image of Darshika's flustered smile occupied his thoughts. He realized that maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than just cricket. Perhaps, there was room for a special someone to share his victories and support him through his challenges.

*****

Two weeks had passed since the celebratory party, and Abhishek, emboldened by his newfound realization, was determined to make a move. He'd practiced his lines in the mirror, prepared witty remarks to counter her usual flustered responses, and even debated leaving a small bouquet of lilies – her favorite – on the examination table. Today was the day. It was his turn for the dreaded (or maybe not so dreaded anymore) checkup with Darshika.

He sauntered into the familiar sterile room; his confidence buoyed by the butterflies fluttering excitedly in his stomach. But something was different. Darshika, usually flustered and fidgety around him, seemed entirely focused on her clipboard, her brow furrowed in concentration. Gone were the shy glances and nervous smiles he'd come to associate with her.

As she rattled off questions about his well-being, her voice devoid of its usual playful lilt, Abhishek's practiced lines evaporated. He attempted some lighthearted banter, a harmless joke about his sore muscles, but it fell flat. Darshika barely acknowledged it, her pen scratching across the paper as she wrote down his vitals.

Disappointment gnawed at Abhishek. Had he misread the signs completely? Was she subtly rejecting him by putting up a professional barrier? Dejected, he decided to postpone his grand confession. He'd wait for a better moment, a time when she wasn't consumed by medical charts and stethoscopes.

The checkup concluded in an awkward silence. As Abhishek rose from the table, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes, a new wave of disappointment hit him. Darshika, looking stunning in a figure-hugging hot pink dress that accentuated her curves, was an unexpected sight. Gone was the white doctor's coat he was accustomed to. Her hair, usually pulled back in a practical bun, cascaded down her shoulders in loose waves. She looked... breathtaking.

Lost in his admiration, Abhishek almost missed her conversation with Dr. Sharma, the head physician. He caught the tail end of it – "...leaving early today... a date..."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. A date? Darshika had a date. The elation he'd felt moments ago evaporated, replaced by a cold pang of jealousy. So much for his hopes. Here he was, pining over her, and she was off on a date with someone else. Dejected, he mumbled a goodbye and left the room, Shubman's sympathetic pat on his shoulder doing little to ease the sting of rejection.

Walking out of the hospital, Abhishek felt a wave of despair wash over him. Maybe his teammates were right. Maybe cricket was all he was destined for. Love, it seemed, was a game he was destined to lose.

*****

Sharma, bruised by the miscommunication, trudged home, his head hung low. Shubman, ever the loyal friend, noticed his dejection. After a few beers and some gentle prodding, Abhishek poured out his heart about Darshika's date and the confusing text message exchange.

Shubman listened patiently, then raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Darshika, going on a date two weeks after what just happened? Come on, Abhishek. That doesn't sound right. Think about it – the girl's been practically tripping over you for months. Does that sound like someone who would move on so quickly?"

A spark of hope ignited in Abhishek's eyes. Shubman was right. Darshika's behavior at the checkup could have been nerves, not disinterest.

Suddenly, a plan hatched in Abhishek's mind. He raced to the hospital, finding out from a chatty nurse that Darshika had mentioned a dinner date at a new Italian restaurant across town. Armed with this information and a newfound determination, Abhishek hailed a cab and sped towards the restaurant.

He arrived, heart pounding, and scanned the dimly lit interior. There, in a corner booth, sat Darshika, laughing animatedly with a man in a black blazer. Relief washed over Abhishek, momentarily overshadowed by a pang of possessiveness.

Taking a deep breath, he found a seat behind them, strategically hidden from view. His phone buzzed in his pocket – a perfect opportunity. He dialed Darshika's number, his voice disguised with a hint of nervousness.

"Hello?" Darshika answered, her voice tinkling with amusement.

"Uh, hi," Abhishek began, his voice low. "There's been some reports of a dangerous criminal going around town. Targets beautiful women on dates. Black blazer, hand tattoo, chain..." He trailed off, hoping the description would click to Darshika.

Darshika's laughter died down, replaced by a worried tone. "What? where are you Abhishek?"

"Uh, well..." Abhishek peeked over the back of the booth, catching a glimpse of the man's profile. "I'm waiting outside. For you."

Darshika's eyes widened in surprise. She excused herself from her bewildered date and hurried towards him.

"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, a mixture of confusion and relief in her voice.

"Trying to make things right," Abhishek said, a nervous smile playing on his lips. He then took a deep breath and dropped to one knee, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Darshika, these past few weeks have been...confusing. But seeing you on a date...well, let's just say it made me realize something important."

Darshika's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. Her gaze flitted between him and the bewildered man at the table.

"Love," Abhishek continued, his voice sincere. "It's not just about winning matches. Love is magic. It's inspiration. And I want to be inspired by the most amazing girl I know. Darshika Singh, will you be my girlfriend?"

The question hung in the air for a beat, then a radiant smile bloomed on Darshika's face. "Yes, Abhishek! A thousand times yes!"

The restaurant erupted in applause, oblivious to the private drama that had just unfolded. Abhishek rose to his feet, a triumphant grin plastered across his face. He pulled Darshika into a kiss, the taste of victory and newfound love sweeter than any trophy he'd ever held.

In that moment, under the soft glow of the restaurant lights, Abhishek knew he'd not only won Darshika's heart but also discovered a love far more fulfilling than any cricket match.