After the celebrations had died down and the dressing room began to empty, Shubman stepped outside for a breather. The evening air was cool, a stark contrast to the heat of the day’s match.

He leaned against the railing, looking out over the stadium. The floodlights cast long shadows across the pitch, and the roar of the crowd had faded to a distant hum.

“You okay?”

Shubman turned, startled to find Tara standing a few feet away. She had changed into a simple kurta and jeans, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softening instinctively. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed some air.”

She stepped closer, her arms crossed over her chest. “You were incredible out there,” she said, her voice earnest.

Shubman’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Thanks. It wasn’t easy, though.”

Tara tilted her head, studying him. “Hmm...was it because of Matt?”

Shubman hesitated, his eyes dropping to the ground. “Partly,” he admitted. “But mostly, I just didn’t want to let the team down.”

“And you didn’t,” she said firmly. “You were the best player on that field today.”

Her words warmed him in a way he hadn’t expected, and he found himself looking at her, really looking at her. There was something in her eyes—a mixture of gratitude and something softer, something he didn’t dare name.

“Tara,” he said quietly, his voice lower now, “are you okay?”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m getting there,” she replied. “It’s... hard. But today, watching you play, I felt... proud. Like maybe things will be okay.”

Shubman’s chest tightened at her words, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, his fingers brushing hers. “They will be,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Tara blinked, surprised by his intensity, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she nodded, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

They stood there in silence for a moment, the cool breeze brushing past them. The stadium, now nearly empty, seemed to hold its breath around them.

Shubman’s gaze stayed on Tara, lingering longer than he intended. The way the dim floodlights reflected in her eyes, the faint color rising in her cheeks, the soft curve of her lips—it all pulled at something deep within him.

He told himself to look away, to say something light and casual to break the silence, but he couldn’t.

Tara turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. There was something in her expression—something raw and unguarded that she wasn’t even trying to hide. It wasn’t sadness, or pain, or gratitude. It was something else entirely.

Shubman swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as the air between them seemed to shift. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but suddenly the space felt charged.

Tara’s heart was racing, and she could feel the weight of his gaze on her. It wasn’t just the look of a friend or even someone concerned—it was more, so much more, and it made her breath hitch.

Her mind screamed at her to take a step back, to break whatever invisible thread was pulling them closer together, but her body betrayed her.

Her eyes flicked down to his lips, and she knew immediately it was a mistake.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

Neither of them moved, and yet, somehow, the distance between them began to disappear.

Shubman’s hand, which had been resting loosely at his side, twitched as if he wanted to reach for her. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions: confusion, fear, and a desire so strong it scared him.

Tara... he thought, her name echoing in his mind like a mantra.

Tara couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All she could focus on was the steady rhythm of Shubman’s breaths, the way his shoulders tensed as though he was fighting the same pull she was.

Time seemed to slow as they leaned closer, their movements hesitant, almost involuntary. Tara’s pulse thundered in her ears, and she wasn’t sure if it was the cool night air or the warmth radiating from him that was making her shiver.

“Shubman...” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

His name on her lips was all it took to unravel him.

The silence between them was deafening, yet neither Tara nor Shubman dared to break it. The cool night breeze brushed against Tara’s skin, but it did nothing to cool the warmth blooming in her chest.

Her breath hitched as Shubman stepped closer, his movements slow, almost hesitant. His eyes were locked on hers, and for a moment, she felt completely exposed, like he could see every thought, every fear, every hope she tried to bury.

“Tara,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The way her name rolled off his tongue sent a shiver down her spine.

She swallowed, unsure of what to say or do. Her hands trembled at her sides, and she clenched them into fists, trying to steady herself.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, her voice quiet but wavering.

“Like what?” he replied, his lips curving into a faint, almost teasing smile.

“Like I’m... something more than what I am,” she said, her words faltering.

Shubman exhaled slowly, his gaze softening but remaining intent. “Maybe you are.”

The air between them seemed to hum, charged with a tension that neither of them could ignore. Tara’s pulse raced, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the weight of his words or the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“This feels dangerous,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Maybe it is,” Shubman said, taking another small step closer.

Tara’s chest tightened, her thoughts spinning out of control. She wanted to say something, to push him away, to stop whatever this was. But her body betrayed her, leaning ever so slightly toward him, drawn by a force she couldn’t explain.

Shubman hesitated, his hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to reach for her but was afraid to. His jaw tightened, and his voice dropped lower. “If you want me to stop, just say the word.”

Tara’s breath hitched again, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She didn’t say anything.

“Tara,” he said again, softer this time, his tone almost pleading.

“Just kiss me already,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but carrying enough weight to make Shubman freeze.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

Shubman didn’t give himself time to think. The moment the words left her lips, he closed the distance between them, his hand cupping her cheek as he pressed his lips to hers.

It wasn’t hesitant or careful—it was instinctive, raw, and full of everything he hadn’t been able to put into words.

For a moment, the world tilted, everything else ceasing to exist as the kiss deepened. It was an unspoken answer, a promise, and a release of every bottled-up feeling he’d been holding back.

Tara’s breath hitched against him, and he felt her hands clutch his shirt, grounding them both in a moment they couldn’t undo, even if they wanted to.

Tara’s heart stuttered in her chest, her hands hovering near his chest, unsure of where to go. But as his lips pressed more firmly against hers, her fingers found their way to his shirt, gripping it lightly as though anchoring herself to him.

The kiss was slow at first, unhurried and gentle, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Something inside both of them broke free—years of restraint, of unspoken feelings, of moments left unsaid.

Shubman’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin with a tenderness that made her knees weak. His other hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between them.

Tara melted into him, her fingers clutching his shirt tighter as the kiss deepened. It was raw and consuming, unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

Her mind, which had been spinning with thoughts of Matt and heartbreak just moments ago, was now blissfully silent. All she could focus on was him—the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the way he kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.

For Shubman, it felt like the world had tilted on its axis. He’d kissed girls before, but this—this was different. Tara wasn’t just another girl; she was... everything. And the way her lips moved against his, hesitant but hungry, made him feel like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting lightly against each other.

Tara’s eyes fluttered open, meeting his. Her chest heaved, and she couldn’t tell if her racing heart was from the kiss or the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

“Shubman...” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head slightly, his hand still resting on her waist. “Don’t say anything,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the chaos in his mind.

Tara blinked, her lips still tingling. “I don’t know what this means.”

“Neither do I,” Shubman admitted, his voice hoarse. “But I don’t regret it.”

Her breath hitched, and she took a small step back, needing space to clear her head. But even as she did, she felt the loss of his warmth, of his touch.

“We shouldn’t have...” she started, but the words felt wrong, like a lie she didn’t believe.

“Maybe,” Shubman said, his voice quiet but firm. “But I’m not sorry.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between them, heavy and undeniable. Tara didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond to the emotions threatening to spill over.

Without another word, she turned and walked away, her steps quick and uneven as she tried to put distance between them.

Shubman watched her go, his chest tight and his mind racing. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

He didn’t know what it meant, but one thing was certain: nothing would be the same again.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

As he made his way back to the dressing room, Shubman couldn’t shake the memory of her touch, the way she had looked at him before leaning in.

What have I done? he thought, his chest tightening.

It wasn’t just the kiss—it was everything it represented. The feelings he had been trying to suppress for weeks, the way his heart raced whenever she was near, the overwhelming need to protect her from the pain she had been carrying.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. He had promised to be there for her, to support her as a friend. And yet, here he was, crossing lines he wasn’t sure they could come back from.

But even as guilt and confusion consumed him, there was another part of him—a quieter, more honest part—that couldn’t regret it.

Because for the first time in a long time, he had felt something real. Something worth fighting for.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

Back in her hotel room, Tara paced back and forth, her hands trembling as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Her lips still tingled from the kiss, and her mind was a whirlwind of emotions.

What were you thinking? she scolded herself, her heart pounding.

It wasn’t supposed to happen—not with Shubman. He was her friend, her confidant, the one person she could rely on when everything else had fallen apart.

But as much as she tried to rationalize it, she couldn’t deny the truth. The kiss had felt... right.

She sank onto the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered to herself. “Not again.”

But no matter how much she tried to push it away, the memory of his touch, his warmth, his steady presence refused to leave her.

And deep down, a small voice whispered: Maybe this time, it’s different.