The steady patter of rain drummed against the hotel windows, weaving a melancholy rhythm that blurred the line between time and stillness.

The relentless downpour had swallowed Day 2 of the second Test, leaving the field waterlogged and the players restless, their energy suspended in the stifling embrace of unfulfilled anticipation.

The dining hall hummed with muted conversations and the clatter of cutlery. Steam curled lazily from coffee cups, mingling with the earthy scent of rain.

Shubman Gill pushed the heavy door open, the polished floor cool beneath his sneakers as he stepped inside. The warmth of the room did little to thaw the cold knot of unease coiled in his chest.

He scanned the room, half-heartedly pretending to be looking for a place to sit. But he already knew where his gaze would land.

Tara.

There she was, by the wide windowpane streaked with rivulets of rain, a teacup cradled between her fingers. She stirred it absently, her eyes distant, as though searching for answers hidden in the swirling liquid.

The soft light from the overcast sky framed her face, highlighting the subtle crease between her brows. She looked... different. Pensive. Vulnerable, even.

Shubman's steps faltered.

The memory surged forward without permission-the kiss they'd shared after the match, wild and unexpected.

Her lips, warm and soft, had tasted faintly of salt and resolve, as though she'd made a decision neither of them had fully understood until it was too late to pull back.

He inhaled sharply, the vivid recollection tightening his throat. That moment had been a spark in the middle of chaos, but now it lingered between them like a charged storm cloud, threatening to pour.

He should go to her. Talk to her. But what could he possibly say that wouldn't make things more complicated? Hey, Tara, remember that time we kissed? What does it mean now?

No, that wasn't going to work.

Yet even as doubt tugged at his resolve, his feet had already started moving toward her. Something about the quiet tension in her posture drew him closer, made him want to shatter the distance.

Just as he was about to speak, she looked up, as if sensing his presence. Her eyes met his-a flicker of surprise, then uncertainty. Her lips parted slightly, words hovering on the brink, but hesitation won. She glanced away, her cheeks flushing faintly.

Shubman's breath caught. That small reaction unravelled his composure faster than any fierce bouncer on the field.

Say something, he urged himself.

But cowardice claimed him first.

He turned abruptly toward the buffet line, pretending to be deeply fascinated by a tray of soggy toast. The warmth that had filled the room moments ago now felt stifling, pressing against his skin.

Behind him, he heard the faint scrape of a chair.

Tara had stood up.

His pulse quickened, torn between staying rooted in place or turning back to face her. He didn't move fast enough. Their paths collided near the doorway, her soft gasp cutting through the thick air.

"Sorry," she murmured, her voice stiff.

"It's okay," he managed, eyes stubbornly fixed on the ground.

They brushed past each other, their hands so close they almost touched but didn't. The charge between them was palpable, like two magnets resisting an inevitable pull.

The moment stretched unbearably, then broke.

Tara walked away, her steps brisk and sure. Shubman stood frozen, wondering if he'd just missed his chance to fix what was unraveling between them.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

Back in the hallway, Ishan Kishan jogged up beside Shubman, his grin wide and irreverent as always. Mischief danced in his eyes, like he'd just been handed front-row seats to the juiciest drama of the season.

"So," Ishan drawled, falling into step with Shubman, "what was that all about?"

"What was what?" Shubman grumbled, quickening his pace toward the elevator, hoping to shake him off.

"That awkward, tension-filled soap opera moment with Tara," Ishan teased, practically bouncing with curiosity.

"Did I walk into the middle of some tragic love story or what? Should I get popcorn?"

"Drop it," Shubman muttered, jabbing the elevator button a little harder than necessary.

Ishan's eyes gleamed as he followed Shubman inside. "Oho, so it's serious. What happened? Did she steal your last protein bar? Say Kohli's better looking?"

Shubman sighed heavily, leaning against the elevator wall. "No fight, okay?"

"Then what?" Ishan folded his arms, clearly not letting this go.

Shubman clenched his jaw, debating whether to spill the truth. But it was Ishan-persistent, nosy, and somehow always knowing exactly when to dig.

"We kissed," Shubman admitted finally, his voice low.

The words hung in the air for a beat.

Ishan's eyes practically bugged out. "Wait-WHAT?! You kissed Tara?"

"Keep your voice down," Shubman hissed, glancing at the elevator doors like they might have ears.

"You KISSED her?" Ishan repeated, whisper-shouting this time, but still in disbelief. "Since when did you become bold, Romeo?"

Shubman rubbed the back of his neck, his face heating up. "It just... happened."

"How does a kiss 'just happen'?" Ishan demanded, his grin wider than ever. "Did you trip and fall onto her lips?"

Shubman shot him a glare. "After the match, okay? We were talking, and then... I don't know. It just happened."

Ishan let out a low whistle. "Damn. And here I thought Test matches were boring."

"Can you be serious for once?" Shubman grumbled.

Ishan sobered slightly, though the teasing gleam never fully left his eyes. "So why are you moping around like you just got out for a duck?"

"It's weird now," Shubman admitted, his voice quieter. "I don't know what to say to her. And I'm not sure if she regrets it or-"

"Bro," Ishan cut him off, his tone surprisingly wise, "you're overthinking this. It's just a kiss, not a wedding proposal."

Shubman sighed. "Easier said than done."

"Look," Ishan said, clapping a hand on Shubman's shoulder, "you like her, right?"

Shubman hesitated. "Yeah. I think I do."

"Then talk to her when you're ready. Be real. And if it's weird now, it's only because you're making it weird."

Shubman frowned. "You're annoyingly right."

"I know," Ishan grinned, puffing out his chest. "I'm a genius. Now go fix your love life, Romeo."

Shubman shook his head, unable to help the small laugh that escaped. "You're the worst."

"And yet, here I am, your wise best friend," Ishan quipped as the elevator dinged open. "Now go before I write a Bollywood script about this."

Shubman rolled his eyes but felt lighter somehow. Maybe Ishan was right-sometimes you just had to face things head-on.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

Tara wandered into the hotel garden, the damp earth squelching softly beneath her sneakers. The rain had eased into a gentle drizzle, the air smelling fresh and grounding.

She found a secluded bench beneath a sprawling banyan tree and sank down, pulling out her phone. Her thumb hovered over Kashish's contact before she pressed call.

The screen connected instantly.

"Finally! " Kashish practically shrieked, her face filling the screen. Her expression was a mix of playful annoyance and exaggerated drama. "Do you even remember your best friends exist, or have you ascended to cricket royalty?"

"Barely," Vriti chimed in as she joined the video call from her own room, snacking on something crunchy. "We thought you forgot how to use a phone."

Tara laughed despite herself. "I'm sorry. Things have been... complicated."

"Complicated, she says," Kashish mimicked with an eye roll. "What did we miss? Oh wait-Matt Henry, international playboy heartbreaker. We've seen the headlines."

Tara winced, tucking a strand of soft hair behind her ear. "Yeah... that's part of it."

Vriti's playful expression softened. "Hey, seriously. How are you holding up?"

Tara let out a breath. "I'm surviving. But... something else happened."

Kashish's eyes widened. "Oh, we need details."

"Spill," Vriti commanded. "No half-baked confessions."

Tara bit her lip, but the words tumbled out before she could stop herself. "I kissed Shubman."

Both girls gasped dramatically, their faces morphing into pure disbelief.

"You what?!" Kashish screeched. "Oh my god. SHUBMAN GILL? Mr. National hearthrob? You kissed him?! Girl, don't leave me hanging-spill NOW."

Vriti was equally stunned. "Wait, wait-pause. Did the rain make you both think you were in a Bollywood movie? Were violins playing?"

Tara groaned, covering her face with one hand. "Can you be normal for two seconds?"

"Nope." Kashish shook her head furiously. "Details. Start from the beginning. Did he lean in first, or was it you? Was it intense or sweet? Give us a vibe check, Tara."

"It just... happened," Tara said helplessly. "After the match. We were talking, and then suddenly-bam. Kissing. I don't even know what came over me."

"I LOVE THIS FOR YOU," Kashish declared dramatically, flinging her arms wide as if she were blessing the universe.

"But wait-now what?" Vriti asked, leaning closer to the screen. "Is it, like, weird now?"

Tara sighed. "Yeah. We haven't talked about it, and I don't know what to think."

"Okay, serious question," Kashish said, turning solemn. "How do you feel about it? Like, do you like him?"

Tara chewed her lip, thinking. "I don't know. Shubman's been there for me through everything with Matt. He's kind, funny, steady... and I guess I'm scared of ruining what we have. What if it was just a mistake?"

Vriti's eyes softened. "Girl, you're overthinking this. If it felt right in the moment, it probably was right."

Kashish nodded vigorously. "Listen, Tara-you deserve to be happy. Maybe Shubman's the person who can give you that. And if he's not? Well, that's a future-you problem."

"Exactly," Vriti added. "But what if he's standing there right now, thinking the exact same thing you are?"

Tara exhaled shakily. "Maybe."

"Not maybe-definitely," Kashish said firmly. "And listen, if things go south, Vriti and I will fly in and kidnap you for a Maldives girls' trip."

"True," Vriti agreed, munching on her snack. "We're always down for a drama detox."

Tara laughed, the weight on her chest lifting slightly. "You guys are insane."

"Insanely good for you," Kashish corrected with a wink. "Now, call me after you talk to him. And if it leads to more kissing? I better hear all about it."

"Bye, maniacs," Tara said fondly, ending the call with a smile.

Her heart still raced, but the conversation had cleared the fog in her mind. Maybe it was time to stop overthinking and start figuring things out-one step at a time.