The room had fallen into a peaceful silence, broken only by the soft hum of the hotel air conditioning. 

Shubman and Apoorva were still curled up on the couch, her legs draped over his as he absentmindedly played with the hem of her hoodie. 

She loved how he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

But the warmth in her chest was quickly replaced by a knot of hesitation. She bit her lip, debating whether to bring it up. 

She hated seeing him upset, but she also felt like it was something he needed to hear.

"Shubman," she started softly, breaking the silence.

He glanced up from where he was tracing circles on her knee. "Hmm?"

She hesitated, fidgeting with the sleeves of her hoodie. "Can I say something? Something that might be a little... hard to hear?"

His brows furrowed slightly, but he nodded. "Of course, jaan. What's on your mind?"

She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "You know how much I believe in you, right? I think you're one of the most talented players India has ever had."

He tilted his head, sensing a "but" coming. "But...?"

"But," she said hesitantly, "you're struggling in SENA countries. Your scores outside Asia haven't been... consistent."

The air between them grew heavier, the weight of her words settling in. Shubman's jaw tightened slightly, and he leaned back against the couch, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," he admitted quietly, his voice laced with frustration. "Everyone keeps saying it. 'Great in subcontinent pitches, but can't perform overseas.' It's like a fucking broken record at this point."

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. 

"Hey, I'm not saying this to tear you down. I'm saying it because I know you're capable of so much more. You're better than what those numbers show."

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for judgment, but all he found was support. "It's not that simple, baby. The pitches are different, the bowlers are tougher, and the pressure... it's a lot."

"I know it's a lot," she said softly. "And I know you're doing everything you can to adapt. But maybe it's time to switch up your approach. Work with the coaches, analyze what's going wrong, and figure out a plan. You're one of the hardest workers I know, Gill. If anyone can crack this, it's you."

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he nodded slowly. 

"You're right. I hate it, but you're right. I've been so focused on maintaining my form in general that I haven't really focused on the specific challenges of overseas pitches."

She smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair. "There's nothing wrong with needing to adapt. Even the greats like Kohli and Sachin had to do it. You're only human, Gill. Give yourself some grace."

He let out a deep sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You know, I don't think anyone's ever been this honest with me about my game. People either hype me up too much or tear me down completely. But you... you're different."

"Because I care about you," she said simply. "I want to see you succeed, Gill. Not just for India, but for yourself."

He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "I don't deserve you, Poo. You're too good to me."

She smiled, resting her forehead against his. "You deserve all the good things in the world, Gill. Now promise me you'll work on this. No more brushing it off or avoiding it."

"I promise," he said, his voice firm. "For you, I'll do whatever it takes."

"That's my boy," she teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other's warmth, Shubman felt a renewed sense of determination. 

He'd face his struggles head-on, not just for himself but for the girl who believed in him when he doubted himself the most.

soup rants!!!

the thirteenth chapter is here!
did we like it?
do comment your favorite part
what do you think will happen in the next chapter?
until then
yours lovingly,

soup <3