Ishaan&Suhaana: Remembrance: OS

So i marathon watched this show😆 and this is the result of me catching up.

Ab aur intezaar nahi hota!

He needs to remember, my poor Suhana!

sorry its rough, i didnt really proofread in my haste to write 🤔

-Aish

Remembrance

He stared curiously after the young woman walking away. Her behavior today was poles apart from the first, and last time they had met. He remembered that day clearly, he'd been sitting good-naturedly at that restaurant, waiting for his boss to show when she had entered with a friend. Smiling pleasantly at him as they authoritatively plopped before him. Then there had been no awkwardness, except as he remembered, from him. What else should he have done? It wasn't often that he met his sister's friends, and that too, ones that were so open and unreserved around him. Perhaps that's why he remembered her. She was the one after all, that had planted the name in his head. 'Suhana.' The name came from her, but if he never knew a Suhana, why would she mention her?

He shook his head as she ventured out towards the door, pausing to nervously glance back at him, clutching the binder in her arms closer to her. With a shake of her head she was gone, and he was left watching her, aghast at the sudden coldness where before he had presumed warmth.

It was as he turned to grab his coffee that he noticed the piece of paper fluttering to the ground. He almost called out after her, but just as soon realized she was long gone, scurrying off and vanished by the time he'd made his way over to the lost trinket. He picked it up curiously, realizing now that it was in fact, a photo, not a piece of paper.

He furrowed his brow, as he caught sight of the bright pink post-it that was stamped over the picture, he had seen these somewhere before. He glanced around quickly, as if caught in a crime; assured all was safe, he proceeded to read the short message scrawled in haphazard cursive over the bright article.

Suli,

Blow it up to at least a foot wide, please. I want to put on the wall in my bedroom. =)

-Suhana

His breath caught. Suhana. That name again. Unknowingly, his jaw began to clench. Somehow, that name managed to stir emotions so strong, he was unsure sometimes of what to call them. He'd lost count of the amount of nights he'd sprung up in bed with that name leaving his lips at a silent whisper. That name had been haunting his for so long. He couldn't figure out if the name was real or if he was in fact in love with someone that didn't even exist. Despite what his brothers had said, he couldn't explain it away as a mere figment of his imagination. Those feelings, those emotions, they were too strong, too powerful, overcoming and all consuming to be a mere conception of his mind.

And he had been right; he smiled slightly, running a finger over the name scrawled carelessly at the bottom of the note. Suhana. She was real, she existed. His heart flew as another thought entered his mind, could this picture be hers? Could it be of her? Could he be holding the answer to all his questions in his very hand? He closed his eyes, silently praying that this one small object could set things right in his life, that his train would finally land correctly on the tracks.

Letting out a deep breath he tore away the sticky paper, eyes widening as he took in the scene before him. Tears began to form at the edges of his eyes, painful stabs of pain erupted from his brain. He fell onto a chair near him as he absorbed the photo held delicately between his fingers, precious as the day it was taken. Wiping away his tears he stood up determinedly, no, he did not remember this. But he would be damned if he didn't find out.

"Ishaan? You're home." His mother stood before him, worry etched on her usually pleasant face. She was clearly trying to hide it, forcing a smile at him as he watched her silently. Handing over his lunch bag he climbed the stairs, heading towards a room that didn't even feel like his to him anymore.

Entering the room, his eyes fell on the small idol that rested on his table. A small smile played on his lips as he remembered waking up every day to a room full of incense, her smiling face threatening him as she bullied her way into every aspect of his life. His face paled as he realized that he wouldn't have to "suffer" through that much longer, she was leaving soon. Tonight was her last night here, their last night together. He shook his head, chiding himself for the thought, since when had they ever been a they?

Slowly changing, he sat on his bed, absentmindly running a hand over the fabric as he stared at the idol. It smiled back at him knowingly, teasingly. He got up, reaching to extract the photo from within in bag, he observed it again. The initial shock wearing off, he realized how much sense the snapshot made. It was real, as real as the truth that had been hidden from him, the truth that he would have forever forgotten and liven in oblivion of, a truth he was yet to fully remember.

He made his way downstairs solemnly, the family bustling around him, each occupied with their own tasks. Those that weren't pretended to be, he'd gotten used it by now. Ever since the news of her leaving had been sprung upon them, the family had been aloof, congregating at times but without alerting him. Silent glances every time he had an exchange with her, pained looks as she walked out of a room. He'd seen it all, and had written it away, it was only the sadness of a friend leaving. Soon she would be gone, and with her, her memories.

Dinner proceeded as usual, laughter, small talk, comments on the day, all an effort to keep the mood light. All an effort to cover up the brilliantly apparent aura of finality, of sadness. He suffered through it silently, observing as she sat at the other end of the table and made small jokes, smiling reassuringly at everyone who worriedly watched her.

Soon, they were all off, he stood watching from above as his sister and father set off to a trip to a friend's house, it was all an excuse. Ishika hadn't wanted to be here where she left. He stalked into his room, restless as the picture flashed in his mind again. He would get to the bottom of that tonight. It was his last chance. He shut off the lights, waiting patiently for the night to set it. Listening carefully to the sounds of the family settling down; each light being turned off until only the sounds of fans remained, playing to a background of cars and bikes honking in the distance.

Swinging out of bed he crept to his door, the photo safely in his pocket he slowly opened his door, cringing at the noise it made. Never before had he thought his door was this loud. Softly, he tiptoed down the hallway, coming to a stop before his destination. Silently praying, he pushed open the door, thanking God as he realized it was locked as he'd feared. Closing it behind him, he inched towards the bed, kneeling down beside the lone figure that slept peacefully on it.

He felt himself smiling as he watched her, fighting the urge to give up and run out, he reached out and brushed away a wayward hair that was being blown but the fan above. She moved slightly, causing him to freeze in fright, but she didn't wake, and he sighed in relief. Once again the strand of hair fell onto her face, her brow scrunched in annoyance, but before she could move he was there again, moving it safely behind her ear. She smiled slightly, whispering incoherently, he froze again as she moved once more, again, she didn't wake, instead she grabbed the hand that floated near her face, bringing it closer and resting a cheek upon it. He stilled as her hand enveloped itself in his, this was it.

He reached out, gently shaking her, "Suhana," he called out, "wake up." She adjusted her position on the bed, eyes not opening; he called out again, "Suhana."

He tensed in anticipation as the eyes began to flutter open, barely running over his features before clenching closed again.

"You're still up?" he swallowed as the question emerged from her lips. "Ishaan, why do you work so much? Come to bed na?" she snuggled closer to the hand, bringing it down to hold in both of her own; seemingly falling asleep again with a small smile on her face.

He stood slightly, moving to sit on the bed. His mind reeled from the shock it had just received. He stared in awe at the woman who lay sprawled in the bed beside him, his wife, he realized. It all made so much sense now. His eyes shut as the past few weeks washed over him in memory.

"Kya baat hai Ishaan bhai, apni hi wife ko line maarihoon?"

"Yeh mera bhi bedroom hai!"

"Suhana ko zuroon le aana"

"Wo peele sari wali ladki kaun hai?"

"Suhana, Shashikala-"

"Shashikala ji, aap please yahanse jaayie!"

"I love you Suhana" His eyes flew open as he gasped, this was Suhana.

Beside him, she began to stir, moaning and grumbling as she twisted and turned, letting go of his hand in the process, suddenly he felt lost, he missed having his hand held, he realized. Without thinking, he reached for her hands, planning to hold them again. At the moment of his touch, her eyes flew open.

Suddenly she was awake, awake and aware, she shoved herself up to a sitting position, surprised apparent on her face, "Ishaan?" she questioned, "What are you doing here?"

He studied her silently, noticing how she was yet to realize how their hands were embedded to each others; it seemed it was a natural feeling to her.

He met her eyes questioningly, "Suhana?"

Her eyes widened as tears began to form, "you'remember?"

awesomee loved it and love suhana and ishaan they are soo cute...