Kabir didn't move for a long time.
He sat there, watching Dev sleep on the sofa—quiet, unguarded, nothing like the tense, hurt version of him from earlier.
Like this… Dev looked softer.
Younger, almost.
Real.
And that was what stayed with Kabir the most.
Not the almost-kiss.
Not the words.
But this—
the version of Dev that trusted him enough to fall apart in front of him.
Kabir leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees.
"You're not supposed to look like this," he murmured quietly.
A pause.
"Not because of me."
His gaze lingered.
On the way Dev's brows were still faintly drawn, even in sleep.
On the exhaustion he hadn't hidden well enough.
On the hurt Kabir had clearly seen—
and chosen to ignore.
Kabir exhaled slowly.
"I thought distance would fix this," he admitted under his breath.
A small, bitter realization settling in.
"It didn't."
It only made things worse.
For both of them.
Kabir leaned back, closing his eyes briefly.
Because the truth was no longer something he could avoid.
He wasn't protecting Dev.
He was hurting him.
Slowly.
Carefully.
But still—
hurting him.
And that wasn't something Kabir could accept.
Not anymore.
His eyes opened again, settling on Dev.
This time—
without hesitation.
Without denial.
"I like you," he said quietly.
The words felt heavier out loud.
Real.
Final.
"And I'm done pretending that I don't."
A long silence followed.
But it didn't feel conflicted anymore.
For the first time—
Kabir's thoughts felt clear.
Not easy.
But clear.
"I'll deal with everything else later," he added softly.
The consequences.
The complications.
The reality of it all.
None of that disappeared.
But for once—
he didn't want fear to decide everything.
Dev shifted slightly on the sofa, a faint frown crossing his face.
Kabir noticed immediately.
He stood, moving closer.
"Hey…" he said quietly. "Easy."
Dev didn't wake.
But his discomfort was obvious.
Kabir glanced at his shirt—
stained, slightly damp.
And then at his own sleeve.
He exhaled.
"Right," he muttered.
Carefully, Kabir helped Dev sit up just enough.
"Sorry," he said under his breath, more to himself than to Dev.
It wasn't easy.
Dev was half-conscious at best.
But Kabir managed.
Slowly.
Patiently.
He cleaned him up as best as he could—removing the discomfort, making sure he could rest properly.
Then—
after a moment's hesitation—
Kabir brought out a clean set of clothes.
Simple.
Comfortable.
Nothing that made the situation heavier than it already was.
"Just… don't remember this part," Kabir murmured faintly.
Not expecting an answer.
Not getting one.
Once Dev was settled, Kabir guided him carefully to the bed.
Pulled the blanket over him.
Adjusted it slightly.
Then stepped back.
Watching him again.
This time—
there was no confusion in Kabir's eyes.
Only decision.
"I'll tell you," he said quietly.
"Tomorrow."
And for the first time in days—
Kabir didn't feel like he was running away.
Morning
Dev woke slowly.
The light felt different.
Softer.
Unfamiliar.
He frowned slightly, blinking against it.
This wasn't his room.
That realization came first.
Then—
everything else followed.
He sat up abruptly.
And immediately froze.
Because he wasn't in his own bed.
He was in Kabir's.
And—
he looked down.
His breath caught.
He wasn't wearing his own clothes.
"What—"
The word barely came out.
His mind scrambled, trying to catch up.
Fragments of the night returned.
The dinner.
The drinks.
The corridor.
Kabir.
The conversation.
And then—
his chest tightened slightly—
the moment.
He remembered stepping closer.
Remembered almost—
Dev covered his face briefly.
"Oh god…"
Heat rushed up his neck instantly.
"What did I do…"
He quickly checked himself again, panic mixing with embarrassment.
Then—
footsteps.
Dev looked up immediately.
Kabir stood at the doorway.
Calm.
Composed.
But not distant.
Not like before.
"You're awake," Kabir said.
Dev sat there, frozen for a second.
Then—
"What happened?" he asked quickly.
His voice came out more rushed than he intended.
"My clothes—why am I—"
Kabir stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him.
"You were drunk," he said.
Simple.
Clear.
"You got sick."
Dev blinked.
"…I did?"
Kabir nodded.
"On yourself."
A pause.
Then, without changing tone—
"And on me."
Dev's eyes widened.
"Oh—"
He looked like he wanted the ground to disappear.
"I— I'm so sorry, I didn't—"
"It's fine," Kabir cut in, calm.
"I cleaned it."
Dev stared at him.
"You… what?"
Kabir held his gaze.
"You weren't in a state to do it yourself," he said.
"So I changed your clothes and put you to bed."
Silence.
Heavy.
But not tense in the same way as before.
Dev looked away quickly, embarrassed beyond words.
"I can't believe this," he muttered.
Kabir watched him.
And for the first time—
there was no distance in his expression.
Only something quieter.
Softer.
More certain.
Dev let out a breath, still avoiding eye contact.
"I remember… some things," he said carefully.
Kabir didn't interrupt.
Dev hesitated.
Then—
"I came to your door," he said.
A pause.
"And I think I said… things."
Kabir nodded once.
"You did."
Dev closed his eyes briefly.
"…Great."
Another silence.
But this one—
felt like it was leading somewhere.
Dev looked up slowly.
"And after that?" he asked.
Kabir held his gaze.
A brief pause.
Then—
"You should get some water first," he said.
Not an answer.
Not yet.
But not avoidance either.
Because this time—
Kabir wasn't running.
He was just choosing the right moment.