Whispers in the Chatroom

The house was dim now. The chanting had faded. The guests had gone. Their mother slept soundly in her room. The air carried the scent of camphor and something heavier — a tension neither Medha nor Ankit could explain, much less erase.

He stood near her door, ready to leave. Medha leaned on the wall, arms folded, chewing at her lip — that old childhood habit he remembered too well.

Medha:
“You won’t come here again for a while, will you?”

Ankit: (sighs)
“I need space. To think. To… untangle this.”

Medha: (softly)
“Will ignoring it help?”

Ankit:
“No. But pretending we’re just fine might break me.”

Medha: (a long pause)
“What if we didn’t pretend? What if we just… kept talking?”

Ankit:
“Talking?”

Medha:
“In that room. The chat. Where we first met as strangers. Where you were just Monk29. And I was SilverDust. No family. No labels.”

Ankit:
“That room gave us comfort because we didn’t know. Now we do.”

Medha:
“Yes. And we still miss it. That space. That ease. That release.”

He looked at her sharply at the last word. She didn’t flinch.

Medha:
“I’m not saying we flirt again. Or cross lines.
But life outside that room is heavy. I feel like I’m always carrying expectations — grades, marriage pressure, being perfect.”

Ankit: (nods slowly)
“And I carry silence. At work. At home. Every failed relationship left something broken inside me.”

They stood in that silence — no words, only understanding.

Medha:
“So maybe… we don’t kill the only place that made us feel free.
Maybe we keep that chat.
Not to break rules — but to survive.”

Ankit:
“To survive.” (echoes it like a test in his mouth)
“But we set rules.”

Medha:
“Strict ones.”

Ankit:
“No video. No pictures.”

Medha: (nods)
“No personal details.”

Ankit:
“We speak only as Monk29 and SilverDust. Never as… bhaiya and Medha.”

Her eyes shimmered for a moment, but she nodded.

Medha:
“We hold that space. Safe. Honest. But controlled.”

Ankit:
“We talk. Vent. Escape.
And if it ever crosses the line again…”

Medha:
“We stop. Immediately.”

They stood in silence again.

Medha: (quietly)
“You won’t say goodbye?”

Ankit:
“No. I’ll say ‘see you tonight.’”

A tiny smile curved her lips — bittersweet, cautious, but real.


Later That Night | The Chatroom

SilverDust:
You made it.

Monk29:
I said I would.

SilverDust:
Ground rules remembered?

Monk29:
Fully. Strict monk mode activated.

SilverDust:
(smiling at her screen)
Good. Because I really need to scream about my Finance professor.

Monk29:
Hit me. I’m all ears.

And just like that…
They stepped back into the bubble.

Same place. Same usernames.

But this time — the weight of truth between them was undeniable.


Undone – Part 15: Daily Sins, Small Heals

[Chatroom – Day 24]

SilverDust:
Today I nearly slapped a guy on campus.

Monk29:
😂 What did he do?

SilverDust:
Called me “item” in front of his friends. I told him my brain’s too expensive for his vocabulary.

Monk29:
👏 10/10 burn.

SilverDust:
You?

Monk29:
Spent 3 hours in a client meeting. Spoke for 10 minutes. Smiled for 2. Died inside for 148.

SilverDust:
Lmao. Corporate trauma is your kink, clearly.

Monk29:
Only masochists go to office after 2020.

Please wait…
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