The night was quieter than usual, the kind of silence that carries memories instead of peace. Sanskaar stood near the balcony, his hands resting on the cold railing as raindrops painted the glass. Below him, the city pulsed with life, but his world had stopped the moment Swara had walked away. Every light reminded him of her smile, every gust of wind whispered her name.
He had promised himself he wouldn’t think about her again, yet every promise dissolved the moment he closed his eyes. Her voice still echoed inside his head — calm, fierce, and heartbreakingly kind. “Sometimes love isn’t about staying. It’s about knowing when to walk away.”
But what if she had been wrong? What if walking away had only left them half alive?
Swara sat at her desk miles away, staring at a blank page in her diary. Her pen hovered, her heart unsure whether to bleed or to heal. It had been months, yet his absence felt heavier than ever. Every morning she told herself she had moved on; every night she betrayed that lie. Between lines of poetry and half-written letters, she found herself whispering the same words over and over — “I’m with you, Sanskaar. Even when you can’t see me.”
That evening, fate decided totest them again. The c harity event was crowded, full of laughter, applause, and people pretending they weren’t broken inside. Swara walked in wearing a soft pastel saree that caught every eye in the room — except one. Sanskaar’s. Because his gaze never left her.
The air between them changed the moment their eyes met. No greeting, no smile, just silence — the kind that says more than words ever could.
“How are you?” she asked finally, her voice polite but trembling.“Surviving,” he said after a pause. “But not living.”
They stood like strangers in a room full of noise, yet the world around them seemed to fade. He wanted to tell her everything — how every song still reminded him of her, how every dream ended with her name — but all he managed to whisper was, “You look... different.”
She smiled faintly. “I had to learn how to hide pain better.”
Outside, the first drops of rain began to fall. Swara excused herself from the crowd, walking toward the open terrace. Sanskaar followed, not out of habit but instinct — as if her soul still called him by name.
The rain fell harder, washing away the distance they had built. Swara turned as he reached her side, the wind playing with her hair, her eyes glistening in the dim light.
“You left without saying goodbye,” he said quietly.“You stopped listening,” she replied. “What was there left to say?”
For a long moment, they said nothing. The rain spoke for them. And then, Sanskaar stepped closer.
“I’m with you, Swara. No matter where you go. That’s one truth that won’t change.”
Her eyes softened, and for the first time in months, she let herself believe that maybe love didn’t always have to win — it just had to survive. She looked at him, her voice barely a whisper.
“Then don’t let go again.”
They stood together under the rain — not as the same people who once fell in love, but as two souls who had learned the cost of losing each other.
And somewhere in that moment, the storm outside became smaller than the one they carried inside.
The night was quieter than usual, the kind of silence that carries memories instead of peace. Sanskaar stood near the balcony, his hands resting on the cold railing as raindrops painted the glass. Below him, the city pulsed with life, but his world had stopped the moment Swara had walked away. Every light reminded him of her smile, every gust of wind whispered her name.
He had promised himself he wouldn’t think about her again, yet every promise dissolved the moment he closed his eyes. Her voice still echoed inside his head — calm, fierce, and heartbreakingly kind. “Sometimes love isn’t about staying. It’s about knowing when to walk away.”
But what if she had been wrong? What if walking away had only left them half alive?
Swara sat at her desk miles away, staring at a blank page in her diary. Her pen hovered, her heart unsure whether to bleed or to heal. It had been months, yet his absence felt heavier than ever. Every morning she told herself she had moved on; every night she betrayed that lie. Between lines of poetry and half-written letters, she found herself whispering the same words over and over — “I’m with you, Sanskaar. Even when you can’t see me.”
That evening, fate decided totest them again. The c harity event was crowded, full of laughter, applause, and people pretending they weren’t broken inside. Swara walked in wearing a soft pastel saree that caught every eye in the room — except one. Sanskaar’s. Because his gaze never left her.
The air between them changed the moment their eyes met. No greeting, no smile, just silence — the kind that says more than words ever could.
“How are you?” she asked finally, her voice polite but trembling.
“Surviving,” he said after a pause. “But not living.”
They stood like strangers in a room full of noise, yet the world around them seemed to fade. He wanted to tell her everything — how every song still reminded him of her, how every dream ended with her name — but all he managed to whisper was, “You look... different.”
She smiled faintly. “I had to learn how to hide pain better.”
Outside, the first drops of rain began to fall. Swara excused herself from the crowd, walking toward the open terrace. Sanskaar followed, not out of habit but instinct — as if her soul still called him by name.
The rain fell harder, washing away the distance they had built. Swara turned as he reached her side, the wind playing with her hair, her eyes glistening in the dim light.
“You left without saying goodbye,” he said quietly.
“You stopped listening,” she replied. “What was there left to say?”
For a long moment, they said nothing. The rain spoke for them. And then, Sanskaar stepped closer.
“I’m with you, Swara. No matter where you go. That’s one truth that won’t change.”
Her eyes softened, and for the first time in months, she let herself believe that maybe love didn’t always have to win — it just had to survive. She looked at him, her voice barely a whisper.
“Then don’t let go again.”
They stood together under the rain — not as the same people who once fell in love, but as two souls who had learned the cost of losing each other.
And somewhere in that moment, the storm outside became smaller than the one they carried inside.
Tags
couple
drama fanfiction
Fantasy Diaries Story
Indian Fiction Series
Swara Sanskaar Romance
Swasan Love Story
Swasan SS Episode 9