Between Heartbeats
Prologue
[Scene: City Hospital | 10:42 PM | Heavy Rain Outside]
The sky had been weeping for hours.
Dark clouds hung low over the city — restless, heavy, as if mourning something unseen.
Shanaya Kapoor pushed through the hospital doors — drenched, shivering, and breathless. Her dupatta clung to her arms, her hair plastered to her face. Every step she took echoed her fear — please let him be fine.
The smell of antiseptic hit her nose. Her heart thudded harder.
Rain dripped from her fingertips as she reached the reception desk.
Receptionist
Ma’am, patient’s name?
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
Kabir Kapoor. My brother. He meet with an accident near Patel Nagar.
The receptionist typed quickly and nodded toward the emergency ward.
Receptionist
Third door to the left, ma’am. The attending doctor will brief you.
Her hands trembled as she ran. The corridor lights were cold, flickering, and the rain beat furiously against the glass windows.
Then the door opened.
Mask around his neck.
White coat slightly wrinkled.
A clipboard in one hand — and the same calm eyes that once looked at her like she was the only chaos he ever wanted.
The years hadn’t changed that gaze.
But it had gathered silence — and maybe regret
Their eyes met.
The world froze.
Not in silence — but in the thunder between heartbeats.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(barely a whisper) Aarav...?
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(stunned) Shanaya...?
A pause.
The kind that holds too much history to fit into words.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
Your brother’s stable now. Just a few stitches.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
He’ll need to rest for a week before we remove them.
No fractures, no internal injuries. He was lucky
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(relieved, voice trembling) Thank God...
Thank you... doctor.
The word slipped out naturally — but it hurt.
That word carried years of distance.
Once, she’d called him “Aaru.” Now it was “Doctor.”
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(softly) You should get him some light food tomorrow. He’ll wake up by morning.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(nodding slowly) I will.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(Her voice cracked, but she forced a smile — the polite kind you give strangers who once knew every piece of your heart.)
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
*She still tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s nervous.
Still bites her lip when she wants to say something but doesn’t.
Still makes the world pause when she looks up*
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
*He still stands the same way — hands in pocket, calm, unreadable.
As if nothing could touch him... not even the rain that once bound us together.*
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
Tum bina kuch kahe chale gaye the, Aarav. (You left without saying anything, Aarav.)
Na koi call... na koi message. (No call, no message.)
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(looks away) Us raat med school ka call aaya tha. (I got the med school call that night.)
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
I thought… silence would be kinder than goodbye
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(half-smiling, half-breaking) Galat socha tumne. (You were wrong.)
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
Main intezaar karti rahi... har din. (I waited... every single day.)
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
For a goodbye that never came.
The hallway felt heavier than the rain outside.
Machines beeped softly behind them, and the smell of sanitizer filled the air — but all Shanaya could feel was the weight of old promises that never made it to tomorrow.
Aarav’s expression softened. His eyes — calm yet glassy — held something she didn’t want to see: remorse.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, folded note — edges worn, paper yellowed with time.)
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
I wrote this... the night I left.
Read it when you’re alone.
Shanaya hesitated — then took it. Their fingers brushed.
That single touch was enough.
Every wall she’d built for years trembled in that one heartbeat.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(She unfolded it carefully. The ink had faded, but the words hadn’t.)
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
“I didn’t have the courage to choose us.
But in every heartbeat since, it’s still been you.”
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(She blinked hard, but the tears came anyway)
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
Tum ab bhi likhte ho notes? (Do you still write notes?)
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(gentle smile) Sirf unke liye... jinke liye dil kabhi rukta nahi. (Only for the ones my heart never stopped beating for.)
And there it was again — the ache that never healed.
The one she tried to drown in deadlines, coffee cups, and old poetry drafts.
But one look at him, and it all came rushing back.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(She stared at him — tall, calm, with the faintest smile that almost looked like regret.
The man who once promised forever now stood a few feet away, holding a clipboard instead of her hand.)
Nurse
Doctor Rathore, Ward 5 is calling.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(nods) I’ll be there.
(turns to Shanaya) Your brother’s room is 203. He’ll wake up soon.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
Thank you, Aarav.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(He paused at the door, turned back for one last glance, and left.
And with him — the room felt colder.)
Shanaya walked to Room 203, heart heavy but oddly calm.
Kabir lay asleep, bandaged but breathing steadily. Relief washed over her like the first sunlight after a storm.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(She sat beside him, brushed his hair from his forehead, and whispered) —
“Tu theek hai na, pagle? Mujhe dara diya tha.” (You scared me, idiot.)
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(Her phone buzzed —)
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
📲Shan, any update? I’m worried.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
📲He’s fine, Myra. Just a few stitches.
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
📲Thank God! And you? You sound off.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
📲I saw him today.
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
📲Him...? Wait— Aarav?
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
📲Oh. Damn.
There wasn’t much else to say.
Because some names don’t need explanations — they already carry the whole story.
She leaned back in the chair, staring at the note again.
Rain tapped against the window.
Somewhere outside, thunder rolled softly, as if echoing the heartbeat she didn’t want to acknowledge.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(The paper trembled in her hand, and before she knew it —
one tear fell on the faded words.)
And just like that, all her strength melted into that small hospital room.
Because sometimes… love doesn’t end.
It just hides.
author
Hey everyone 💙
Thank you so much for reading Between Heartbeats. This is my very first chat story, so please forgive any tiny mistakes — English isn’t my first language, but emotions are universal, right?
I hope you felt Shanaya and Aarav’s reunion in your heart as much as I did while writing it.
Character Aesthetic
Age: 24
Profession: Freelance journalist & part-time writer for an online magazine.
Personality: Sensitive, witty, and fiercely loyal. Stubborn when it comes to those she loves. Strong on the outside, soft within.
Traits: Writes poetry, loves rain, coffee addict ☕, still keeps Aarav’s old note folded in her diary.
Background: Lives in Delhi with her mother and younger brother. Lost her father at 16 — a loss that made her grow up too soon.
Love Story: Aarav Singh Rathore was her school senior — her first love, her deepest heartbreak.
Quote: “Some goodbyes don’t break you… they quietly stay with you, waiting to be rewritten.”
Age: 26
Profession: Cardiothoracic Surgeon — known for his precision, calm, and quiet intensity.
Personality: Composed, emotionally guarded, and guilt-ridden but deeply kind. Finds solace in silence and late-night drives.
Background: Belongs to a respected medical family in Udaipur. Shifted to Delhi for his internship and now works at CityCare Hospital.
Love Story: Fell for Shanaya in school — she brought color to his disciplined, rule-bound life. Left abruptly for med school abroad, believing that silence would hurt less than goodbye.
Quote: “Every time I hold a heartbeat in my hands, I wonder if yours still remembers mine.”
Episode 1
[Scene: CityCare Hospital – Morning after the accident]
The rain had slowed, leaving soft droplets sliding down the window like leftover tears.
Shanaya sat beside Kabir’s bed, brushing his hair away from his forehead. Machines hummed softly around her — the kind of white noise that matched her racing thoughts.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
*📱 Phone Buzzes*
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
📲How’s Kabir now?
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
📲Stable. Doctor said the stitches will come off next week.
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
📲Doctor Aarav Singh Rathore, right? 👀
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
📲Don’t “Myra” me! You met him after all these years?! That’s a literally movie plot!
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
📲If it’s a movie, then I’d ask the writer to change the ending.
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
📲Or maybe… write a new one?
Shanaya sighed. Her eyes wandered to the window — grey clouds outside, like unfinished conversations.
[Door Opens — Footsteps Echo Softly]
Aarav entered. White coat. Calm voice. Stillness that could silence a room.
He checked Kabir’s chart, his movements precise — practiced.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
Morning. How’s he doing?
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
“Sleeping peacefully. The meds worked.”
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
Good. He’ll need a week of rest before we remove the stitches.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
Thank you, Doctor
That word — Doctor.
Cold. Formal. But necessary.
She used it like armor.
Aarav paused, looking at her — almost smiling.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
You still have that look when you’re overthinking.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(startled) You still notice?
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(softly) Hard to unlearn.
The air thickened.
For a second, it wasn’t a hospital anymore — it was that quiet school library where everything had begun.
[Flashback – 7 years ago | School Library]
Rain outside.
A 9th grader sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by novels. Her name — Shanaya Kapoor. Too curious for her own good, always whispering too loud for a library.
Across the aisle, a boy in 11th — tall, quiet, serious. Prefect badge shining.
Aarav Singh Rathore.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
Excuse me… can you reach that book for me?
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(without looking up) You’re standing on a chair.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(grinning) Still not tall enough. Life’s cruel like that.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(sighs, gets the book) You read this kind of stuff?
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
I feel this kind of stuff.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
You’re too young to understand it.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
And you are too cold to understand
He had smiled then — just slightly.
She never forgot that smile.
[Back to Present – Hospital Room]
Aarav finished writing on Kabir’s chart and placed it neatly on the table.
When he turned, she was already looking at him — as if the years hadn’t passed at all.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
You still keep your diary?
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
You still remember
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
Hard to forget the girl who used to write poems about library dust and falling rain.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(She laughed under her breath — a sound that almost broke him.)
[Flashback – School Canteen | Her 10th, His 12th]
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
You’re seriously writing him notes again?
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
They’re not love letters! Just… poetic observations.
Myra Arora (fl bestie)
Right. Totally not love letters.
Shanaya smiled and tucked a folded note under Aarav’s textbook during break.
*𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙,
𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 — 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙚*
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(That day, he didn’t reply.)
But the next morning, she found the same note in her locker, with new words beneath — written in his neat, steady hand.
*𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙢𝙨, 𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙮𝙖.
𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮*
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(She’d stared at it for a long time.
Half confused, half heartbroken — not realizing how true that line would one day become.)
[Back to Present – Hospital Corridor]
Aarav stepped out of Kabir’s room. Shanaya followed, her footsteps hesitant.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
You really just left... without saying anything?
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(quietly) Med school called that night. I thought if I saw you before leaving, I’d never go.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
And silence was easier?
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
It was the only way I knew to not break completely.
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(voice trembling) You broke me anyway.
Aarav Singh Rathore (ml)
(after a pause) And I’ve been fixing hearts ever since.
The irony wasn’t lost on either of them.
[Later That Night – Hospital Cafeteria]
The rain had stopped.
Shanaya sat alone, untouched coffee cooling beside her.
Every sound — the faint buzz of lights, the clink of cups, the rhythm of footsteps — felt distant, like a fading echo.
She opened her diary. Between old poetry pages, one note slipped out — yellowed, edges torn.
Aarav’s handwriting stared back at her.
*𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙪𝙨.
𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪*
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(She traced the letters, her fingers trembling slightly.)
Shanaya Kapoor (fl)
(softly)Maybe… we were never meant to end. Just pause.
The monitor beeped softly in rhythm with Kabir’s pulse.
Outside the room, Dr. Aarav Singh Rathore stood by the glass wall — silent, unreadable — watching her silhouette in the dim light.
Their eyes didn’t meet this time…
But maybe their hearts did.
Between heartbeats. 💞
author
Hey everyone 💞
I hope you’re enjoying Between Heartbeats!
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