On Monday my boyfriend of 4 years broke up with me. Ever since I’ve felt extremely depressed so I had decided to make some self ship art of me and Rohan to cheer myself up. I also wrote a short oneshot to help as well.
Oneshot is below the photo if you’d like to read it!
The light rain began to fall just as I turned the corner onto the quiet street leading to Rohan’s house. I hadn’t planned to come here—it was instinct more than anything. After the breakup, my thoughts had been a chaotic storm, and my feet had simply carried me somewhere familiar, somewhere safe.
The sky was a dull gray, mirroring the heaviness in my chest. I stood at his door, hesitating. What was I even doing here? I didn’t want to bother him with my problems, he hates when people bother him. But before I could turn away, the door opened, revealing Rohan’s familiar sharp features.
“You look like a drowned cat,” he said in his usual unwavering tone as he stared down at me.
“Sorry,” I muttered, shivering slightly. “I didn’t mean to… I can go if you—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he interrupted, stepping aside. “Come in before you catch a cold.”
I stepped inside, the warmth of his home wrapping around me like a blanket. He handed me a towel, and I dabbed at my damp hair and clothes, still unsure how to explain my sudden appearance. Rohan didn’t press me, instead disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a steaming cup of tea. He set it down on the coffee table and gestured for me to sit.
“Now,” he said, sitting across from me, his piercing eyes softening slightly, “what’s wrong? I can tell something is on your mind.”
The question was simple, but it unraveled me completely. My lips trembled as I tried to form a coherent sentence, but all that came out was a shaky, “It’s over.”
Rohan’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he leaned forward slightly. “What’s over?”
“Everything,” I whispered, tears spilling over despite my best efforts to hold them back. “After 4 years together he broke up with me.”
For a moment, Rohan said nothing. Then, without warning, he moved to sit beside me. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close. My eyes widened a bit as I stiffened, not used to such open gestures of comfort from him, but his warmth and steady presence made it impossible to resist. I let myself lean into him, my tears soaking into his shirt.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “Please don’t cry.”
His words, so simple yet heartfelt, cracked the fragile wall I had built around my emotions. I clung to him, the sobs wracking my body as I let out all the pain and frustration I’d been holding in. Rohan didn’t flinch or pull away; he just held me, his hand gently running up and down my back in a soothing motion.
When the storm of tears finally subsided, I pulled back slightly, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Stop apologizing,” he said firmly, tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. “You’re allowed to feel hurt. But you’re stronger than you think, and you’ll get through this. You have me, after all. I’m not stupid so I’m not going anywhere.”
The sincerity in his voice left me momentarily speechless. I nodded, a small, tentative smile forming on my lips. “Thank you, Rohan. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
His overly confident smirk returned to his face, proud of the fact he had made me smile. “You’d be utterly lost, obviously.”
I laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in days. For the first time, the ache in my chest didn’t feel so overwhelming. Rohan stayed by my side that evening, and though the pain hadn’t completely disappeared, I felt like I could breathe again. With him there, maybe—just maybe—everything really would be okay.
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