INT. HOSPITAL ROOM – NIGHT
The rain drums softly on the glass window. A monitor beeps steadily beside Saif, now partially sitting up in bed, lost in his own thoughts.
His fingers brush the edge of the blanket.
Then freeze.
A memory returns — sudden, sharp, and glowing.
---
FLASHBACK – EXT. KANYAKUMARI – RAINY NIGHT – TEN YEARS AGO
The streets of Kanyakumari were slick with rain. The crashing sea roared in the distance. Locals hurried under umbrellas, the wind tugging at their clothes.
Saif, 21 years old, reckless, on a stolen bike, was speeding down the narrow wet road — angry, bleeding, and barely holding onto the handle.
Then—
Headlights.
A turn he didn't see.
A small white car.
Impact.
CRASH.
Metal on metal. Glass shattering. A body thrown.
Chaos. Silence. Screams.
---
EXT. SIDE OF THE ROAD – MOMENTS LATER
Rain soaked the cracked pavement.
Saif lay motionless, a cut above his brow bleeding heavily. His leg twisted at an odd angle.
A woman crawled out of the crushed white car, blood running down her temple — limping, dazed, but breathing.
It was Mahi. Just 20. A medical intern.
Despite her own bleeding arm, gashed forehead, and trembling body — she dragged herself toward him.
MAHI (shouting):
"Hey! You—open your eyes! Can you hear me?"
SAIF (blinking):
"Wha...?"
MAHI (commanding):
"Don't move. You're bleeding from your leg. I need to stop it."
She ripped her dupatta without hesitation and tied a makeshift tourniquet around his thigh. Her hands were trembling. Her own clothes torn. Her knee bleeding badly.
A bystander ran to help.
BYSTANDER:
"Madam! You're injured — sit down, we'll call an ambulance—"
MAHI (firm):
"Leave me! Help HIM!"
She pressed her palm hard against Saif's wound, using her own weight to stop the bleeding.
SAIF (hoarse):
"You… you're bleeding…"
MAHI (meeting his eyes):
"You're worse. I'll live. Just hold on."
SAIF (murmuring):
"…Why?"
MAHI (softly):
"Because that's what you do when someone's life is slipping through your fingers. You hold on. You don't look away."
He stared at her through the haze of pain and blood.
That face — fierce and calm.
That voice — steady through the storm.
That fire — blazing despite her own wounds.
Right then, Saif's heart twisted.
Not from the accident.
From something deeper.
He had never seen anyone like her.
And he never would again.
---
BACK TO PRESENT – INT. HOSPITAL ROOM
Saif wipes a stray tear from the corner of his eye.
Not weakness — memory.
He gazes at the flowers by his bedside, left by the same woman.
SAIF (whispering):
"Ten years ago… you saved me when I didn't deserve to be saved.
You bled for a stranger and smiled through the pain."
His voice breaks into silence.
SAIF:
"I fell for you that night, Mahi. And I never climbed back out."
Saif: The way you hold me
FLASHBACK – EXT. KANYAKUMARI ROAD – NIGHT OF THE ACCIDENT
Rain falls harder now. Wind howls between palm trees. The accident scene is chaos — shattered glass, a bent bike, a crumpled white car.
Saif, lying on the wet asphalt, blinks against the blood trickling into his eye. He can barely move. His vision swims.
But then — she comes into focus.
Mahi.
Clothes torn, her forehead bleeding, left hand trembling.
But she moves with purpose.
She kneels beside him in the pouring rain, her braid clinging to her neck, soaked to the bone, blood soaking her sleeve.
Yet her eyes — sharp, calm, determined.
SAIF (groggy, whispering):
"…You're hurt…"
MAHI (pressing gauze to his wound):
"Stay still. You've lost a lot of blood."
SAIF:
"But you…"
She rips more cloth from her scarf and ties another bandage around his thigh. The cut on her own arm bleeds freely — she doesn't even look at it.
MAHI (focused):
"Pain can wait. You can't."
---
SAIF'S POV – THROUGH FADING VISION
He watches her in awe, chest rising and falling, blinking rain out of her eyes. No fear. No self-pity. Just care.
He expected fear. Screaming. Panic.
But she was made of something else.
Strength. Steel. Grace.
The way she leaned over him, blood streaked down her cheek, lips pressed together in focus — she looked almost unreal.
SAIF (to himself, dazed):
"How can someone look like a storm… and still feel like peace?"
Even the way she cursed under her breath when the gauze slipped, or how she clutched her ribs after standing — it was human.
It was real.
It was beautiful.
Not the kind of beauty that fades in the mirror.
The kind that stays etched in the soul.
---
BACK TO THE MOMENT
She leaned close again, brushing his damp hair off his forehead.
MAHI (softly, almost whispering):
"You'll be okay, alright? I'm not letting you go."
He couldn't respond.
His throat tight.
His heart louder than the sirens approaching.
In that one minute —
Rain pouring.
Wounds open.
Darkness surrounding them —
Saif saw what no one else ever saw:
That the most beautiful part of Mahi…
Was not her face.
It was her heart.
And in that broken, rain-soaked moment,
He knew—
He would never love anyone else.