Akhtar gets off work early one afternoon. He rushes to Ram's flat, intending to surprise him with an invitation to go riding together. His attention is immediately drawn to the bed, where Ram lies asleep, sweating through his shirt.
Akhtar rests a hand on Ram's forehead, testing for a fever. He's burning up. He wakes him gently with a kiss.
Ram blinks himself awake and his eyes lock with Akhtar's. He's sweating and flushed, embarrassed to be seen in such a state. Akhtar teases him for being such a man about it. "Everyone gets sick," he says, a tender smile accompanying the words.
Akhtar reaches for Ram's hands, pure instinct, unable to keep apart from him. He smiles again, overwhelmed with love for this man, intent on healing his pain. He reminds Ram how deeply he loves him, how no effort to help him heal would ever be too much, how lucky he feels to have this day free so he can tend to him.
He's about to pull away when Ram's grip tightens. He needs Akhtar, needs his touch, needs his closeness. They feel each other's love as heat between their hands, as thunder in their hearts, as a fresh breeze blowing through the window.
It's a moment that lasts an instant and an eternity. The breeze freshens the air around them as they sink into this eye contact, too tender to part. A sheen of tears marks the worry in Akhtar's eyes. He does not yet know what sickness this is, but he swears to heal it.