𝔽𝕀𝕃𝕆𝔽𝕆𝔹𝕀𝕊𝕂

𝕍𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔾𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕠𝕟

After helping Zinnia with the chores and spending some time with my girls, I drove to his apartment. The same apartment where we danced like we were non compos mentis and where we reunited for a journey that changed my life forever. A journey that was filled with euphoric moments that made me cross fingers on 'happily ever after' until Danish decided to choke me with his hidden bitter secrets. 

I took deep breaths to keep my tears at bay. The polished mahogany door of his house was enough for the memories to barge in savagely, making me all tear up, which I hated with the core of my being. 

Seriously, can my tears get a freaking break?!

I pressed the doorbell and waited for his arrival. A second bell followed as it took a few minutes to see the man I was longing to open the door. After waiting for another few minutes, I rang the bell for the third time and when I saw no response from the other side, I gave up and twisted the door handle, which to my surprise, was unlocked. I opened the door a bit and peered inside. There were no lights but the one coming from the balcony, which I assumed to be, that paved the way. 

"Danish," I called him out with the steps I took to his living room. "Dan," I called again to which I got silence as a reply. 

The whole atmosphere was kind of eerie with the lights off and quietude and hush. I followed the source of light and my assumption was right, it led me to the balcony. I entered the balcony and seeing a figure from the corner of my eyes, I turned to my left to see Danish who was catching some Zs on a long rocking chair. 

I smiled at his sleeping figure out of habit, the slightly parted lips and messy hair falling over his eyes. I stood for a few minutes at my spot, liking what I was seeing. But then, as my life hated seeing me smile for even a fraction of a second, my mind went back to where he screwed up everything. 

I tore my gaze from his angelic yet sinful face and took deep breaths to calm my nerves. After making sure I had regained my long lost composure, I walked towards him and called his name. As it was vain, I gently patted on his shoulder to which he squeezed his eyes in exasperation. He raised his head and looked at me through his droopy eyelids. Upon seeing me, he blinked and rubbed his eyes for a few seconds. I knew he couldn't believe that I was in flesh in front of him and that he might get confused between dream and reality. 

"Yeah, it's me for real. I'm right here," I said to which he looked at me sternly. "What?"

"Y-you...here...wh-why...how? Like wh-when you came? Who opened the door?" he stuttered and spewed nonsense to which I sighed.

"Are you high?" I asked to which he poked his chin out. "Are you high on weed or sleep Danish?" I asked again to which he shook his head.

"No. I'm fine."

"Good. Come inside," I said and turned my heels. "We need to talk."

He followed me to the kitchen like a lost puppy. His gestures were enough to prove that my presence was definitely an unexpected bombshell. We walked into his kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and took a bottle of water while Danish leaned on the marble slab behind me. 

I was no Medusa to have eyes behind my head but I couldn't be wrong if I said Danish had his eyes on me, not leaving from the moment he got up from his kip. But as usual, I shut my eyes to it. As I got a bottle and opened the cap, I took a look at him. 

As much as I hate to say this, he was a literal mess. His grown beard, disheveled hair that had visible knots and rumpled outfit of a grey shirt that was buttoned wrongly and a white trouser that had stains of coffee and whatnot. Maybe he noticed my eyes on his and that was why he went through his hair to set it up somehow pleasant.