"Are you allergic to the sun?"
"No, just enchanted by the night."
Shakirat Asad, or simply Kira, has been enraptured by history and consumed by untold stories. Now an international student hellbent on finishing her last semester for her master's deg...
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╒═════ ☽【☥】☾ ═════╕ Chapter Two ╘═════ ☽【☥】☾ ═════╛
The airport was alive with energy as people of all different shapes and sizes ventured into the unknown. Shakirat had never had a good experience with flying, no matter what airline or aircraft. Either the flight was full of turbulence or the plane had a malfunction raising the stakes just a little higher, it didn't matter. Shakirat expected this flight to be no different. She concluded that she had bad luck, leaving her only with anxiety at having to leave her chances in the hands of a total stranger.
She pulled her hair up into a high bun as she looked around at all the people waiting at her terminal. At first, she had succeeded at distracting herself, guessing as to why people were waiting for the next flight to London. There was an old couple huddled together waving into a phone screen while wishing the people on the other end well. In another row, a group of boys was making way too much noise for their good, while holding up a silver cup from some tournament.
When one of the boys spotted Shakirat's stare he sent a wink in her direction. Shakirat responded with a roll of her eyes and held a copy of the New York Times in front of her face. The cover had a revived picture of the Declaration of Independence on it and Shakirat couldn't help but be fascinated at one day getting to see the artifact up close. She turned the page to find an article on all the newly discovered archaeological discoveries, finding every single page fascinating.
"Anything interesting?"
Shakirat almost dropped the magazine in her hands as she looked up to find her long-time crush, Doctor Percy Rogers, beaming down at her. His cropped hair from his time in school had grown into a gracious mop that framed his freckled face. His circle spectacles illuminated the crinkles in his eyes as he swooped down to kiss her cheek. Shakirat smiled as she motioned for him to take the seat beside her, which he did so with zero hesitation.
"It's been so long," Percy said as he set his briefcase on his lap. "Tell me, how have you been?"
Shakirat turned her body toward him, as she answered, "Life's been wild, but all of it has been good, Percy. Just enjoying my last taste of freedom before diving deep into my dissertation this fall."
Percy chuckled slightly as he shook his head, "I don't envy you. I still have nightmares about all the overnights I did. No amount of preparation is enough, but I know it won't stop you from doing well. Have you chosen a topic yet?"
Shakirat nodded her head, practically bursting at the seams with ideas, "I was speaking with my counselor at Cambridge and I think I'm going to focus on victims of genocide through history. Specifically, the new identification process that is still being researched and implemented everywhere, including Mesoamerica."
