Love isn't always butterflies and pounding hearts. Love can also lie, deceive and betray.
Her way of seeing the world was a lot different from his. She was broken with open wounds, standing high on her throne and giving no damn to the world. A stron...
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Seven– almost eight years. They had Abbas tail Ayat for eight years and had him do so many things for them when they thought he was responsible only for sending those boxes and messages. Fayd's blood had turned cold and he had been pale from the time he learned that from Abbas. Fayd threw the pen he fiddled with in his hands and pushed himself off his chair, curling the paper he scrawled on and aiming it on the trash can. He hissed when it missed the can and went flying behind the can. The wind chime that his sister had hung on his window chimed, grabbing his immediate attention and before he could even realize, he walked closer to it, taking it in his grab and watching it closely. The slow rhythms that it made opened the knots in his stomach, allowing him to take breaths of ease.
The day had twisted him in places where recovering and healing weren't nearly close. Things that he found out and things that made him want to plunge further into it. A hope- a small hope birthed in him when he found out the man was Abbas but Khalid sahb buying him a job in her chacha's company wasn't a turn he thought it would take. Ayat would be left shattered to know that her father's brother was involved in the matter. Ayat would have nothing to hold on to live and he wouldn't forgive himself for it. Ugly truths piled one upon another making him lose the belief in humanity once again.
When he was a kid, a group of dominant white teenagers slit his hand with a piece of infested glass that left him bleeding for months. When he was found, he was found with the glass lying next to him– the same glass that he ripped off his flesh after suffering from pain for almost twelve hours. The cut was so deep that it stayed with him. Coming to know of too many things induced the same pain as the past. The pain that staked him whenever he saw the scar crawling onto his skin instead of fading away. The buttering slowly wore off as reality started to make sense that the wound– scar was his lifetime companion and slowly acceptance birthed in him because if he didn't accept him as he was, no one else would.
"Fayd," He turned around to Isaa who had just walked through the door, carrying an impatient look on his face. Fayd had no one except Isaa to talk about it now that he was making plans to send Sayrah back to Pakistan, "Tell me you're lying." He croaked out.
"Yes, I was because I was missing you." Fayd rolled his eyes and straightened, taking a step closer to the window and watching out at the road.
"I bet you did." Isaa grumbled, taking Fayd's seat after collecting the balled up papers near the dustbin and knowing he was up to something, he couldn't help himself but to take them to take a look into the disheveled pieces of his mind because that would do anything but explain.
"What are you doing here?"
"I figured you owe me an explanation after calling me to eat my head?" Isaa chuckled, straightening up and picking up the packets Fayd had laid on the table, reviewing them. It pricked– the papers and the reports he had written pricked his eyes as he went through one after another. Everything pointed at one thing and he willed not to say it aloud. Maybe he was a coward was all.
