The Wind Blows and Flowers Dance | Spring Fiesta23

4. ...and cold meals.

After switching off the engine, Nasseem remained seated in his car, leaning back against the seat as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. The weight of the day's challenges lingered in his mind, causing him to stare at the steering wheel, contemplating the events that unfolded.

It had been an exhausting day, filled with frantic efforts to rectify a single mistake—a mere number—that had wreaked havoc on various aspects of his tasks. The frustration of having to run around, navigating through the aftermath of that one error, weighed heavily on his shoulders. Feeling the need to physically release the tension that had accumulated, he hopped out of the car and stretched his limbs.

With a deep exhale, Nasseem pushed the front door open.

As he entered the house, he was greeted by dimness, with only the faint glow of a quiet TV casting intermittent flickers of light. The stillness was broken by a gentle aroma wafting through the air, hinting at the presence of food. His stomach growled in protest, reminding him of its neglected state. It had been deprived lately, and he had to fix his eating habits before collapsing from malnourishment.

Leaving his shoes by the entrance, Nasseem walked further into the house. Then, his steps faltered when he noticed the pervasive absence of light and the eerie silence that enveloped the space. A frown formed on his face, for it was unusual to find the house devoid of any signs of activity. 

Normally, Zahra could be found in her room, engrossed in her own world, chatting with his sister on the phone, or occasionally in the kitchen, tending to the evening meal. However, tonight, there was no indication of her presence.

Quietly approaching the living room, he peeked around the corner. There, he discovered her sprawled across the couch, her body contorted in an awkward and seemingly uncomfortable position. It was evident that exhaustion had taken its toll, causing her to succumb to a deep slumber. Nasseem hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to rouse her from her sleep or let her rest undisturbed.

Shaking his head, he retreated. She'd be too embarrassed if he woke her up.

With his stomach still grumbling, Nasseem made his way to the kitchen to quieten his grumbling tummy. As he entered, his attention was drawn to a note resting on the countertop that read: 'Check the fridge'.

When he opened the refrigerator door, his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. Inside, he discovered a plate filled to the brim with the most appetizing spaghetti he had seen in quite some time. His mouth watered involuntarily at the sight of the delicious meal, and he noticed another note placed atop it. 

'Tastes better when just cooked, but I hope you enjoy it still.' 

He couldn't suppress his smile even as he heated it in the microwave. Glancing at her motionless figure, he pondered once more whether she would be irritable if he woke her up. Curiosity surged within him, urging him to find out, but he resisted and focused on his plate.

Perhaps, he would be the one embarrassed, not her.

🏵️🏵️🍃🏵️🏵️

Halfway through, his self-restraint waned. Nasseem couldn't help but wonder if she had eaten. After switching off the television, he approached her with a measured pace.

"Hey, Zahra," he called out, but she remained unresponsive. Undeterred, he made another attempt. His hesitant hand reached out and gently shook her shoulder. He noticed an unusual warmth radiating from her. Could it be the weather, or was it due to her prolonged sleep?

She stirred slightly, muttering incoherently.

"Hey, Zahra, wake up."

As she propped herself upright, she momentarily wavered but managed to regain her balance. "Hm, what?"