Professor Khan ✔️(completed)

11. b a a r i s h - Rain

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     Swirling in her chair, she stared out the window. The sun was hidden behind the clouds. The somber skies made her shiver for some reason. And then the first rain of the season had poured on them hard, as she sat in his office by the window. A week after she had the panic attack there.

     She had barely finished scanning the blog online when she heard the drops of the first rain against the window. She stood up from her desk and walked to the window. Making the world outside blurry and hazy, the drops flowed down the glass. She held on the warm cup of coffee as she stared at the world drenching in the first rain. 

     "Are you fascinated by the rain?" His voice was much closer. She hadn't heard him move. She slightly turned her head and he was staring out the window as well. 

     "No." She shook head. "I despise rain." She sighed bitterly.

     "Why?"

    "It's always been a carrier of bad news." She mumbled as she traced a drop at it ran down the window. 

     "Only if you see it that way." He took a sip from his own cup, savoring the taste of dark liquid as he sighed in content. She slightly turned her head his way. He was tall, towering over her even at a distance between them. "It's all about how you internalize your feelings regarding something." His statement reminded her of something else that he had said to her.

     Turning around, her back against the window, she leaned on it, coming face to face with him. 

     "Remember you said to look for something that I find comfort in?" Nodding, he stared back at her. She took a moment to stare back and completely take his look in. His blazer was replaced with a warm black coat, courtesy of the cold weather, but still, underneath she could see he had his pristine white dress shirt and a tie.

     Does he not own normal clothes or what?

     "I thought about it. Apart from books, there is not really something I'm attuned to."

     He took a moment to take her question in. Placing the cup on her work table, he put his hands in his pockets. Her eyes followed his calm and slow movements.

     "There are things in life you're naturally inclined to, for instance, books for you. Things that are your safe place, a place you find  yourself in or lose yourself into." Breaking the eye contact with her, he glanced outside the blurred window. "Then there are things you make a home for yourself because they grant you a space at some point of your life. So you give them new meanings even if they were something that brought chilling fear to your bones at one point. You find some better  meaning to associate it with."

     "Is it that easy?" She wondered. "Just to decide that something is home, something is not. Something is poison, something is a cure?"

     "No," he shook his head. "You just have to stop compromising with your fear. The more you let your fear have a say. The more it takes space and then one day all you have is fear. Fear of breathing. Fear of living. Fear of existing."

     And in that moment, she knew he wasn't with her anymore. He was somewhere far. So far that he might have come across the fears he had conquered once.

     "And Rain?" 

     She brought it back to where it started because of the way he was staring the pouring rain. As if he wanted to drink it in like a cure and burn it down at the same time. Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible. Scared that she would break the connection with him.