14 | dooriyan

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Udhar Wo Bad-Gumani Hai Idhar Ye Na-Tavani Hai
Na Pucha Jaaye Hai Us Se Na Bola Jaaye Hai Mujh Se

❧❧❧

Big fucking mistake.

He inhaled the sharp taste from the cigarette. He smoked in the hope that the acrid taste could overflow her bitter words and his fucking stupid mistake. He never did learn to read people, yet again the proof was slapped in his face. He exhaled the cloud of toxic fumes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Behind the clear contacts, the espresso colored eyes were soaked in throbbing ache.

The end of the cigarette turned in to ashes like the bits and pieces of the friendship he built with her. For a second he wanted to catch the fallen ashes, remembering Rapunzel, but then he let it go. It lay at his feet, defeated and discarded, just like what she had done with that penguin. Something within him made him feel disturbingly small that he wasn't good enough to be worthy of her friendship.

It was a fucking disaster trying to ignore her for the past couple of days. The fact that they were so intertwined through work made it nearly impossible. The blinds moved a little. He sucked on the cigarette a little too harshly when his eyes fell on Rapunzel. Her left hand was tangled in her dark auburn hair. The grey dupatta as usual had fallen on her shoulders as she wrote something down. Her nose scrunched up every time she paused to think. His left hand balled into fists watching her. Mujhe iss pe kyun ghussa aa raha hai, ghalti to meri hai?

He took his sullen gaze away turning around to watch the cunning city that was the cause of his destruction. Deceitful yet its beauty was ageless. A decade or so ago he was at the foot of this city, bruised and battered. When the beauty of this city blinded him so badly that he couldn't even see the path that led him to his self-destruction.

But there was a life before that destruction. A life he could no longer even call his own. Even when he was at the bottom of this city, he had abundance of everything. Colors, Faith, Happiness, and Family. Now, he was here at the top of his city, above all his destruction. If he wanted to, he could own this beautiful nightmare, but the fact would still remain that it was a nightmare. The city that took everything from him the moment he stepped foot in it.

Now that he was above all, he was empty. His heart was empty. His faith was shallow. He had no loyalty neither to his faith nor to himself. The only thing within him that existed along with toxic nicotine was the fucking need to bring Saeed building down to ashes as he watched the high rise with his cold dark eyes.


"Ali Sir?"

The softness of her two words disturbed the ugliness he was drowning himself in.

"Yes, Miss Laila?" He leaned against the glass. Her glassy eyes snapped his way. How the fuck was she so cold? How did he not see that before?

"The presentation for the conference is ready. If you can please go over it and approve it before I send it for the copies."

The silence was too long between them. It was blank, unlike the sarcasm she had last week. Unlike her snappy replies and witty comebacks. The rust-colored eyes were vacant of any emotions, everything amusing, angry, and even cordial washed away like the feeble grains of sand along with the angry waves.

"Sure."

He watched her. The gray fabric flowing softly around her like a symphony. The ponytail of coppery flames, as usual, danced under the gray fabric. The ballet flats carried her in soft steps towards him. He didn't understand what he was looking for, but his eyes stayed on her. Maybe that one friend he thought he had. What a fucking illusion.

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