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"What are you doing in here? How are you here? Who let you in? Why are you here?" The questions seemed to slide out of Daniyal's mouth and I started getting a bit worried because I would love to know the answers to half of them too.

I hear the now too familiar silken voice in my ears and flinch. But there is no one there.

So she can speak inside my head now, because why not?

"You are here for the project that you were given at school. For English Lit."

How could I forget? Senior year, Hamlet review. Last time though, I can vividly remember Daniyal wearing a shirt.

"Can you please put on a shirt?" I ask in a bashful manner as my eyes unknowingly skirt down his bare torso but flick back to his face as my cheeks turn beet.

He wasn't very buff or muscly like some of the other boys but the muscles were surely defined on his thin frame and his skin was coppery making him appealing in an exotic way with his ink-black hair that always fell in curls above his hazel eyes and his pink lips that never seemed to crack, even in the cold breeze if our town.

"I forgot about that," he says and flushes as he turns to wildly grab a shirt from his dresser.

That's when I notice it.

The bruises.

"Daniyal what is that on your back?" I ask cautiously. His back has two bluish bruises, one near the small of his back and one between his shoulder blade.

I suddenly feel uncomfortable in my seat and get up slowly walking towards him, almost as if in a trance.

He quickly whips to his front and hastily tugs on his plain white t-shirt.

"It's nothing," there is no trace of playfulness in his manner and I can hear the silent drop it in his gaze.

I am bubbling with curiosity and I want to ask him about it, prod him more but now barely seems like the time.

Rule one in detective stories, never waste questions in a situation where they won't be answered.

"Why are you here again?" His words are arrogant but his warmth is seeping in through the cold.

"Well, don't you remember our English project?"

I cross my fingers mentally hoping that this wasn't some sick joke Hylia was trying to play on me.

He groans and rubs an arm across his face.

"Ugh...I actually forgot about that," he admits.

"Sit here, I'll bring my bag," he goes through the door then comes back through the door "do you want tea and biscuits?"

"I would like that," I say in a dismissing manner because I already have something that has caught my eye.

It seems like a paper that is filled with writing from top to bottom and it just sits there with its end sticking out from his desk.

Daniyal leaves and I quickly spring into action. I feel like a monster for going through his stuff but I am currently valuing his life above his privacy.

I still hesitate and that moment of reluctance might cost me too much.

The only words I caught at the end of the page were

Remember me,
Daniyal Amer.

I was about to inch closer when Daniyal entered the room and in the flurry of panic, I grabbed the photo frame on his desk to show that I wasn't snooping around.

It was a picture of two little children, a girl and a boy, standing hands around each other's shoulders and broad smiles gracing their faces. The boy I recognised as young Daniyal, hollowed cheeks, midnight black hair and innocence lacing his smile.

The girl with him vaguely resembled him, the same pink lips, ink curls and bone structure. The only thing that made her different was her smile. It was beautiful. It was a knowing toothy smile and her eyes sparkled with so much joy and life I thought I was there next to her.

I look back at Daniyal and he has gone completely stiff, back rigid and eyes staring straight ahead, not looking at me.

"Who is she? I don't think I have met her," I say and then mentally kick myself in the shin.

Of course, you go ahead and ask him something he clearly doesn't want to listen to...great work, Ms. Marple!

Shut up!  I chide myself. I need to stop my conscience from acting like this.

His gaze that is piercing the tree outside the house softens and his lips lift up from his scowl.

"She is something I will always regret," he says in his smooth voice.

So till now, I know Daniyal has mysterious bruises, he doesn't smile much when he is not at school and has something to hide.

In conclusion, I have no idea what made him take the leap.

The only lead I had was the letter on his desk but I can't just pluck it out of the clutter and start reading it.

"Listen, Laura," he starts and my head snaps away from the picture and back to the older Daniyal, "can we do this some other time? I am not feeling quite up to it," he says and though he might not have said it but I know he was politely asking me to get lost.

I know when to take a hint so I quickly nod and make my way outside.

When I reach the bottom step I look back to his room which is on top of the stairs and he is sitting on his bed with his head in his hands.

This boy has been my neighbour since second grade but it is today that I actually get to know that there is more to him than ever ready smiles.

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A/n: I updated twice today and I feel so proud! Also, tell me if you find any error and I'll fix it!

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