27) They'd die fighting for each other.

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"Tea?" Ahid asked few minutes after they both fumbled down on the couch planted in the palatial living room.

"Yes please!" She replied while her head rested on the head-rest, her eyes closed. They had eaten dinner outside tonight and had just gotten home.

"One cup for me please," he chirped and she turned her head towards him abruptly, letting out a soft chuckle afterwards, eventually shaking her head at him in amusement and heading towards the kitchen to brew up some tea.

As she put the kettle on stove, he stood up and informed her to bring tea in their bedroom since he'd be there once he had met Zeliha and Masooma.

The door creaked at being opened against its will as he turned the knob. Curled up peacefully under the cocoon of her warm quill with AC radiating cool air, was Masooma, her eyes closed, sleeping without any care in the world.

As a heart-warming smile reached his face while he drank in his mother's presence, slowly and stealthily, he tip toed towards her and dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Without making any unnecessary noise, he steadily turned the door-knob as soon as he got out of the heavenly room his maa exhibited.

His next stop was Zeliha's room as his charcoal polished shoes clanked against the pristine marble floor of the elongated corridor. With precisely calculated movement, he slightly knocked at the chestnut door standing as firm as ever.

"Yes?" It took him few seconds to retrieve an answer as Zeliha's decrepitate voice told him something was wrong.

As he pushed the door open, his glimmering eyes raved the figure perched up on the bed, flicking the drop of tear away from the corner of her eyes.

"Mom, what's wrong?" A perceptible crease formed on his forehead, giving away his fright at the premonition of what she was so sentimental about as he sat in front of her and held her soft hands. His heart was drowning at seeing the strongest woman he'd known his entire life crying.

"It's Ahsan." Her voice came out in muffled sobs as she looked up a bit.

"What? What about him? What happened?" Frightened at being listening to something he didn't want to, he swallowed the insides of his cheeks.

"No, nothing happened, Alhamdlillah!" Shaking her head, she divulged him abruptly and he let out a sigh of relief. "But what if, God forbids, something does happen?" She asked like a child who needed reassurance as the silky locks of her hair fluttered against the cool breeze streaming through the window.

"Nothing's gonna happen to him. He's your son, a fighter," giving the reassurance she craved for, he cupped her face with a minuscule smile but in vain.

"How can you say that? We have no idea where he is, in what condition. We just don't know anything."

Before he could say any word of solace, she gabbled again with deep oasis of darkness in her eyes that held only fright and ominous presumptions. "What if he had gotten caught?" Her eyes were arched up to an unnatural extend as she grabbed him by his biceps. "And what if he..."

"No, stop," not letting her say the horrific words that were going to make their way out of her mouth, he said with rigor.

"Don't we all pray for his safety, hun?" He asked, his face contorted cautiously, and she nodded. "Then how can something happen to him?"

But his comforting words were then soon followed by her worst nightmare. "But if something does happen."

"No no no." With a perpetual spurt of this word, she started shaking her head hysterically. But she had to be prepared in case it happens. She just had to.

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