Where is the real you? All of you? Too much here. Too much there.

— Marina Tsvetaeva

The sky is cloudy and each of her breaths mists in the air as she walks past the gates of his house inside. The drizzle is light but cold and biting. This isn't a night for the sky to be peppered with stardust after all.

Their houses are opposite to each other's with only a road separating them, so she didn't have a problem coming here. But given the hour of the night, she knows it is inappropriate to be meeting him now. Although tomorrow he's leaving for the capital for work and she couldn't delay the awaiting conversation anymore. She has already taken her decision and is sure of it.

A few of his servants greet her on her way to his room with looks of surprise and suspicion, but none dares to question her. She's always welcomed at his place and they know of their lord's fondness of her. He's an unforgiving man and under his roof his servants aren't allowed to talk about affairs that aren't their business.

The way from the outer gates to the inside of the house is long enough for her legs to be numb from the cold, and then from the front doors to his room enough to have her lose her breathing. She hovers outside his bedroom door, suddenly anxious, and checks the time again.

12:15 a.m.

Lawangeen will be seriously upset if he finds out about this, she thinks.

A faint music flows through the door and she knows he's awake. Steadying her nerves, she knocks on the door. When seconds pass and no permission comes to let her in, she knocks again, with her knock proceeded by the same silence. Inhaling deeply, she turns the handle and walks inside.

His room is vast and beautiful, with the wall directly in front of the door made of glass. The curtains are pulled apart and the glass is covered with raindrops, distorting the view outside of the gardens mesmerizingly even in the dark. She can see the dim lights glowing out of the window same as inside of the room.

She cranes her neck and finds him sitting on a rug, leaning against a bundle of pillows, with his back towards her, busy listening to a ghazal on the giant screen of his LED. For a moment, she only takes in his side profile before blinking. He's a handsome man, very much so, but just not the right type.

"Who has a death wish to have disturbed me?" he speaks without turning around. "Didn't I already instruct everyone not to even roam around my quarters?"

From the cigarette between the fingers and his disheveled appearance, she knows he's in a bad mood. But there's no turning back now.

She clears her throat. "Asfand?"

His head snaps instantly in her direction at her voice. Even in the dim lightening, she could read the shock in his steely gray eyes. How could eyes be so captivating yet cold? Belonging to a human but so beastly?

"Brekhna?" he says her name amazement, then quickly sits up straighter and drops his cigarette in the ashtray. "What are you doing here?"

"I know the hour is unsuitable to meet you," she begins to walk towards him, "but I heard you're leaving for Islamabad tomorrow so I had to come urgently." She stops a few steps away from him.

He knits his eyebrows in query. "You could've called me. I would've come to you."

"Do you mind my coming here?"

"Not at all." He pats the space beside him, gesturing for her to sit down. "In fact, I'm glad to have you."

She smiles and sits down a little away from him, knowing well enough that by the end of their conversation, he won't be so glad.

"How long are you going to be out?" she asks him.

"About a month."

She just nods and he picks up the remote, tuning down the LED volume, but not muting it, so the ghazal is only a lulling melody in the background now.

"So," he leans towards her, "what did you want to talk about?"

Instead of beating about the bush, she decides to be upfront with him and meets his gaze calmly but boldly. "Lawangeen is leaving for New Zealand the next week," she readies herself for his reaction as she blurts out, "and I'm leaving with him."

At first, he's frozen, as if unable to register what she has just told him, only staring at her face in disbelief. Then he chuckles humorlessly. "What ridiculous joke is this?"

"It's no joke."

"Nonsense."

"I'm serious."

"Our wedding is in a few months," he reminds her as if she has forgotten.

She takes a long pause before finally declaring, "We're not getting married, Asfand. I'm ending our relationship."

His eyes take on a completely different hue, of haunting gray mist like those in graveyards. For the first time, she actually feels scared of him.

"Brekhna," he tries to keep his voice down, "I might have forgiven Lawangeen for what he did to Zari only because Zari herself forgave him and didn't want me to stand up against him. But I swear by God, I'll kill him if he try to come between us. I'll forget he's my friend— or worse, my brother."

She swallow back her rising fury and glares at him. "This is my decision, not his. You should rather kill me instead of him."

"Very well then." He reaches out and wrap his fingers around her neck, gently but firmly, tugging her towards himself. She doesn't resist. "Did someone see you coming to my room?"

"Your servants."

"Good." He smirks slyly. "Only you and me knows what goes on inside these walls. The others outside can assume anything— will believe anything I tell them, you know that, right?"

She doesn't answer, but she knows where he's getting at. Her heart begins to beat wildly. Coming here this late was a grave mistake.

"I won't kill you," he tells her. "You're the doll with my life in you. But I can definitely kill your dignity. And that's more than death for a woman. Then only I can save you, accept you, but no other. Not even your brother."

She looks at him in horror. "You can't actually fall so low."

"I can fall even lower to have what belongs to me, believe me."

She clenches her jaw so hard that the pain radiates to her ears. Lawangeen was right: Asfandyar isn't the same young boy anymore she grew up knowing, but a different man now. He has totally forgotten how to laugh and his smiles are warningly icy now. If the number of smoked cigarettes in his ashtray and empty alcohol bottle beside him aren't enough of a physical evidence, then she doesn't know what is.

She fists her hands and tries to get up in an attempt to get away from him, but he jerks her towards himself so forcefully that she crashes right back into his body.

"No, my dearest," he digs his fingers in her hair, "you're not leaving my room before sunrise."

➳

"You could've woken me up last night. Because of me you had to sleep uncomfortably too," Leyla says as she serves him breakfast.

Burq looks at her as she sits beside him on the dining table. "I slept well, qalbi."

Qalbi? Her heart skips a beat at the endearment. Instead of continuing looking at her, he quickly busies himself with the breakfast. Leyla gazes at him. Did Burq really call her his heart? She smiles unknowingly.

"Still, I'm sorry about it," she add. "I was so tired I didn't realize when did I fall asleep."

"I know. That's why I didn't want to wake you up. And I couldn't carry you myself to the bed. Now I couldn't have asked Waleed to that for me either." He wrinkles up his nose in distaste at his last statement.

She can't help chuckling. "That was a rotten joke."

"Indeed."

They quietly begin to eat their breakfast for a few minutes before he clears his throat to get her attention.

"Leyla?"

"Yes?"

"Did you sleep well?"

She smiles at him. "I did."

"But you sobbed in your sleep last night and kept holding my hand. I got worried."

Her face heats up for whatever reason. "I had a..." she stares down at her plate, "a bad dream."

"Me too," he replies.

She looks back up at him. "What about?"

"I think it was a memory. I'm getting many of them lately but they're not vivid," he tells her. "You and I were on the road at night and the weather was bad. I was driving fast because I was in a bad mood, but you kept asking me to slow down. I got so mad that I threw you out of my car and left you there."

She doesn't say anything in response, knowing what he's talking about. He reaches out to graze her cheekbone with his knuckles.

"What have I done to you? What more there is to us?" he asks in a low, ashamed tone.

"Burq." She turns her head and kisses his palm before pressing her cheek back into it. "There are things I'm scared talking about with you. All the things that can come between us, distance us, separate you from me, they haunt me."

"What are those things?"

"Can I tell you knowing that you didn't trust me before, then how can you now?"

The golden shimmer in his eyes dims. He edges closer to her, appearing sad and restless. "Is this why you left me, qalbi? Was my heartlessness the reason?"

"No," she denies, then sighs and lets go of his hand, stealing away her gaze. "Maybe yes."

None of them speaks for so long afterwards that it starts to feel awkward. Then he asks her,

"Will you join me to watch sunrise from the lake?"

Her smile slowly returns as she exhales gratefully. "I'd love to."

They both end up sitting on a bench together and watch as the sun rays pierce the sky in different shades of orange and gold. She takes his hand in hers.

"Do you know what does this sunrise look like?"

Burq looks at her. "What?"

"Your eyes."

He grins as his gaze falls to their joined hands before back up. "This is giving me deja vu. Have we come here before?"

"Many times," she confirms. "But it had never been like this."

"What's different today?"

Leyla pauses as she stares up into his eyes. She reaches out to brush away his long bangs from them so those glittering orbs can reflect her image more clearly.

"You," she answers in a whisper.

He sighs heavily and closes his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. She can hear his breathing— hear the unsteady rhythm with the rise and fall of his chest. His hands come to rest on her shoulders.

"Were I given a chance, I'd have asked God to return me back in time and make you part of my life since the beginning." His hands crawl up, cupping her jaw now, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. "I wish to have known you before like I've known you now, and things that happened might never have. I wish I wasn't brokenhearted and it was only you in my life. I wish I wasn't heartless and my heartlessness didn't make you leave. I wish for so many things, Leyla."

Her fingers clasp firmly around his wrist as her own breaths unsteady. She nudges his nose with hers. "Tell me about those things."

"Someday." He breaks apart from her, meeting her gaze again. "Someday when I'm less selfish and don't want to keep you with myself even though knowing that I probably don't deserve you. But I'm selfish and want to keep you with myself." He takes her wrist and presses her palm to his chest, over his heart. "Right here, qalbi."

She doesn't say anything— she cannot— too lost on words, but only continues to gaze at his face. He's the man carrying her entire existence— her entire universe— in his eyes. What does he know where he stands in her life? She has already been carrying him in her heart since the beginning of time.

So she only smiles and stands up, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Do you mind if I go get you flowers from that flower boy over there?" She points in the direction.

Burq laughs lightly and shakes his head, seemingly coming out of a reverie. "I should've said that. But go ahead, my love."

She walks towards the young boy selling flowers and asks him for a bouquet of wildflowers— something to suit him. He quickly arranges one for her and she thanks him. As she's paying him, someone from behind her speaks,

"Give her a bouquet of red roses too. I'll pay."

Her body paralyzes completely at his voice— the voice that has the power of extracting soul from one's body. Her heart makes an abnormal contraction and her instincts warn her to run away from this uncalled danger. But despite her will, she turns around to face him, her eyes going wide to see the color of steel and angry clouds.

"Asfand?" she manages to choke.

"Brekhna," he gives her an amused smile, "so glad to have finally found you, my runaway bride."

➳

Guess, what next?

Sorry for the cliffhanger, again. And too many flashbacks lately, nah? But I gotta start wrapping up the story now, so bear with me.

Remember to share your love, vote and comment.

➳