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K has two worlds in his mind — one of them is loud, cheerful and welcoming. The other one… well, that's the problem. That one is soft, rational and brews a silent longing like the gentle rolling boil of freshly made black tea at the brims of a pot.
He thinks he's doing okay, until his heart accidentally touches the wound he'd gotten in exchange for her presence. There are millions he could pursue, but no one is like her. There isn't a soul who could see right through him like she would've, K knows that.
But now, even after so many risings and settings of the sun and the moon — he is not over it. He thinks about her every time it rains, every time someone mentions her city, every time he sees a library. Because that was how they met; on a rainy day in Berlin, in a library which had a garden full of jasmines.
He wishes he could look into her pretty eyes, hear her talk and convince himself to be invested enough. Because he'd given her a little too much pain and it is his job to erase that. Truth be told, if he looks into the deepest corners of his heart — he knew he was convinced from the moment he'd seen her.
He thought the wounds would close soon, but here they were, raw and fresh even after so many weeks have sailed by. He wishes he knew if it really was her in his future, or perhaps he thinks it's better not to. What if he isn't ready to know that yet? What if her du'a changes dried ink and somehow — it turns out to be even more beautiful?
K finds peace in his discomfort, because he knows it won't last long and that's a feat she admires from far. Because every time it rains and he's at war within his two worlds, she prays that he too is granted the ease she was destined for. And if nothing else, he wishes he could say, "Everytime it rains, I long for you."
