Reaching heights☠⚕

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The sun pressed through the slats of the blinds, cutting lines of gold across the white linen tangled around Sultan's bare legs

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The sun pressed through the slats of the blinds, cutting lines of gold across the white linen tangled around Sultan's bare legs. He stirred, a satisfied sigh caught in his throat as he reached across the bed, fingers seeking the warm curve of her waist.

But his hand met cold sheets.

His eyes snapped open. The pillow beside him bore only the faintest indentation, already fading.
Empty.

For one suspended moment, he lay still. Then his breath came hard, jaw tightening. The calm fractured.

He flung the blanket off, feet hitting the cold marble floor with a slap. His clothes were scattered-shirt thrown half-on, buttons mismatched, pants barely pulled up as he stormed from the room, face a hard mask, but panic licked at the edges of his control.

Downstairs, in the sunlit courtyard, his mother and Aaliyah bhabhi were seated on a cushioned bench, sipping tea under the shade of the neem tree. Their chatter hushed when they saw him, though the smiles remained.

"Aa gaya shehzada," Aaliyah teased, raising an eyebrow, but Ammijaan's gentle eyes swept over him, concerned.

He forced his expression into a neutral one. "Abid kaisa hai?" he asked, voice deceptively calm.
Then, with just the faintest tilt of his head: "Mishti ke saath hai kya?"

Aaliyah blinked, then smiled knowingly. "Haan, wohi toh sambhaal rahi hai use. Lagta hai dono khel rahe hain." She sipped her tea. "Tumhe kuch chahiye? Breakfast-?"

But he was already gone.

He strode through the hallway. He didn't know what he expected to find-her gone? Her slipping through his fingers?

But she was there.

In the garden room, sunlight spilled onto a soft rug where Abid sat gurgling, a rattle in his small fist. Mishti knelt beside him, holding a spoon of mashed banana to his lips. Her hair was loosely tied, tendrils falling into her face. Beside her, Sadafa laughed as she bounced a toy bear in front of the child playing peekaboo.

The sight of Mishti-soft, maternal, utterly unbothered by the night they'd had-hit him like a blow to the chest.

"Sadafa," he said, his voice a low baritone that cut through the room.

She looked up. "Haan, bhaijaan?"

"Aaj college nahi jaana?"

Mishti froze. The spoon hovered at Abid's mouth, unmoving. She didn't turn.

"Mujhe baad mein jaana hai. Sirf ek lecture hai, aur-"

But he barely heard. His eyes were fixed on someone's back. On the way her shoulders had stiffened.
On how she didn't look at him. Didn't acknowledge him. Not even once.

He kept speaking to Sadafa, nodding, asking meaningless things-What subject? Did she finish that assignment? But his gaze flicked, again and again, to the girl in front of him.

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