Kin Of Sapphire.

two.

"Next month I'm the one who's going to pick our vacation spot." Arash mumbled beneath his breath, pulling his cap lower over his nose.

"What's wrong with this place? It's so exhilarating!" His mother, responded.

With her arm curled over his bicep, a finger rubbing the spray of tiny scars in comforting motions, she stole a glance at her son's annoyed face. Offering him the blinding smile her husband still adored — borderline worshipped.

The gentle English breeze curled around the nape of both their necks, coupled with the sinking coldness of the air conditioner, they were completely cocooned in the softness of the weather, despite the uncharacteristically sunny day in the city. Behind the iron bars that shielded them from the rows beneath them, underneath the thick canopy like curtain, the mother-son duo stared at each other. Ignoring the shrieks and cries of displeasure from the crowd around them.

"Life doesn't get better than this Arash! Look, not everyone gets to witness a world cup final between two nations renowned for their ever burning animosity." Barekhna's still as ever crisp accent pierced the eclectic air.

"Not everyone wishes to spend their vacation stuck between an India vs Pakistan match, especially when the camera's won't stop."

"You're just like your father." Barekhna smiled, her eyes twinkling with the warm mirth of memories past.

Wether it was an action she did absentmindedly, or did knowingly, Arash knew not. Yet he appreciated the soft strokes of her fingers around his fingers, tracing on them patterns of vines and weaving tales of her life in between. Silently. The corner of the carnelian lips were pulled up in a wide stretched grin. Side eyeing him for his reaction — that much he knew of his mother. He chuckled incidentally at her childlike behaviour, sinking into the plastic chair that dug into his back like a sharp dagger. Resting the top of his head over her shoulder.

"Am I really?" He spoke after a moments silence, the stadium falling into a lull like state.

"Of course you are," Barekhna nodded, "from your love for stars to your ever increasing need to do right by your family. You remind me of him every single day."

That filled Arash's heart up with noticeable pride. The walls of his heart encompassed the rest of his arteries and veins, throbbing with passionate life as he took a sip of his melting lemonade.

"Team green lunges for the boundaries, the ball is in the air. It is a sixer it seems!" The commentary interrupted their moment.

The two lunged from their chairs as did the rest of the crowd, thunderous roar overtook the cries of sadness from the opponents team, their hands aching from the boisterous force of their claps. Their mouths in raptured sweetness screamed praises for their team, that had with just one master like stroke given them hope for better overs as they reached the last few.

Sweat dripped down faces and backs, alike. Hair laced with it kissed the foreheads and cheeks of the hot faces, lips that mumbled prayers between sips of chilled waters sough more hope. The air roared with the need to inch closer to the end of the nail biting overs. As disappointing as the teams start had been, it was turning quite the opposite way. Turning the large stadium into a mossy sea of green, flags waving and throats stretching in engorged capacities to make way for some of the emotion. Surpassing all noise that had ever been hosted by the historical Lord's stadium.