'Got free. Call?' My screen lit up with a notification.
After a whole day of torturous waiting, he finally texted around 9pm and I immediately rushed to the terrace covering myself while dialing his number on the way.
brrr, brrr
"Hello?"
"Hello? Yeah," he was loud and huffing as if walking quickly.
"Yeah. Just got on the terrace." I muttered while climbing the last staircase.
"What are you doing on the terrace at this hour? It's freaking cold right now. I'm on my way home too."
"It will just take 5 mins. I will go downstairs."
"What's so important to talk about that you had to come in between the gushing cold winds?"
"Haa.. mujhe kehna tha..." (yes... I wanted to say...)
"Jii..." (yeah..)
"Kii..." (that...)
"Jii..." (yeah..)
I took a deep breath and forced the words out of my mouth, "I'm sorry." Why is it SO HARD to apologize?
"Why?" It took him seconds to realize what I'm referring to. "Oh," he pauses for a bit and says, "Look, I want to give you a disclaimer about one thing, in case you don't know."
"Huh?"
What disclaimer?
"I'm not one of those guys who can bear snapping without any reason and have no self respect." His voice was calm yet stern.
"Murat-" I tried to speak but he didn't let me.
"You can snap at me all you want if it's my fault. I'm not saying you can't get angry at me." His voice softens making me close my eyes. "Hayat, I'm not an arrogant person who won't admit their fault. But at least have a valid reason?"
"Murat.." I trailed off.
"Tell me what I did wrong and we will figure it out rationally. But I just can't bear any lash out where I haven't even done anything wrong."
I stood there silently near the wall.
"And most importantly, I never compromise when it comes to my sleep. Be it work or anything."
"Main us waqt bas... gusse me zyada boldi..." I sighed with fog coming out of my lips. (I just said.... too much in anger.)
"I'm not saying if you said too much or too little."
"Then?"
"I just informed you." He paused, "I don't want these scenarios, nor I like em. Like someone is so dominant on me and ordering me around. Like I'm being controlled and my freewill is gone. I hate that. When to sleep, when to get up, when to sit."
"Nooo.. pleaseee..." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Listen, I have never treated you like that neither I have any intention to do so."
"I didnt mean that you treated me like that. I just gave you an example." Even though we were trying to sort out our conflict, his voice was surprisingly calm throughout the time.
No lashing or cussing.
Just sorting out in a civilized manner.
"Okay but you texted this na?"
"Hmm? What?"
"That 'I don't want to be treated as some slave, no freewill, that's why I don't get close to anyone.' "
I mimicked his tone.
"Tell me one thing. Is it necessary to say 'okay im sleeping goodnight', when I have already told you 2 times that I'm sleepy and I may knock out anytime?"
YOU ARE READING
It's Not Finished Yet
Romance"Love is the calmest feeling ever. It doesn't makes you restless, instead it gives you peace. As they say, 'aankho ki thandak ban jata hai vo insan'. (that person becomes the coolness of your eyes) The person who truly loves you doesn't give you cl...
