kabhi main kabhi tum [one shots]

For The Best

Summary: Sharjeena has some news, but Mustafa doesn't take it well.

A/N: Angst!!! and trigger warning for insinuations of abortion.

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When Sharjeena enters the living room from the kitchen, her gaze immediately is drawn to one of the balconies, catching sight of Mustafa standing here. Her stomach does a little flip as she thinks of the conversation she needs to have with him; a conversation that, under other circumstances, would be a happy occasion worth celebrating. But Sharjeena has a heavy gut feeling that won't be the case here. That as excited and, yes, scared as she is, Mustafa won't share those sentiments. And as she slowly makes her approach to where he is, she prays that she is wrong.

She steps out onto the balcony, the leaves of the plants they set up dancing in the night breeze. Mustafa stands leaning back against the railing, arms crossed as his own hair slightly moves in the wind. His expression is one that tugs on her chest, a hopelessness in his eyes that makes her want to wrap her arms around him and hold him, reassure him that everything will be okay. But he wouldn't believe her, and that's an ache all on its own.

"Kya soch rahe ho?" she asks gently, even though she knows exactly what's been running through his mind since the moment he got notice that he was out of a job. The rage, the depression, the helplessness that has been consuming him for the last few days that Sharjeena has no idea how to get rid of.

Mustafa meets her gaze, his expression remaining blank as he doesn't provide her with an answer. The logical part of Sharjeena knows that this isn't the right time to tell Mustafa her news—hell, this isn't the right time to even have this kind of news. She worries it will send him over the edge, but this isn't also something she can hide. Not from him, of all people. Plus, the longer she waits to tell him, the worse it might be.

She needs to rip off the bandaid and not be worried about the sting he might feel.

She leans back against the railing to the right of him, chewing on the inside of her lip as he watches her quietly. Sharjeena can feel the quickening of her pulse, can feel it in the way her heartbeat thuds harder and harder as anticipation and nerves mix together, gripping the railing behind her tightly until she blurts out unceremoniously, "I'm pregnant."

Silence follows her words, heavy and only disturbed by the never ending noise of the neighborhood and city. But Sharjeena's gaze never strays from Mustafa, taking note of any minute reaction he may have—and she picks up on each of them; the shock flashing across his eyes, the slight parting of his lips, the way the blood drains from his face as his gaze flickers down to her still flat stomach hidden beneath his oversized shirt she wears.

But it's the silence that makes her stomach twist, knot after knot tightening in anxiety with every passing second until Mustafa shatters the silence with a hoarse, "Kya?"

She attributes that to the shock no doubt flooding him, trying not to clear her throat as she repeats, "I'm preg—"

"Sunliya," he cuts her off, prompting her to press her lips together. A bundle of emotions war across his face as he straightens, arms falling to his side as he stares at her in disbelief. "Yeh kaise hua?"

Sharjeena blinks at him, the wind tickling her skin and making her bangs brush against her temple. "Koi explanation chahiye?" she asks slowly, eyebrows rising. "Tum wahin pe the—"

"Mera mazak ka koi mood nahi hai, Sharjeena," Mustafa interrupts, an edge creeping into his voice that makes itself known when he is upset, just a few steps away from reaching his breaking point. "Yeh tum kya keh rahi ho?"