Destined Strangers

Chapter 12

After furry, what do you do with the remains?

Maya Phillips

🌙

The room, with its familiar scent of old books and faded perfume, wraps her in a sense of timelessness. She feels the gentle stirrings of a realization. It is as if the silence has given her permission to confront the truth she's been avoiding, to acknowledge the whispered longings that have been echoing in her heart.

She takes a deep breath. Her eyes wander to the bathroom, and she knows exactly what she needs-a long, hot bath to wash away the tension and clear her mind.

Closing her eyes, Sania allows the stillness to seep into her soul, and memories of Hassan's words surface. She realizes that some people leave an impact, even if they aren't meant to stay in our lives. Hassan himself-he's one of them, a constant presence, a reassuring warmth that has seeped into her bones.

STEPPING out of her room into the hallway, Sania wears jeans and a faded blue sweater. Her hair is still damp from the bath, pulled back into a loose braid, with a few stray strands framing her face.

She sees him standing in the kitchen, unpacking containers of food, his eyes fixed on the task at hand, oblivious to her presence.

As she watches him, her heart swells with a mix of emotions: gratitude for his unwavering support, affection for the gentle way he's cared for her, and a deep, abiding connection.

He looks up, their eyes meet, and for a fleeting instant, they just stare at each other.

Sania stands there for a few moments, observing him as he continues to unpack the food, before she begins walking toward him.

As she gets closer, she notices the fatigue etched on his face, the lines under his eyes deepening. When she finally reaches him, he responds with a gentle smile. In that one moment, a flurry of emotions stirs inside her, swirling and then settling as she returns his smile, though her mind is already racing with thoughts of what she has decided.

"How are you?" she asks softly, her voice almost a whisper as she leans against the kitchen shelf, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of the wooden frame beside her.

At first, his face shows surprise, his eyes widening slightly as if he's stumbled upon something unexpected. Then, his smile deepens.

"You remembered to ask?" he replies, his tone light, but there's a hint of something deeper beneath the surface.

"You look tired." Sania's eyes soften as she ignores his counter-question, focusing instead on the weariness that clings to him.

"Yes, I am..." He admits.

"Did I tire you out?" The words escape her lips, a gentle probe, though a strange feeling lingers in her chest as they hang in the air.

"I'm happy to have found you."

His response is calm, almost soothing, and Sania feels the warmth of his gaze washing over her.

"Shall we eat now? You must be hungry,"

Hassan says, his tone gentle as he finishes setting the table. He turns to face her, his eyes soft but serious. She nods in agreement, her body moving to pull out a chair.

"This place has the best food of all the places I've eaten so far," he comments with a soft smile, gesturing for her to sit.

Sania lowers herself into the chair, her movements deliberate as her eyes follow his.