Nuranize

Chapter 22: Distance.

His POV.

I sat on my bed, dressed, chewing on my lower lip. I kept looking at my luggage, still doubting I had packed all I needed.
I had less than five hours to be certain that I was ready to go. Even so, I sat on my bed and chewed my lower lip, haunted by the event that happened two days ago.

I had called Nura, like I usually did. We talked and laughed like usual. Towards the end of the call I informed her of the day and time of my flight departure and she went quiet. As if silence wasn't bad, she did something that left me mortified, she cried; better yet, she may have cried.
The reason for my uncertainty was because of how she had answered the question that followed.

"Nura? What's wrong? Are you crying?" I had asked horrified.
"Safe journey.... I should go." She had replied, her tone, rueful.

You see, from what I had observed, she had a way of answering questions she found uncomfortable, without actually answering it. Of the two of us, I was the one that evaded questions; for instance when she asked of my past relationships ( mind the 's') conclusively, I began telling her of my college life instead. Nura on the other hand usually giggled her way out of uncomfortable questions; for instance when I asked her whether she would rather get married during or after medical school (mind you, it was an innocent question) she giggled and never quite answered the innocent question.

That day, I didn't get any giggle. I didn't get an answer either. She could have evaded the question, I would have loved it had she done just that. Rather, she concluded the call. I was left to wonder.

Whatever it was I heard, I hated it. It made my heart ache, it made my everything ache. It made me feel uncomfortable under my skin. I badly wanted to call her afterwards, to make sure she was alright, the moment I grab a hold of my phone, I froze; afraid that I'd hear it once more.

The following day, I flooded her phone with texts without any consideration. Whatever opportunity I had, I took, sometimes repeating previous texts. She replied to must of them, but the nature of her texts were aberrant; call me crazy but she had a way of making her messages warm. Texts I received were anything but normal.
I would have loved to just visit her and make her tell me what was wrong with her, unfortunately for me, gone were days I had that liberty. The two of us were quite busy at that instance; I had final prep to conclude and she had school to think about.

Following day wasn't any better, I barely had time for myself because friends kept trickling in. They came in their numbers, the moment one troop left, another would land. I used the day being a host, having no time to myself. After Isha, I finally got access to my phone. I was just about to call, but she beat me to it. We talked for a while and my anxiety was alleviated. She told me how her day had went, how she answered a question wrongly and everyone had laughed, how happy she was when informed that some test had been postponed. She did much of the talking that night and I gladly listened. Eventually we had to call it a night when she kept yawning. It was only after the call had ended did I notice some things: she never asked how my day had went, she never told me why she had cried, she never told me why she was cold and she never mentioned the journey I would have in barely two days from then.
I laid on the bed, my head groggy. I just couldn't understand what was happening.

Her POV.

A week to his flight, Hikmah wouldn't stop reminding me that her brother was going to travel. It was all she ever talked about. A heated discussion on physiology somehow became a heated one-sided discussion on the countries he had planned to visit. As you'd expect, I didn't say much regarding the topic; 'Allah sarki', 'MashaAllah', 'That's nice' were all I could muster.
That doesn't mean that I never listened to what she said, I did. Every single thing she said was saved in my long term memory, to be recalled when I was alone. To be honest, I felt awful. I was very much in love with him yet I couldn't tell him.