under the covers [hs au]

chapter thirty-one.

Samira was the big spoon, and Harry was the little.

She recalled Harry's words—you wear the pants—and they were true. But as they echoed in her ears, they felt meaningless to her. He always alluded to this, how she held more responsibility in this relationship, but not once did he do anything about it. The weight of it all heaved more and more with every minute that passed.

Insha-Allah, he'll see it one day. Maybe he'll tell me he's sorry.

At that moment, for a few seconds, the thought passed through her mind, some weight lifted.

But the moment was over.

Some precious memories surfaced. There were a few other times when Samira felt so free, weightless, but those times were scarce. She held onto these moments as though they were a lifeline. Peculiarly, each one was of a time she was alone, without Harry.

She stood on her apartment roof, watching the sun touch the sky with vibrance as it faded away. She savored the chill of the breeze, the way it tangoed in her hair. With her eyes shut, she breathed the air in. How nice it was, to have her heart beat in the way it used to.

Samira opened her eyes.

The streetlights sparkled vivaciously, and the moonlight beamed on her skin. She gazed at the paved streets, which were bustling with nightlife, eyes following each car that passed. She took note of the fact that she felt no fear.

Her phone buzzed, startling her.

Noureen: You didn't do your portion of the editing. You normally love to do it

Samira: Sorry. I'm trying to get to it

Noureen: This is the last thing left to do. I'm tired of covering for you

Noureen: We graduate next week, yk

Noureen: Is everything okay?

Noureen: Did you break up with him?

Samira took a breath of the night air into her lungs. When she exhaled, she let go of any peace she was holding onto. It was a luxury she could not afford.

Her mind returned to reality, to thoughts of the man who, as she kept telling herself, deserved better. The idea of ending things with him didn't cross her mind for the past week. He was consumed by too much pain and grief, and she was forced to share it. She could not bear to tell him the truth; she didn't want to cause the existing pain she felt to grow unbearable. But Harry wouldn't let her walk away without having her ache in all the same ways he did. She knew all too well that the pain was only inevitable.

Her throat tightened, and her vision began to blur.

Samira: dw about the edits, I'll have them done by tomorrow.

She sighed, trying to release all the stress that had built up. She didn't realize how tightly she clenched her jaw. Before any of this, she would just roll out the prayer mat, feel the soft threads on her forehead as she prostrated, feel all of her worries fade in an instant.

But she immediately pushed the thought from her mind; she believed she didn't deserve such peace.

She turned, making her way to the stairs. For the first time in a long time, she had the night all to herself. Maybe she could take a bath, splurge on herself while internet shopping, eat some junk food. Perhaps she could bring a blanket back to the roof and fall asleep under the stars. Find some way to make herself happy. As stupid as it sounded, Samira found herself missing simple things like these.