Assalamualaikum people!
Hope you are all well...
Fatima's POV
Things were getting pretty heated between Harris And me.
He seems to have grown anger issues while the time I was not here, or, perhaps with me roaming around this house makes his blood boil.
I was busy with Aaban these days and simply thinking of all the ways of talking to Harris to clear all this mess and the thin air between us.
It is suffocating me to death.
'Hope, I don't die soon!' I whispered.
"You won't!" I heard Harris.
"Guess, I whispered that loud enough?"
He nodded.
"Da!" Aaban ran into Harris, holding his leg between his tiny hands.
We were in the backyard.
Aaban was playing and I was busy witnessing the night taking over from here. The glorious sun lets itself down only for the moon to come over.
Leaving all its light and power to the moon for the people to dwell in peace until it shows up again.
Aaban was now on his Da's shoulder.
Enjoying his time there.
"Why would you die, may I ask?"
He asked, curious.
"Air", I shrugged my shoulders.
"It is calm and reviving."
He was stiff.
The words he said and the expression he showed were nothing to complement each other.
Just plain!
"It is calm and reviving yet suffocating." I spat.
That shook him a bit before regaining his senses again.
He searched my eyes to explain what I mean.
Aaban was busy sucking his thumb, perhaps while watching a few flies in the distance.
"Care to throw some light on what is that making 'your' air suffocating, huh?"
"You!" Came out venomously from my mouth taking aback both of us.
His eyes digging deeper into mine,
As if he would tear my soul apart just to know what I mean by all this rubbish.
"This wasn't us, never, I have my reasons for what I did.
I know somewhere I was wrong back then, however, things happened.
Why can't we just talk, I am apologising for what you have gone through and for her. She was my best friend too."
Wounds of my friend's hurting me, painful!
He was leaving again, like always.
"I won't let you go, Harris, not anymore. You have to talk, we need to talk, for the sake of old times."
Love ❤️❤
YOU ARE READING
Interwoven
Short Story"I PLANNED, WE PLANNED BUT HAPPENS WHAT ALLAH PLANS." ~~~~ If he is not Saima's son, whos son is he? "He is mine, Aaban is mine." "He is not your son, Harris!" ~~~~ "You never married Saima, why, Harris? You loved her." "Why did you ran, Fatima...
