Chapter Nineteen

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abeer aesthetic: done by honeyoolong

"Don't you ever get tired?"

Abeer raised an eyebrow at Nazia's question, his pen in the midst of touching the paper. "Of what?" he quizzed, his eyes meeting hers for a second before glancing back at his sheets.

"Of constantly ignoring me," she stated, her eyes watching his with a certain sadness. He carried on writing, his eyebrows raising. There was nothing besides the swift motion of his eyebrow raising and his pen hesitating to indicate he was shocked. Nazia's eyes watched his every movement carefully. She was lying on their couch, a magazine she was barely reading was spread across her lap.

"You know I love you," Abeer commented. There wasn't much else to say, and he needed to finish these documents by tommorow. Nazia can come second.

Her lips pursed, her voice barely muttering something and more whispering to herself. "That's not enough for a relationship . . ."

"Don't you ever get tired?" Abeer asks. She barely pays attention and instead, she raises an eyebrow. There's nothing about her actions that makes Abeer think she recalls the same memory as he's thinking of right now.

Her paint brush swirls in the inky black. The color matches her dark determined eyes that watch her board with narrowed glances. This time, it's Nazia ignoring Abeer who calmly sits on her couch. It's okay though; watching her arms move around and her eyes filled with such passion is more beautiful than words dancing around each other.

"Of playing games with Kabir and me," Abeer answers. "Why are you running away from me and chasing after someone who obviously doesn't love you back?"

Her body tenses. "He does love me . . .," Nazia begins off, pausing her painting until she remembers what happened this morning. Him and Sahibha kissing. His trust wavering in her. The secrets he holds underneath his eyebags. The way he told her to leave, the way he told Nazia how much hates himself by simply accepting he's some sort of monster when he isn't, how ready he is to accept that he's done something wrong when Bella is the one haunting him . . . oh god, where did her beloved Kabir go?

"Oh, and him kissing Sahibha was some fluke," Abeer snaps, shutting the magazine he was barely reading. He kept it out to glance at whenever Nazia looked at her. While her eyes were focused on her painting, he would watch her instead and think about how amazing it would be to see her painting in his apartment every night instead of on evenings once a week. He wants to distract her, kiss her neck, chase the paintbrush out of her hand and hear her giggle. But instead, he remains silent and watches Nazia.

"We talked this morning," she defends. She doesn't know who she is defending. Her love, the Kabir she now's or the hollow shell of Kabir? "He says that we just need a small break."

"A small break where he goes and kisses girls around. Sounds amazing --"

Nazia throws her paintbrush to the floor, gushing Abeer who stares in a stunned silence. She turns away from her painting and glares at Abeer with her hands on her hips. Anger radiates from her body; all directed to Abeer who lazily lounges on the sofa with his legs dangily across the paint smeared pillows. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she hisses. "You cheated on me while dating me and you're saying that it was Kabir who was wrong?!"

He puts an arm over the sofa head, his lips turning upright in a smirk as he watches her. "You're so cute when you're angry," he comments. "I read about this in an article. Women who are freshly out of love tend to defend their ex and are still convinced they're some great person."

Nazia groans. "Kabir is a good person --"

"-- that kisses sluts like Sahibha," Abeer interrupts. He picks the magazine up again, acting as if this conversation was boring him. "Love makes people fools. People in love are the biggest fools of them all, all of them desperately clinging onto a false emotion."

His tone is dark, a side that Nazia has rarely ever seen to him . . . Unless Abeer was discussing the taboo topic of his missing parents. "Love isn't just darkness. It's filled with lights too," she argues, trying to convince herself along with him. Her anger is disappearing and concern is overtaking her. Why is she still defending Kabir? And why does Abeer hate love?

Abeer ignores her, his eyes scanning his magazine again. Nazia puffs in annoyance. She thought she was close to revealing his backstory but she was nowhere near it. Although she had once loved Abeer, his life is a bit of a mystery to her.

"Why do you even hate Sahibha so much?" Nazia narrows her eyes onto Abeer. "What has she ever done to you for you to call her names?"

Abeer looks up, his eyes startled and Nazia swears she could see hurt passing through them. But the look of pain and surpirse passes over soon enough and it's replaced with his usual smirk with the edges of his lips in the middle of smiling. "I left you for her. We went to Paris. I had an emotional breakdown and left her in the middle of the night. A month later, I came home to apologize but instead I find her dressed in another male's shirt and that was the end of that."

Abeer shrugs at the end of it. "I guess what goes around comes around. Twice, in my case," he chuckles, his eyes darker than usual. His fingers play with the edges of the paper, and his mind curses at himself for allowing Sahibha back into his mind. For allowing her to take up more space than needed within his heart, for him allowing Sahibha to have so much control over him that he'll have a pang in his heart because of a mere mention of her name . . . He hates her. No one is allowed to have power over him ever again.

"Abeer," Nazia softly says, and Abeer snaps out of his trance to look at Nazia again. Her eyes are a soft shade of brown, holding so much warmth and care for him that he melts a bit before realizing that he's not here for love; he's here for his goal. "I never realized, I'm so so sorry."

He waves his hand to act as if it's okay. "It doesn't matter anymore," he lies. "Why were you and Kabir talking this morning again?"

"Something happened to him last night. He was so out of it and he came so late, and I stayed the night for Harnaam since she was so worried. When morning arrived, he gave me half the answers I needed and told me to get out," Nazia explains, her eyes everywhere besides Abeer. "I left my ring with him."

Nazia wishes she could tell what Kabir told her to Harnaam, or someone but knowing Kabir, he'll just get more hurt. He would act as if Nazia betrayed him. The only reason why she's even painting is because she's been putting all her emotions in a canvas and praying tomorrow doesn't come where she's forced to make a decision on whether she should confess or not.

Abeer's eyes fall onto her tan line where her ring should be. "Good," Abeer mutters, his tone barely audible to Nazia. Her eyes remain firmly on the painting once again. "Anyways, have you finished entering the art contest?"

And with his statement, their minds drifted away from heartbreak, Kabir and Sahibha.

IT'S A COLD DAY, and Kabir for once is wearing a black coat carelessly thrown over his short sleeved shirt. His hands huddle around a coffee, attempting to sneak its warmth on this foggy weather. He opens the cold metal door, his eyes watching the receptionist behind the counter hundle under her cardigan.

"Hey Stacy," Kabir quickly greets her, waving a hand. She looks up to smile at him while she pushes her glasses up on her nose. He presses the elavator's button, his eyes glancing around the room and landing upon a torn poster. His eyes wander back to Stacy who takes small sly looks at him. "Is there something on my face?"

She turns red. Usually, Kabir likes Stacy since she's quite sweet and reminds him of a typical librarian but her constant staring is irking him. "There's nothing! It's just that you're wearing a new coat," Stacy covers up. "It looks nice."

Kabir wonders if she was just subtlety checking him out. If it was any other day, he would've ran his left hand through his hair to remind her about his status but currently, all he has is a tan line instead of a glowing sliver ring.

He forces his lips upwards and sips his coffee, the pipping hot material burning his tongue. This is probably the most calories he'll consume today but at least it's more than a ciggerette.

For the last few days, he's been so anxious that he's been eating less than normal and smoking more. Today, he managed to break that smoking in the car or smoking before work habit. Hopefully, he'll be okay surviving on the last two ciggerettes in his box. Buying another pack would consume the energy he doesn't have.

He steps within the elavator, his eyes carefully picking upon another hastily ripped poster. Kabir takes a step closer, running a finger over it as he touches the remaining white and black bits of it. Another ding later, the elavator opens and he peers out, his eyes gazing over the life sized cut outs of musicians. A low hum of tune plays and he guesses it's Riley, who loves eightees' music and The Beatles choosing today.

Everything looks the same, except for the way Sahibha violently rips out a poster from the wall. One of the walls was completely covered in posters to the point you can't see any bits of the white plaster. However, its usual small and large posters are all replaced by a black and white posters. Sahibha and a few other of his workmates are ripping out those sheets from the wall, and Kabir raises an eyebrow.

"What's happening?" he quizzes, taking a sip of his coffee. Sahibha's eyes widen in shock when she sees Kabir, and immediately, she covers the poster she was ripping with her body. A few papers litter the floor, all torn up into pieces.

"N- nothing," Sahibha stutters, which seems so unlike the long-legged beauty. "You should go and find the flies for our client Iqbal. The band he organizes' tour is coming here - and I remember you told me you guys are good friends. You can be in charge of the promotions!"

Kabir's eyebrow remains in the air. He appreciates that Iqbal, his childhood and high school best friend, is going to be in the city for a few days, but the topic change was obviously to take his attention off the posters.

Kabir leans down - despite everyone's protests - and picks up a sheet of paper. He scans the poster until his heart starts to race at the sight of Bella's name and he drops his coffee all over the floor.

The brown liquid stains the carpet, sinking into each pore of the carpet until it seemed like dried blood instead of a sugary delight. Kabir attempts to compose himself and forces his eyes to read more than Bella's name.

Do you know the real Kabir???

Of course you don't. Unless you grew up in Stoneville, you would have never known the Muslim man properly. Recently, he falsely claimed he was abused when his European girlfriend dumped him and caused her to go to jail for two years. An innocent woman had to suffer two years behind jail because of this man. Two long years. . . while Kabir happily lived his life without a hint of worry. He deserve outrage, he deserves what karma will hand to him.

Do you still support him? Are you really sexist enough to support someone like him?

There's a bad taste in the back of his throat and his skin is burning all over from where he spilt the coffee. Sahibha is rushing towards him, her eyes filled with worry as she yells at someone to get some tissues. He could see Riley running, he could see Samantha's eyes widening as she grabbed a phone to alert someone but he couldn't process it all.

It's not until Sahibha is screaming at someone that Kabir can't breathe over in worry, he realizes that he's having a panick attack. His skin is already sweating too much, his heartbeat is running too fast and it feels like any moment now, he'll puke all over the floor.

He's just so afraid.

Bella has managed to already climb into his safe haven, spill her lies to his colleagues and dehumanize Kabir again. Her name is everywhere - she's been constantly haunting him wherever he goes. Within every shadow he sees, he's convinced that she is hiding there.

It feels like everything with Nazia was nothing but a good dream and the dire situation of life is only Bella. Kabir's hands begin to shake until Sahibha starts to wipe off the coffee with tissues.

"T-Take me home," Kabir says, barely making the words escape his lips in the midst of his heavy breathing. "P-please."

He can't look at anyone in the eye anymore. The only reason why he even moved to the city was so no one knew his past anymore. Bella has ruined that safe heaven for him as well now.

There's no where left where Kabir is safe when Bella is here. His home has been ruined once again, and eyes are already making assumptions and putting the broken glasses of Kabir's past together to either sympathize with him or to hate him.

whoop whoop. how was the chapter?

a bit of sahibha n abeer's relation was exposed here! any opinions/predictions on that?


how are you guys? what were you guys doing pre-reading?

i've been stumped for the last few days due to personal issues so if the chapter was horrendous, i apologize.

feel free to hit me up with edits/fan art/theories, those always make my day! the aesthetic up above is done by honeyoolong and it's so accurate and beautiful!

also also we got five hundred votes! it's always been a goal of mine to get 1k votes and to see us halfway there is shocking. thank you guys sm for always supporting me and being some of the best people ever. I swear I have the best commenters here -- I have people telling me amazing feedback, compliments that make me cry and smile so hard my mum thinks I have a boyfriend, funny and amusing commentary, insightful commentary that allows me to see in your guys' mind while reading . . . even your smallest comments make my day and I just wanted to say I love all of you guys for showering me with sm support on Trance and PKKNH.


- Maya.

(PS: vote pls)

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