Heartbeats [ON HOLD]

two | compromise

In less than an instant, the small smile on Noor's lips curves into a much larger one.

Frankly, if Medha wasn't convinced to go with Noor to her house then, she's definitely convinced now.

So, leaving her bicycle at the fence where she had parked it, she trails behind Noor, eyes fixed on the back of her top as she studies the intricacy of the threaded flowers that run up the cloth.

They walk all the way around the backyard, passing through the trees she was stealing from mere moments ago, through the stones that form a sort of pathway, and finally, they reach Noor's house.

The first thing to catch Medha's eyes is the sign on the door, the one that she knows says, NOOR QADRI, not because she can read it fluently, but because she can hazily recognise the letters 'N', 'R' and 'Q' in their spiral font, and she doesn't know many other words that have those three letters in them.

The second thing to catch her eyes is how quaint Noor's house is.

It's... completely unlike her backyard which was overflowing with richness and colour. The exterior and the interior of the house is anything but— beige brick walls, a dark brown door that Medha walks in with ease, while Noor crouches slightly, brown walls covered in plants and a clock and hanging utensils and the fresh scent of fruits jam-packing the house.

"Your home..." she starts in a whisper, setting her bag of fruits down on the small table. "It's so pretty," Medha gets out, hopefully, without gawking too much. And she doesn't know why, but even though she has only known Noor for mere minutes, she can already tell that her house perfectly encapsulates her.

Noor laughs. Medha melts. "Thank you," she says, dragging out a chair for herself and for Medha, but not before setting down a cup of tea on the table. "I'm sure yours is too. You seem like the kind to have a good home."

That's the best compliment anyone has ever given me. You've given me so many of the best compliments anyone has every given me today, Medha wants to say, but instead, she says, "I like your teacups."

"Bought them at the market!" Noor exclaims— it's the first time she's shown excitement today— as she holds up the cup by its handle, thin and yellow. "The one where I sell my fruits. The ones you wanted to steal."

"I really am sorry," Medha starts all over again. "I didn't think—"

"I know." Giving her a reassuring smile, Noor takes a single sip of her tea, the steam rising up in curled tendrils and settling in the air. "Let's say I do give you the fruits... What do I get in return?"

In return. That means she can keep the fruits. That means that technically, she won't be stealing anything at all.

It also means that for once in her life, she can put her knitting skills to good use. For things other than the occasional embellished tablecloths and blankets that are utilised only during the winter by the townspeople.

"I can make you something," Medha offers up; her voice comes out more hesitant than she expects it to, but brushing it aside, she continues, "If you want, that is. I can make something for you."

Raising an eyebrow, Noor laughs quietly— it's a melodic one that bounces off the thick walls of the house and snuggles itself right into the left of Medha's chest. "Make something like bread?"

With a shake of her head, she points up to the sleeve of her dress and tugs at it softly, before reaching up to point at the small patch of embroidery on the right pocket— a tiny red rose she stitched onto it when she was bored at home.

"Clothes," she corrects, a lilt to her voice, one that she's aware only arises when she talks about something she's proud of. She knows because there isn't much that she's truly proud of. "I make my own clothes! Stitching, knitting, crocheting, embroidery. I can do all of it. Even this—" Pointing at her own dress again, she smiles. "This dress. Made it myself! I can make you something in return for the fruits."

Noor's lips settle into a thin line, eyes focusing even more than they did before, in pure contemplation. But while Medha knows that Noor is contemplating it, tossing up the idea of saying yes, she doesn't know if she's actually going to say yes.

God, she hopes it's a yes.

For a moment, Noor doesn't say anything. And then it becomes two moments, and then three, and then, she doesn't say anything at all. She just hums under her breath, drinks her tea, waits until Medha finishes her own tea, sets both the cups in her too-clean sink.

And she does nothing else.

Her eyes stay focused on the bag of fruits, so focused that Medha is certain that she's going to tell her to leave the fruits and let herself out.

Until, of course, she's proven wrong again.

"On Monday— that's three days from now—, I'll be at the market," Noor says, it's quiet, hidden behind the faint chirp of birds perched on her windowsill. "Main market. I'll be selling my fruits there, third stall to the far left. You can come by with— with whatever you make for me and you can give it to me then."

And Medha's heart soars.

"Really?" she asks, just to be sure she isn't hearing things. But when Noor gives her a smile and a nod, she's sure. She's more than sure.

In a haste, bursting up from her seat, she grabs the bag of fruits and clutches it tight in her hands, giving Noor the brightest of smiles she can manage without blinding her. Though she's convinced that Noor's own smile could blind herself when she looks in the mirror. "Okay, okay, I'm going to—"

Cutting herself off with a small squeak— because it's been so long since she made something for someone just for the sake of making it—, she slings the bag around her shoulder, the ribbon in her hair getting caught in it and fluttering down to the ground in the process.

A soft laugh leaves Noor's mouth as she bends to pick up, but Medha quickly shakes her head and rushes out, body buzzing with thrill. "I'll get the ribbon later!" she assures, thick strands of hair falling to the front of her face. "On Monday. I'll— I'll make something for you and I'll see you then. On Monday."

"On Monday," Noor confirms with a laugh, and if that isn't the best sound Medha has heard in her life, she doesn't know what is. "I'll see you on Monday."

That's the last Medha hears of Noor, her feet taking her faster than her mind can process as she rushes out of the little brown house with the little brown windows, raising her hand up to wave at Noor, who just shoots her another smile and a single raise of her hand.

She mounts herself on her bicycle, wind in her hair as she pushes her feet down on the pedals, the April breeze blowing the entirety of her hair back in a thick black wave that feels like a parachute raising her higher and higher.

And as she continues to pedal through the narrow roads littered with flowers and sticks and stones and petals, all she sees in her head is wine red lips and a twinkling pair of eyes.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☽

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AN: chapter 2 !!!!! we've met noor who is the absolute light of my life !!! i hope everyone enjoyed :,)

i just wanted to quickly say that updates for this book may not be as frequent as i hoped, so! until i finish all the updates for come what may, this book will update once a week, and after come what may is finished, i'll pick up the pace !!!

thank you all so much for your support on the previous chapter <3 i appreciate u all sm, it's unreal

thank u for reading !!! and have a good day everyone 💓