Ishq Kinara[Love Ashore] Complete

32. Waves

"They will. I have a feeling they will."

"You got this, Sarim boy."

Another silence. Filled with comfort, punctuated by the unspoken words that they were here for each other no matter what.

"I got a shirt."

"You don't look like those who parade around naked so why?"

"It was a gift, dumbass."

Hesham understood immediately.

"Sarim! This lover boy got his love token!"

Sarim chuckled. Hesham roamed his eyes the entire length of the room to find the shirt lying around somewhere. He was visibly disappointed when he didn't find it.

"Show me."

"Bugger off."

"Just because you are getting cute sweet gifts from your lady doesn't mean you have to be mean to us singles."

"You two being single is more of a choice than anything else."

"Never knew getting into a relationship will give you extra snark. 0/10, would not recommend."

"Whatever you say, Hesham."

Izaan went back to playing with his phone. Sarim already had his arm over his eyes. Hesham gave Izaan a searching look. Even though the exchange so far had been lighthearted, he could feel something was off about Izaan's body language. But maybe he was over analyzing it. He shrugged his shoulders and went back to his previous position. But the thought kept on coming back to him. Something like a nagging feeling, the one you can't brush off no matter what. It doesn't make much of a difference but it doesn't let you stay calm either.

______

The window in Irma's room opened up to the empty plot at the backside of their house. There wasn't much to it, overgrown weeds, grass, some trash which the housing authority would be diligent enough to get rid of sometimes or would leave it as it is most of the time. Overall, it wasn't Irma's most favourite place but right now standing in the window and just letting the stale air hit her face was oddly therapeutic to her. Like she was breathing after all. The musty smell was proof enough that she indeed was very much alive and aware of the details around her, both bright and dull.

It was such a contrast from the humongous glass window in Mohid's apartment. The whole city was her vantage point standing there but she couldn't quite feel the sense of being free standing there. It was as if watching the world from a castle, those we read about in fairy tales, where a princess is caged. She was no princess but she always felt caged there.

It was almost ironic, how the part of her old room she had never given much importance to, was whispering of freedom to her. Her window was mostly bolted from inside and she'd open it only when it was absolutely necessary. She often talked about switching her room with the one at the end of the hallway, which was used for the guests, but she never had a heart of leaving her sanctuary for years now, no matter she hated the window.

Life has its way of showing us the importance of meager things. That sometimes, what we discard thinking how unimportant it is, becomes a symbol of the good that's about to come. This window now held that importance for her. Surely, it didn't boast off the skyscrapers and elite urban life that was reflected in the apartment window, but it held a sense of belonging and a touch of home to it and right now that's what Irma needed and craved. To belong, to sit down and have a rest and to trust and never let go. This room and this window provided her with that.

She had regrets in her life, quite a few if she was going to count. She read the signs wrong and kept on letting them decide the course of her life. She trusted when she should've run. And she kept quiet when she should've screamed.