Leilah Usman awaits an acceptance from a university abroad so she can leave the country she never loved when she stumbles upon an ancient diary. Through the eyes of Mahrosh Irfan, she finds herself in a world so completely different from hers.
One w...
Her gaze met his. Heavy seconds trickled by before she spoke up, her voice low, "Did you expect openness from me when you cut ties with me in the first place?"
Walid saw the raw hurt that flashed across her orbs. His brows drew together in confusion, "Cut ties? When did I-"
"You wrote me no letters. For two years -, it's fine, I get it. No one should be forced to keep ties with people they do not want to, but do you think I had any idea of how you would react? Did I have anything to even gauge what goes inside your head- other than the fact that you probably hate me?"
Her chest heaved up and down. The lever to her emotions had been pulled down, and Mahrosh was consciously aware that this was not how she had planned on bringing the letters up. Her glazed eyes burned; the outburst coming as a surprise both to her and Walid.
Something flickered across Walid's eyes. He looked away, and for a brief moment, she saw the curtain lift from his face. There was only a flash of it; pain, vulnerability, guilt - as if he carried a weight that could not be spoken of. "I do not hate you, Mahrosh."
Mahrosh' eyebrows drew together, and the fire within her diminished. When Walid looked at her again, the window had closed. He drew a slow breath, "I'm sorry about the letters-"
"Walid?"
The sudden voice stopped him mid-sentence. Mahrosh and Walid turned around, spotting Rahul who waved at them from the other end of the alleyway - "I've been looking for you everywhere. I told Nano you were back and she's been asking me to bring you to her for days."
Walid's gaze flickered from Rahul to Mahrosh. When she saw the hesitation flicker across his eyes, she spoke up, her voice low, "It's okay. You can go."
Walid nodded. He turned away, before something seemed to hit him and he paused in her steps, glancing back at her. "Oh, and-" the ends of his lips tilted, "You write beautifully, Allahumma Barik."
He didn't wait for a response as he jogged towards Rahul.
"Were you up there with a girl?" She heard Rahul whisper, "I'm all up for romance, buddy, but you're a married man and I consider it my duty to-"
"That was my wife, pagal," Walid chuckled, lightly hitting Rahul on the head
As their voices faded away, Mahrosh continued to stare after them, her heart skipping a beat.
That... didn't go too bad, did it?
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The sunlight trickled in through the bamboo covered bramda, gently caressing the back of an old wooden canvas that Mahrosh painted on. She was hardly focusing on the painting, and the stick figures and childish flowers were proof of that, but the tilt to her lips and the humming that escaped her lips did not go unnoticed by Aleena.
"You seem to be in a good mood," Aleena observed, peeking over her canvas at Mahrosh who blinked.
