Memoirs of a Forgotten Love

Imran's POV

After reaching home, I didn't know what to do, feel, think or say.

I went and hugged mom and dad good night. They had some questions on their faces, but I couldn't stand socializing just now.

I went straight to my room and locked it. I had to freshen up. I was beyond tired. Taking my towel I headed for the shower. The heated drops of the shower running down my spine was plain soothing. Standing upright against all the difficulties hurled at me made my spine hurt really bad.

After shower, dressed in black tees and grey pjs I decided to lay back in bed and decide about the next thing I should do. Sleep or Think. Not that there was an option, thinking myself to sleep was a regular thing now. The other side of my bed being empty since too long, thinking had become my lullaby. Shamreen's mere presence next to me used to be enough to lull me into a sound sleep. And her absence made me feel anxious and tensed. But for the first time, in months, I wasn't thinking of something that would stress me out. I was thinking of Shamreen, without any anxiety. The incidents from the evening warmed my heart. Of how beautiful she looked, I could only be mesmerized and dream of her waltzing through my mind. I had given up trying to put to words her beauty. It was a failed attempt. She was not just skin beautiful, she was essence beautiful. Thinking of how she squirmed when I drew closer. Of how she blushed when she got caught running her fingers through my hair, intentionally. I remember when once I came late home for a special dinner she planned, and had that anger up on her nose. Adorable. It's totally not right for a person to look so cute when she's angry and speaking crap out of respite. I would forget about how she was calling me names, and admire the eyes trying painfully to look angry but looking beautiful instead, and the tight lipped talk she was given coming off more as a tantrum than a lecture.
Allah, how I miss her.

I was just going on to another thought when my phone rang. Who on earth would call me at this hour. They seriously need to get a life. I lazily reached for the cell, and almost fell off my bed when I saw the name. No, this can't be happening. Shamreen. She's calling me. She's. Calling. Me.

I quickly tried to steady my breath and answer the call before it disconnects.

"Assalaamu Alaikum"

".... uhem...." She cleared her throat, she had obviously been crying or on the verge of crying.

"You alright?"

No answer.

"Don't make gestures, say it". If there was one think Shamreen did on the phone that was truly irrational, that would be nodding or shaking her head instead of saying yes or no to the caller. For goodness sake this isn't Skype.

"Wa Alaikum Ussalaam"

"Hmm, you alright?"

"No", she was now crying and was trying to swallow back the tears.

"Hmm", I moved to the window and sat there. The moon light drenching everything under it with silver.
"So? What makes you cry?"

"After coming back home", "when I saw what passed between you and my family, I asked Mom Dad and Shahzad about it"

"And...", this is scary, what did they say to her? Did they tell her everything?

"And they told me..."

I deserve this, all of this. If this is how it ends, it'll be because of me.

"They told me, that you are my.." She stopped short.

"I'm your..?" I urged her to say it, I wanted to hear it so bad.

No answer.

"Shamreen?" I wanted to hear her speak. She had no idea what effect she was having on me right then. With her voice being so enticing and having her call me after ages, seeing her name flash on my screen, it was all pure adrenaline pumping through my veins.