17th April, 2019

When freedom is your weakness, imprisonment is what you become addicted to.

Birmingham, West Midlands of England

It stormed furiously, dusting his coat as he walked past the unfamiliar alleyways. He remembered being here when he was just eight. Mum and dad brought him and Taraa for a business trip. He recalled the hate and boredom he felt. If yesterday felt like a long time ago then time was mistaken.

A small smile played on his lips as the sharp rays of sun took over the dark angry clouds. He thanked for the drizzle which dripped down and when the winds started their battle, filling his lungs with the city's burnt smoke and the lingering smog from the dull and strong manufacturing houses, he cursed the pollution and those nostalgic vibes.

It was almost dawn, he knew he won't make it to the next bus stop. It would be until midnight when he would reach his destination. He realised that going undercover was such a pain. But he had to hold his patience and his plan.

The clouds and the winds threatened the sun, what did the sun have to lose anyway? It was soon to be set. He waited for the next bus for more than a while and when it finally arrived, he pulled down his cap a little more as to cover his eyes from the open and payed for the ticket. Taking a seat somewhere in the middle, he was pleased that it wasn't crowded. Though it wouldn't matter if he weren't discreet, he still couldn't risk not being. People still had deals with Adel. Even here and in parts of Europe.

He didn't like the fact that he didn't know the streets of Birmingham like how he knew of New York's and DC's. It irked him to the core, he really wasn't comfortable, heck he didn't know how long would the bus take till the docks. Till his destination.

He fell asleep the entire drive, startled by every stop or so and when his destination came to a view, he jumped out and hurried to the next stop. The next bus ride took longer and it ticked ten in the evening.

When he had finally stepped out of the bus, this time his pace became slow and sloppy. Rain poured down with all its might and the lightening didn't make him happy. He strode right through the streets into the alleyways, right away from the docks.

He spotted the exact place he was looking for. A sigh left through his lips when he saw the highlighted name and he fastened towards the pub. His pub.

The A's.

He pushed opened the classic timber door and pushed the swinging door next and halted.

It was empty. Except for the barmaid.

"Abed, is that you?"

Her thick English accent put him off, nonetheless he gave her a nod.

"Sameen!"

She paused arranging the bottles and came out from the back of the counter to greet him.

"It's been what, fours years since we last met or talked?!" She fiddled a laugh.

He shrugged and walked past her to take a seat in front of the counter. He took off his cap and tossed it on the counter allowing his messy damp hair to reveal its glory.

"Should I get you a drink?" She then asked, breaking the silence he had created.

"Yes." His deep and low tone did not give off anything good. "Whisky!"

"Scotch or Irish?" She regularly optioned.

Abed furrowed his brows, his quizzical expression confused her. "What happened to Bourbon?"

"Um, we don't sell it here anymore!" She nervously replied.

"Who is we?" He slowly asked, his eyes fixated on his cap as he played with its ends.

"The manager. Andrew."

He slowly nodded, pressing his lips. "Well tell Andrew that he's fired and so are you. I'll see to it that you get a proper job somewhere else where there are proper sales."

She only nodded.

"I want this place cleared by tomorrow noon." He then paused and took out the documents from his coat. "These are the singed documents, you know how to deal with them. I need news by the morn, call me to keep me updated, not about bloody progress, I want results. And you will have your share transferred to your account by the end of it."

"So you are giving up the bar?" She shyly asked, nervous that she might upset him.

"All the bars. It's all pointless anyway!"

"What is?" She went with the flow, like the typical barmaid she was.

Abed shot up his gaze at her. "Irish!"

He then answered her previous question instead of the last. Her flexible reflexes brought out the posh bottle right away and she pulled out a stylish, luxurious glass.

"Do you think you are considered to have a heart even after it's broken?" He asked, staring at the ceiling as his head rested back on the chair's top. His deep voice came off lost and sad.

"Of course, not!" The barmaid shrugged with a sense of logical thinking as she poured down the whiskey for him.

"They call me heartless after they have broken my heart!" He mocked a chuckle. "How the hell would I not be heartless in that case?"

"So who called you heartless after they broke your heart?" She wasn't really curious, only going with the flow like she's supposed to.

"Everyone I know and sometimes even the ones I don't!" There was something about his tone that moment, something so broken and something so hopeless that even the leftover silence in the entire room felt scared.

"I guess we all are born broken!" She carefully worded and stared at him. The latter's gaze was lost up into the space, the blank and into the unknown.

"In that case, I think there's wisdom in heartbreak. The things left unsaid stay with us forever. But, you cannot break something that is already broken. Even after a hundred and thousand lives." His deep whispers really broke her heart and she wished she knew what was going on with him.

She put the glass in front of him and leaned on the counter.

Even when you think your heart's not breaking, you fail to realize that you are really breaking underneath.

"Do you know what's it like to live while being dead? At times that's all how you feel. In the midst of life and death, and you keep waiting to move on when you know it in your bones that you never will. Sometimes the pain is in the mind. And that's what hurts more than the pain from the heart."

"Who are you grieving for?" She whispered.

"I'm not grieving, just full of regrets. And I realised that they are worse than losses."

He then straightened himself and grabbed the glass. As he brought the glass closer to his lips, he instantly reproved. Indicating towards the whisky he said, "Another of my regrets. You wanted to know what was pointless? This is, this whole place is. Everything in my life was, all I ever did was pointless. I just want to know what isn't. For that, I have to let go of the pointless."

He let the glass slip through his fingers to collide to break down.

Sameen flinched but soon gained back her composure.

"I want to break all over again so that I know it's not over. Isn't that what life is all about? Breaking and breaking even though you already are?!"

"Yes, it is!" She smiled as she could relate to him.

He then began, not meeting her interested gaze. "They all spoke of phobias and matters they were afraid of. Well, as humans similar matters in typical and general do cause fear in everyone. They were talking about the things which they were afraid of the most. I never understood all that because when they spoke of fear of heights, the next day I climbed up the building's 9th block and stood on the edge. It was thrilling yet satisfying. I knew I wasn't afraid of heights then. They spoke of fear of falling in love. In my case, whenever I fall in love I know it the moment that when the bottom hits me and breaks me, I could get over it like I'm used to it. That wasn't my fear, no. Some talked about trusting people, lizards, memories, narrowness, crowds, silence, loneliness, etcetera.
All these years when people have asked me about my fear, I have always failed to give them a proper answer."

"Did you find the answer yet?" She asked.

"While I was discovering my fear, I learnt that fear and weakness were correlated. Albeit the obviousness, it was a strike as because fear could be overcome but your weakness is always a part of you. Connected yet apart, my fear and my weakness was one. Freedom." He finally confessed.

"That was my weakness." He repeated.

"They say they cannot destroy what they don't know. I had the freedom to discover all that I didn't know and whilst that, other's fears had ruined me even when they hadn't been mine."

Drowned in misery, the void fixated in his chest was compelling him to live life as he was supposed to.

"I guess things work out in the strangest of ways. Like parallels yet they correlate." She commented.

"I want things to change, Sam!" He gave out a sigh after he had inhaled. "I want the world to change. I wish things had been different."

° ° °

Paris, France

"You don't wanna go shopping?" Ameen asked her as they entered the hotel room.

"I have nothing to shop for!" She shrugged.

"Fine, I will shop for you then. We will leave this evening." He said.

"Can we go somewhere else or do something else instead of that? I can't believe we came all the way here just to waste our time shopping!" She was bored already.

"It's shopping in Paris! Who wouldn't love that?!" Ameen frowned.

"That would be me." She sighed and slumped down on the bed.

"Yeah, I figured." He muttered, somewhat annoyed.

"You have been here before? Because you sound like you do!" Taraa's quizzical expression made him furrow his brows.

"Yeah, so what if I have been here before?"

"There's no problem, just wondering." She said while removing her abaya.

"I came here with my family. Wateen wanted to travel here so bad so we had no option. I hated it though."

Taraa made a face. "Now you look like you are loving it." She slowly said.

"Yeah, of course. Because it's with you." He said, like it was most obvious thing.

She gave him a small smile and went away to bathroom to freshen up.

° ° °

"I can't believe I'm in the middle of this!" She whispered with a sour expression.

"Relax it's just perfume! French if I may add!" Ameen assured while checking out the, what looked a million from a collection.

Taraa rolled her eyes and glanced around the shop, she was very bored as shopping wasn't really her thing. She walked away from Ameen and the salesman who were busy discussing the kinds of scent. She wouldn't look for perfume for her or for Ameen in particular. She was in search for something extraordinary since she had nothing better to do.

She smelled the different scents, tried them but they were all the very same, nothing quite what she was looking for. She tried with the names, the ones which gave her vibes. She tried imagining their scents, she tried mixing the scents but nothing caught her attention. 

"I like this!" Ameen chirped behind her and she only only shrugged. 

"You chose this for me?" She cringed when she smelt the perfume Ameen chose for her.

"I would love it on you, yes!" He smiled and laughed at her expression. 

Giving her up her hunt for the perfect odd scent, she then randomly picked up the very most random perfume that was on the very first shelf. 

"And I would love this on you!" She faked her expression and playfully slammed it on his chest.

"Do you even know the name?" Ameen said in between his laughter while she impatiently waited for him to check out.

"How romantic of you Ameen, I can't believe you actually made me do this. Picking each other's perfumes!?" She cringed the life out of her. 

"Well, I actually made an effort. I bought you the one I would actually like on you. And you, you don't even know what you chose for me."

"Well, forgive me! Not my fault that shop didn't have what I was looking for. Or many a times when the world doesn't adhere to my liking. Maybe I wouldn't like my preferences on you. Maybe I love what you'd prefer for you. Or just how you are is what I love on you."

They were walking through the busy streets late in the evening. The subtle crowd and the fused aroma of coffee and pastries lingered in the aura, the yellow street lights fitted in while the cold weather slowly wore off with the perfect breeze and the drizzle. 

Ameen abruptly captured her from the back, wrapping his arms around her as they continued walking and she yelped and giggled. "So that's a maybe?" 

She laughed and laughed and laughed. The echoes of her laughter ringed in his heart. She didn't know what exactly made her laugh or that she haven't realized when was the last time she had actually laughed that hard. But that she just did. And it felt good.

"Fine, it's not a maybe. It's a sure!"

"That's more like it!" He sighed with sarcasm and then released her as they both walked hand in hand towards the car. 

° ° °

"I realised I am not a fan of French cuisine." She mumbled while Ameen made a face.

"You would rather have those gross tacos from that pathetic restaurant?" He couldn't believe her.

Taraa remained unfazed. She watched the cerulean in the sky and  glanced at the velveteen of the flowers from time to time. The breeze took each of her breath away and there were reasons she thought back to particular thoughts and that time she didn't push them away or kept them at the back of her mind for later.

Even if a thousand nights have passed between them, her tangled mind wouldn't have imagined her and Ameen in Paris, together with revealing sides and new chapters.

"This was so random. We are so random at every single thing." She sighed, her expressions seemed disturbed.

"What?" Ameen looked at her puzzled.

Even when a thousand mountains stood between them, the walls were broken down each, gradually with time and love but without them even knowing.

"Doesn't it feel weird? Us?" She asked, hoping that he would understand.

He furrowed his brows in confusion. "It feels amazing and I'm loving it." He confessed and then she realised that he would never understand where she was coming from.

People were strange. It's like they wake up one morning and accept all the mundane buzz even when it came from an unknown and invisible force.

Maybe her thoughts were getting the better of her. Maybe it was totally normal and that she was only just overthinking and maybe she was paranoid of the premonition.

Leave the future alone.

"Yeah, it does." She replied back with a small smile. A pang of nostalgia pricked her heart, telling her that this moment would only be lived once.

She intertwined their hands and asked him, looking him in the eyes. "Do you ever feel like you are used to something, that you are strong enough to handle it when in reality at the back of the page you are actually crumbling and breaking?"

Ameen's face fell, he wished, just even if it was for a month she wouldn't be herself. "I'm not in the right position to answer that." The amount of annoyance that rolled off his tone broke her heart.

She steadily let go of his hand. She was disappointed, more like shocked that she cared about him. She was tired of caring and she hated to have thoughts that caused her grief. She was angry that he couldn't see her for what she really was and that he only saw her for what she really wasn't.

The thing is, it's hard to stick with permanence when temporal is easier to deal with.

"I mean, I don't understand. Why do you have to bring excuses to ruin the perfect moment?"

She stayed silent. The only thing perfect here is your ideas and made up fantasies.

"Sorry I asked!" She shook her head and started to walk away from him but he stopped her as he caught her arm.

He turned her around and apologized. "I'm sorry I snapped." He noticed how sensitive she could be when she really cared. It brought him a sense of satisfaction and affection. He was touched.

This pulse of a dream she felt off of him had no guarantee that it would last.

"I don't fall things or people, know that. Only thing I do is rise. Don't get your hopes high." She didn't care that she sounded cold, she wasn't being rude, only that she was being honest.

To Mankind,

I'm the very universe left unseen, I'm the infinity you had never known. Not to brag but the oceans my heart holds, their anonymity and intricacy are all what you're missing out on. The amusing part is that those oceans inside my heart are created all by you.

Inhumane, why does this word even exist when all of you are humans? No matter the hell, I believe that in each one of you consist of goodness and darkness, if not, see surely either of them will bloom in the right of time. I tried connecting with you, but all I received was an asynchronous reply. I made peace with this heartbreak as human connection never felt important to me again. A total heartbreak! But guess what? I'm used to it.

I did this to you as I knew you'd do the same to me. Haven't I made things easier? I let go of you all, I tried more than I could as it came to a point where I was the only one pushing the bond, when in a bond you aren't supposed to push, you are to connect without even knowing, that's how magnets work, that's how a connection is. But you knew nothing of that.

I forgive you for all that you made me go through, I apologise for my complexity and strangeness and I hope you all would forgive me too.

With respect,

Your Known soul

° ° °

Washington D.C, United States Of America

She may have broken his heart back in Paris but what she didn't know was that she had broken hers as well.

Taraa knew stepping into a world she didn't understand was dangerous but she had to do it in order to know. She thought back to the places they had visited in Paris. The art museum, sightseeing, the Tailor's Room where she had lost herself by trying all kinds of dresses. She remembered her laugh and Ameen's surprised expressions.

She paused her spiralling thoughts.

What happened to all that? Were they supposed to live out only once but a hundred and thousand times in the mind?

It hurt. Even just to think about it.

"Wow, I can't believe you had three omelettes all at once." Ameen commented whilst fixing his cufflink.

She shrugged, "You can't blame a girl for being hungry." Her voice was tired.

"You okay? You seem weird lately." He said as he strode toward her.

"Yeah, I guess it's Paris to blame. I have been feeling under the weather since!"

"Do you need to see a doctor?" He asked.

"Well, I had been seeing one and that did no good!" She raised a brow at his question.

Ameen chuckled, "Call me if you need anything." He then kissed her head and rushed off to head out but immediately halted in his tracks when he had heard her throw up.

She rushed to the washroom and threw up again. Ameen followed her.

"What's wrong?" Ameen asked with genuine concern.

"Three omelettes, lingering French cuisine and the nausea. No wonder I'm feeling under the weather. I'll just take some anti-nausea pills and solve the problem."

"Yeah!" He breathed out in relief. For a doctor, he did really freak out. "Take care of yourself and don't eat more than you can." He said eyeing her everywhere as she splashed water on her face.

"Yes, thanks for the tips. I'll get some shut eye and solve everything for a while if not completely." She said, walking past him towards the bedroom.

There he was, frozen, standing puzzled and in shock as his mind drifted to another theory, another possibility regarding her feeling under the weather.