“Ahh! I'm in heaven…”

Akram sighed deeply after he'd had a few sips of his homemade cappuccino. He lolled back on his chair in the kitchen/dining area, eyes closed, tipping his head back with a satisfied smile on his face.

My lips curved into a big grin. His actions were somewhat exaggerated , but I couldn't help enjoying every bit. The fact that I'd done something that made him so content lightened my soul for a moment.

“I'm pretty sure we're still in Manhattan,” I teased, crossing my arms over the kitchen table.

Akram slowly opened his eyes, squinting at me and his smile widened.

“Wrong.” He wiggled his index finger. “I’m pretty sure it's heaven. We have enough snacks to last for a month, my headache is finally gone, and an angel just made me the best coffee I've ever had.”

It took me a minute to process what he just said and my heartbeat raised the roof. My cheeks burned fiercely while I fiddled with my fingers.

“It’s, uh… the new gadget,” I laughed away his compliment. “It's super easy, I practically didn't do anything.”

“You’re too modest.” Akram lifted the coffee mug between his palms and took in a long sip. “I could've mangled the poor machine on the first try. I don't know how to thank you.”

“Don't.” I shook my head, tucking my hair back. “I'm happy to help.”

Akram grinned. “I'm happier.”

Great! Now you must leave before you make him unhappy again!

The wretched realistic voice in my head nagged at me. And I knew fairly well that I should listen.

I rose up slowly, holding onto the edge of the kitchen table. “I guess it's time to go.”

Akram sprang up, his expression alarmed. “Now?”

“Yeah. I've taken so much of your time today.”

“Wait.” Akram held up his hands, placing his palms together in a visible plea.

My muscles tensed up, staring at him inquisitively.

“Actually, uh.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “There's someone I want you to meet.”

“Someone?!”

I thought he was living alone. Who could it be? And why does he want me to meet him? Or her? Oh God! This is going to be embarrassing!  

“Come, please?” Akram motioned to the front hall.

I gulped. “W-who is it?”

“Just a friend.” He beamed. “I'm sure you'll like him.”

Him? Oh my goodness!

A little shaky, I followed Akram all through the front hallway, trying to guess who the 'friend’ could be and trying not to think any more morbid thoughts. He guided me until we entered the door at the end of the corridor.

Perplexed, I noted a massive wooden figure placed awkwardly in the middle of the room.

My eyebrows rose at the beauty of the expensive centerpiece; an ebony baby grand piano. It wasn't huge, but it nearly occupied one third of the living room. I stepped closer and touched the top of the piano, which had a sleek, glossy finish.

I tilted my head to peek in Akram's direction. He had the most exquisite smile as he pointed out. “This is my baby. His name is Wolfie.”

“He's stunning. I've never seen one before.” I circled slowly around the curve of the piano to the keyboard side. “And I thought you're living alone.”

He chuckled and followed suit, walking around the opposite side. He stopped​ in front of the beautifully crafted instrument, two feet away from me.

“He’s my friend and my most valuable possession. A gift from my mother.” He beamed, fixing his eyes on mine.

Evading his gaze, I looked around the relatively spacious room. Natural light peeked through the French window on the back wall, reflecting on the shiny hardwood floor. A cushy recliner chair lay at the left corner of the window, creating a perfect spot for relaxation. To the right, a small entertainment unit faced the sitting area. A dark blue sofa and a rectangular coffee table occupied the left side. A vibrant painting in yellows and blues spread on the wall behind them.

I turned to glance up at Akram and my lips curved into a faint smile that lifted my cheeks. "You have a lovely apartment."

"Thank you.” Arching an eyebrow at me, he continued, “so, would you like to watch Wolfie in action?”

“Uh..!” I hesitated, but the idea was enthralling. Watching Akram playing his piano firsthand tempted me to stay a bit longer. Even though I shouldn't. I couldn't help being disgusted with myself that I enjoyed his attention and welcomed his sweet distractions. Not to mention that he let me use his bed and bathroom and fed me. I didn't deserve any of this. I knew it very well, but my selfishness got the best of me.

“I thought... you'd like to see me play.” Akram bowed his head and glanced up. “But it's alright if --”

"I actually can't wait," I said in all honesty. I couldn't bear to disappoint him about his biggest passion.

Akram's eyes twinkled. “Any special requests?”

“Um! I'm not so clever when it comes to classical music.” I glanced at his fingers, already moving in succession on his side as if to warm up before the show begins. “What’s your favorite?”

“Hmm!” Akram stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Alright. One second.”

Dumbfounded, I stood still while Akram darted out of the room. A minute later he came back with a chair. He placed it next to his piano seat, patted on it, and raised a smile for me. “Front row seat for Miss. Summer.”

My cheeks bloomed in response and I thanked him. I bit my lips and sat down quietly, bracing myself for the coming moment.

"I really hope you like it." Akram nodded in earnest, an excited spark in his eyes as he pulled back the seat and took his place beside me. He turned to face the clavier, his back straight, arms slightly bent, long fingers spread out across the keys. He closed his eyes and stilled for a moment, before the heavenly sounds filled the room.

The music was so soft and tender, deeply soothing that my body tingled from head to toe. Those little hammers inside the piano seemed to strike my nerve ends. I shivered, clenched my arms around my body, and inhaled, letting the melodies seep into me like a drug.

Akram's graceful hands glided like ocean waves embracing the shore. His fingertips barely touched the ivories, tickling the whites and blacks with so much care and fluency. The music flowed, leapt, and waltzed, complying with his command, rising and falling, striking high and low, going slow and vigorous.

Automatically, my heartbeat copied the sounds, catching the rhythm of the music. The tempo seemed to control my own breathing, forcing me to hyperventilate until I was lightheaded.

Enchanted, I stared at the magical movements, recalling the first time I'd seen his mysterious workout at the café. I'd listened to him on the phone before, but it was so different up close. More intimate and compelling.

My gaze crept up to watch Akram's face. He looked glorious. His upper body swayed in unison with the song. Soft strands of his brown hair arched down on his forehead, his eyes intense and focused, lips slightly parted. His expressions changed with the music, translating the sounds in his own silent language. He smiled. He frowned. He pressed his lips and released them. He raised and lowered his eyebrows. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, as if he were inhaling the melodies. His visage was more lively than I'd ever seen it.

Akram was there, but not there at the same time. He lost himself in a pleasurable trance and united with the silvery tones of his piano. The sight was as intense as a passionate love scene that knotted my stomach, heated up my face, and made my heart pound faster.

The song slowed down. Akram turned his face to give me a quick, sweet-cinnamon glance. The corners of his mouth crinkled in exhilaration as he continued to mesmerize me with his touching performance.

My breath faltered and I pinned my lips tightly together, keeping my eyes on his hands instead. They caressed the keyboard with pure gentleness and devotion.

Confusion poured into me when  I caught myself envying the clavier for getting all the affection. The way Akram stroked his piano was that of a lover treating his beloved with the utmost care and adoration. He'd said the piano was his 'baby’ and I could see how accurate he'd been.

Even with my vivid imagination, I wouldn't dare to think of Akram being as affectionate with me someday, but what I didn't expect was how painfully I resisted the urge to get up and..…!

And do what? Hug him? Kiss him and run away? God, this is wrong! what's happening to me?!!

Hearing my pulse ringing in my head, I dug my nails into my upper-arms to stop myself from doing anything I might regret. I fixed a wide stare on Akram's fingers while he slowed down until the music ceased.

The sounds​ fading into nothing shoved a bitter lump into my throat and I began to shake. Something in this moment resembled my life. Every small pleasure I'd experienced had to come to an end. The good times with Ash in the café had to end. The song had to end. This day had to end. And someday, Akram would just disappear for good and this little hope stirring inside me would come to an end.

My eyes began to sting and I quit breathing, hoping to stifle an aching sob that scorched my chest.

I wanted this moment with Akram to be my anchor to reality, but it was impossible. I shouldn't even think about it. Did I forget my place? What I am? What I lacked? How much I'd hurt Akram and lied to him? Did I forget I was yet to reveal the truth and face the consequences?

I squeezed my eyes shut.

The weight of my burden rocked my insides and a black cloud shrouded my head. Flashes of the past attacked my thoughts viciously. All the times I'd hoped to have a home. A family. A concrete reality of my own. Then all of this being crushed in that accident when I was thirteen. Then all the losses and failures until I'd ended up in the streets last night. I wanted to believe it wasn't fair but… how could I be sure?

A soft touch brushed my face, bringing me back to the present. I became suddenly aware of the hot moisture on my cheeks.

My head jerked up to find Akram leaning forward, wiping a stream of​ tears that had been spouting without my permission. There were anxious lines across his forehead and his eyes held his evident concern along with the dark shadows across his lids.

“I'm sorry.” He straightened up on his seat, hands on his knees, while he scanned my face. “Was it that terrible?”

"No!" I wiped the remaining tears with the back of my hand. "It's... It's beautiful."

“But you're crying,” Akram said softly.

“Your music is just so... touching.” My eyes escaped to glance at the patterns of the woolen carpet under our feet.

“Moonlight sonata is not my music. I'm afraid Beethoven beat me to it.” Akram chuckled faintly. He stared down and let his fingers rake through his hair. “Let me try something else.”

“Akram, you don't have to…”

“Please, just… try to forget everything and listen,” Akram almost groaned in frustration, his eyes pleading.

I folded my arms and pressed my lips together, taken aback by his response. He was trying hard and I obviously wasn't helping.

Akram revolved towards the piano. He extended a single hand and played a couple of separate notes, testing notes, I presumed.

It didn't sound like classical music, but more like old pop songs. The tune was light and graceful. My eyes automatically followed the movement of his nimble hands.

Akram paused over the clavier without lifting his fingers. "Does this sound familiar?" He asked.

I shook my head in confusion.

He nodded and started over. The new song emerged, but this time Akram cleared his throat, and sang along with the music….

Who is the girl with the crying face,
Looking at millions of signs.
She knows that life is a running race,
Her face shouldn't show any lines.
Melody Fair won't you comb your hair,
You can be beautiful too.
Melody Fair,
Remember you're only young once,
Melody Fair,
Remember you're only a girl.
Who is the girl at the window pane,
Watching the rain falling down.
Melody, life isn't like the rain,
It's just like the merry-go-round.
Melody fair won't you comb your hair,
You can be beautiful too.
Melody fair,
Remember you're only a girl.

Akram's singing voice was a sweet, mellow tenor. So sweet it made my heart stammer and my jaw drop for a long moment. Akram ended the song and rotated to face me in silence, apparently​ waiting for my feedback.

I didn't see this coming. It's not fair he has all the talent and I have nothing to give back. Making him coffee isn't enough to fit the bill.

"You can sing?!" I asked in astonishment, still ogling like a moron while asking an equally moronic question that was already answered.

"A little.” He made a funny face. “Don't tell anyone. It's a secret. "

Shaking my head, I took a long breath to control my emotional jumble. I had no idea what to expect anymore.

"Did you just.. make this up?" I asked, feeling like a trifle. Perhaps trying to survive was my only talent.

"Nah. I'm not so original." He twisted his mouth. "The Bee Gees beat me to it."

"That's old, isn't it?" I was curious. The song lyrics didn't seem like a coincidence.

“The 70’s. My mom let me borrow her records when I was a kid.” He smiled fondly. “It was in an old movie. I was eleven and I kind of… had a crush on the actress.”

My eyebrows flew up when Akram scratched his brow. His face turned a visible shade of red. It was adorable to see him blush.

"Was she pretty?" I crooned, surprised of the pinch of irritation I felt.

“Very.” He rolled his eyes. "She was twelve.”

A relieved smile touched my lips. His mood seemed to have a serious effect on mine. His cute distractions worked even though he probably wasn't trying.

My smile fell instantly when I turned my gaze towards the window. It was getting dark outside. The heaviness returned to press on my chest once again. This was it. The moment of peace was over.

“Akram, I… I can't thank you enough.” I croaked, swallowing a hard lump. “But I should get going. It's getting late.”

Akram's face dimmed, his back tensed up. “Oh! But, uh! Where to?” Akram asked.

“I need to go. Well... you know…” I stuttered.

“You're leaving me so soon?” His puppy face returned, but I couldn't let it affect me this time.

“So soon?” My eyes narrowed.  “I've been here all day.”

“I didn't notice the time.” Akram sighed, his shoulders slumped. “Am I too boring?”

“No! No! But I have to go. You must have important things to do and I... I shouldn't bug you much longer. I have stuff to sort out too. Lots of stuff,” I rambled on, fidgeting with my fingers and sprang up from my chair. “Where are my things? I think I left my bag in the...”

Akram raised quickly from his seat, shoving his fine hair back. “Your things are safe. Don't worry.”

I blinked, shaking my head. “What do you mean ‘my things are safe’?”

Akram linked his fingers together and bit his lip. He gave me a silent glance and dropped his gaze to the floor. He looked like a child, scared of his mother's reaction to his bad grades.

“What? Are they confiscated?!” I exclaimed, trying to sound sarcastic.

“Well...” Akram stared at the ground for a minute. He shifted his legs, massaging the back of his neck.

My eyes widened and I crossed my arms tightly. “Akram, you’ve been acting weird. What's going on?” I shrilled. “Why have you been distracting me all day?”

Akram pursed his lips, his forehead puckered. He stayed silent for a moment, not wanting to meet my eyes.

“Akram, tell me, please!” I almost yelled.

“It's because…” A low throaty voice came out. Akram cleared his throat and drew in a sharp breath. “I don't want you to leave.”

I staggered, nearly losing my balance and tripping over the edge of the carpet. I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly, when Akram slowly lifted his eyes and continued. “I'm trying to... figure out a way to make you stay.”

***

Hello dear ones!

Yup! That's it! That's why Akram was acting strange. I think you probably guessed the reason, didn't you?

I hope you enjoyed this update after this long wait. I really miss you guys and I hope it doesn't disappoint you. Please vote and comment your thoughts, I'd really appreciate it.

PRETTY PLEASE!!!! Listen to the songs in this chapter. (Moonlight Sonata) is what inspired me to write Akram. And (Melody Fair) is what inspired my girl Melody. I really hope you like the music.

P.s. if you get the reference of  'Wolfie' name you get a free cookie and a shout-out in my message board... 😉