They were not who they were the day before.

She looked at him with eyes that had never seen him before. It was as if she had gained a new sense of awareness to his presence and every second that he spent next to her sent her heart crashing straight to the ground.

She ran her tongue along her lips, still savouring the way it felt pressed against his as she rolled onto her back to stare at their ceiling. She was happy and her heart was happy for the first time in many, many years. It was temporary and she was sure it would be gone in the blink of an eye but for that moment- it didn't matter. It didn't matter that her happiness might be short lived because even the memory of happiness would be enough for her. She was grateful for it. She had never realised that she ought to be grateful for every second of happiness but when she tasted it after so many years without it- she would gladly sacrifice every part of her just to hold on to it. It was limitless and priceless and it was so truly beautiful that she was sure nothing as wondrous had ever been created.

His deep breaths filled their room as the gentle sun peeked into their room to greet them. He would wake up with its light. It was too hot and too bright to stay asleep in its presence but she didn't mind. She stretched behind her, switching off their lamp before turning to side to look at him once again. She had nothing to fear as he lay sleeping beside her.

She knew he would never pressure her or push her to moving at a pace she wasn't comfortable with but she was her own worst enemy. Doubt and unease plagued her mind whenever she looked at him. He was a man and though it may not have been the only thing on his mind, she knew he wanted the one thing she could not give him. Those niggling thoughts would mock at her, forcing her to consider the notion that he would get tired of waiting for her and she hated herself for it.

But with him sleeping beside her, she could look at him unabashed. She gently traced the line of his nose- touching him so softly that were he to feel it, he would think it nothing more that the light touch of a ladybird's wing. She could count the freckles on his face and follow their path down his neck towards his chest. She could look at him knowing he would not look at her in the same way and that thought comforted her if just for a second.

"You make me so happy." Her whispers were heard only by the sunlight that streamed through their room. "And I am so happy that I got onto that bus with you."

She thought back to that day, shuddering at the memory of it. She could still remember the feeling of all those pills in her mouth. She had dropped the pills into her hand, counting them morbidly as she did so. There were 17 pills in her hand and before she knew it, she could taste its bitterness searing her throat. She could still feel her brother's touch on her and she could taste her own blood on his lips. She was relieved.

She was so relieved that would never again endure his touch or kisses. Or feel the things he did to her body.

She was happy to die. To escape. And as she looked out her window, she caught a glimpse of a sunflower shoot. It was still small but it was bright and green and vibrant. It was still alive after dying at the hands of a lightening so large that it lit up the sky.

It was alive. It lived.

She would live. She was not alive but she would live.

"When I'm with you, I feel as if I'm doing more than just living."

She smiled, cupping his jaw in the palm of her hand before she leaned in just a little closer to him. "Thank you." She whispered against his lips as she kissed him just once, closing her eyes as if to imprint it to memory.

She opened her eyes, moving back carefully before his hand gripped hers gently. "Stay here." His eyes were still closed but he could feel her warmth as she moved closer to him once again.

And they closed their eyes, losing themselves to dreams once again.

...

He didn't want to wake her as he got out of bed. It was early still and neither had work but he couldn't sleep. He lifted his covers quietly but he stilled on the edge of his mattress as he felt her fingertips move slowly, delicately up his spine. He shivered at the touch, breaking out into goosebumps along the trail of her hand. "Did your father do this to you?"

Never had it been mentioned that it was Zaheer that had hurt him. He had never implicitly claimed it and to have her say those words caused his mind to go into overdrive. No matter how old he was or how far away from his father he could be, Zaheer haunted him. He still haunted his every step and every thought. He was the reasoning behind every single decision Riaz had taken regardless of how miniscule it may have been. There was a reason their flat was constantly turned around or their beds moved or their shelves re-arranged. There was a reason Riaz would be sent into a near panic if he didn't change the duvet almost every week. It was Zaheer who was the shadow controlling his fears and his ideas. He couldn't step into the ocean because his father had instilled the fear of water in him. He couldn't be alone in the dark because his father had made the dark silence unbearable for him. He couldn't touch and love Tasneem as he wanted to because his father had taught him that gentleness was weak. That the only way to gain anything in this world was by force and he could never forget his words.

He was small.

He would always be small because his father had kicked him down so many times that he had forgotten how to stand tall again.

"I was 8 years old." Tasneem was surprised to hear him speak. "I lied to my Dad and he found out."

Riaz couldn't look at her as he spoke. To look at her would mean conceding defeat and he couldn't allow himself to show her just how truly terrified he still felt.

"He asked me if I lied and I told him I hadn't. He chased me across the kitchen and I thought I could make it to the bathroom but he was too fast for me." His fisted his hands over his eyes, trying to block out the vivid details of his memories. "He had his knee on my back and he forced me to lift my t-shirt." The marks on his back rippled with a phantom pain long forgotten. "He asked me if I lied and I told him no. And he took a matchstick out of his pocket and he lit it and he asked again if I lied."

Riaz had forgotten that he was speaking at all. It was as if he was reliving that moment over and over again and the more he spoke, the more real it all felt. "I told him I lied and I told him that I was sorry but he hates lying more than anything else."

He could feel the rug push against his stomach as his father's knee dug deeper and deeper into his back and he could hear his mother's gasp as she walked into the lounge. He could smell his father's cologne and he could still feel it. He could feel his legs shake uncontrollably and he could feel his heart jackhammering against his ribs. He could feel the warm, wet, sticky substance coat his pants as his father burnt him once-

Twice.

Thrice.

Till his spine was decorated with tiny black circles and the house echoed with his wails.

And each time his father burnt him he forced him to lie once again.

"I hate my father."

His soft words echoed through her ears.

"I hate him and fear him in equal measures." He admitted- though to himself or to her, he would never be sure.

"How did he get away with it?" He knew what she meant.

He finally turned around to face her, noting the feint trace of stretch marks beneath her shoulders. "He's a medical lawyer. What he knows is enough to get a medical license revoked." He smiled, though no traces of humour could be found on his face. "Much like the police, not all doctors are there simply to help people."

She looked at him, watching him turn away as he stood up. She watched the muscles in his back strain as he stretched out the kinks in his back and the muscles in his shoulders tense as he cracked his neck. "Go back to sleep." His voice sounded sad as he walked away, trying to escape whatever memories that had followed him into their room.

His hand was on the doorknob of their bathroom when he heard her steps trail slowly behind him. "I'm sorry." He could feel her chest press against his back as she stood on her tiptoes to speak into his ear. "I'm so sorry Riaz."

She wrapped her arms around his waist, allowing herself to feel the tension slowly melt away from his body. His back felt hot against her cheek and his pyjama pants felt scratchy against her bare legs but she paid it no mind. All that mattered was the feeling of his skin against her own and his fingers that had slowly intertwined themselves with hers.

He felt her lips press softly against his spine. Her kiss was gentle and lingered for just a moment longer before she unwound her arms from around him and walked away.