I find myself in love with someone I can't have.
How they are a star so far across the universe.
How my heart yearns to touch the glowing starlight.
How I long to kiss their fingertips as my mind falls into their soul.
For they tend to be the greatest love I've ever known.
-CONEE BERDERA
__________________________________

I yank open the door of my wardrobe, I reach beneath the folds of my clothes and pull out Numair's picture from the very depths. Brown eyes crinkle with amusement at me. Lips parted in a smile beckoning me. And a hundred lies concealed beneath those false layers. Anger swirls within at him.

The photo frame crashes to the ground.

I bend down to pick up the pieces of the now shattered glass. In my peripheral vision, I see Maaz rush into the room at the noise. My hands grab wildly at the pieces on the floor, struggling to undo the damage I have done.

'Zara.' Maaz walks towards me with a horrified expression.

'Your hands.' Only then do I see the blood trickling down my palm. A brilliant bright red, the color of my anger, flowing down my hand leaving a trail behind as it moves.

Maaz reaches for me grasping my hand by the wrist inspecting the cut.

'Leave me.' I attempt to snatch my hand away in vain. His grasp remains firm. Pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket he dabs at the blood, wiping it away. He steers us away from the pieces on the floor.

His gaze fixed upon my palm he rubs the cloth down my hand. His calm manner infuriates me further. Anger fueling me I snatch my hand away. He looks up at me, hurt flashes through his eyes which does nothing to satiate my anger.

'Kiss me!' I scream pulling wildly at his collar. His brows furrow in confusion as he looks down at me.

'I said kiss me.' I yell. My voice is near hysterical.

His gaze travels to the pages I've left on the table, the shattered glass lying at our feet and understanding flashes in his eyes. Before he pushes me away I grab him. My hands wind behind his neck and I clutch his hair pulling his lips down to mine forcefully.

Nothing would have prepared me for the impact. Lightning courses through my body. Sparks emanating from his lips pass onto mine jolting me. My hands wind tighter into his hair on instinct pulling him even closer.

He lets out a gasp. He runs his hands down my arms prying them open freeing his neck. Gently he takes a step back breaking contact. I fight against his grasp to regain control. He enfolds my hands in his holding them firmly. He breathes heavily, cheeks flushed from my little exercise. I swallow hard as the insanity of my action comes crashing down on me. I look at my feet, mortified.

'You shouldn't have done that.' He says after some time. His grip on my hand loosens and when he is sure I wouldn't try again he leaves me and takes another step behind. I feel numb and cold.

I take a step back and when he doesn't move I rush outside. I lock myself in the guest room mortified at myself. I sit on the bed with the lights turned off, my mind a muddle of thoughts. I hear common sense yell at me for taking such a stupid step. If the earth wants to split open and swallow me I wouldn't complain.

What was I even thinking? Oh, right I wasn't thinking. What must he be thinking of me?

I hear the lock click behind me. I shut my eyes and hope I'm imagining it. I hear his soft tread as he approaches the bed but I don't turn. How do I face him now?

'I'd heard of kisses that make one see the heaven and the stars, you showed me they really do exist.'

I play with my fingers clasping them together. Please go away I mentally plead him to no avail. I still feel him behind me standing still.

'Turn around.' He says.

'Touch the ground.' I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind which happens to be the verse of a nursery rhyme, Teddy bear, teddy bear turn around, teddy bear, teddy bear touch the ground, my mind plays the rhyme inside my head. Of course, I'd come up with the most random possible reply.

He chuckles, 'I'm not a teddy.'

'Yes, you are not.' I mournfully say. 'Teddy's are great cuddly things that you can hug and sleep.' I need to shut up already.

'Why do you want a teddy when you have me?' His voice is low, sad and it tugs at my heart.

He climbs onto the bed from behind me, making me freeze. Slowly he turns me around to face him.

'He loved you.' He says softly. I twist my fingers around in my lap.

'He lied to me.'

'To keep you safe.'

'Still a liar.' I say.

'No, a lover.'

'Why are you defending him anyway?' I say, frustrated although a little part of me is curious.

Maaz stays quiet looking keenly at me, his eyes inspect my now healed scar. I crash onto the pillows, the events exhausting me mentally. I am unclear about Numair, I cannot imagine how he could think keeping me in the dark would be the right thing to do.

He was right, choices have consequences which are beyond our choice. We can only make decisions and hope that they lead to the right consequences.

'How did you receive the letter? Why not me?' I ask. Maaz has switched on the night lamp. The room glows with yellow light. He lowers himself onto the pillow beside mine.

'He gave it to me because he wanted you to receive the letter after a certain time, after you had stopped grieving him.' Maaz turns his head on the pillow to face me.

'Did he imagine my love to be so vain that I will stop grieving him?'

'He wanted you to remember his love as a treasured memory, not a grievance.'

'You said, gave me. Does that mean personally? You mean you met him.' I jerk up from the bed as realization dawns on me. I look down with bated breath at Maaz.

He lies still and closes his eyes. A minute passes before he answers, 'Yes.'

'When?'

'After he left you.'

I am at a point where nothing could surprise me. Every unexpected thing has been thrown my way. It has become second nature to expect the unexpected.

Maaz reads my eyes, 'I will tell you about it later, not tonight. This has been enough for one day.' He says firmly.

I settle down onto my pillow giving in. As much as I burned to know the details, I was afraid my mind would collapse at the amount of information. Already facts had been mingled with assumptions and dreads inside my head.

'You were there when he met with the accident.' I whisper into the darkness.

He turns his head sharply to me, 'Who told you that?'

'Harry. He came here a few days ago, and showed me photographic evidence, your wallet and my picture inside it.' I confess.

'And you believed him?'

'He had evidence.' I respond.

'Of course. It was only sensible.' He mumbles.

'But I believed you had an explanation.'

'Why didn't you ask me?'

'I just did.'

'Yes, I was there at the time of the accident.' He closes the distance between us and pulls me to him. He pulls the comforter over us tucking us in.

'I promise I will tell you the whole story until then I suggest you don't trust Harry.' He says into my ear.

'And Harry told me not to trust you.' I say with exasperation.

'Who do you trust?' He asks.

'You are making it very hard for me to trust you with all the secrecy.'

'So Harry?'

'No.' I snort.

I wake up disoriented in unfamiliar surroundings. Instead of my white comforter, I'm under a dark green one, the walls around me aren't blue but yellow. Pale yellow curtains are drawn across a small window. I recall I had fallen asleep inside the guest room. Maaz isn't beside me.

My head feels heavy and I crave to crawl back under the covers and never wake again. I am afraid to stay awake and face what today will bring me.

I try to prepare myself inside the shower. I imagine all events of yesterday flowing out along with the water down the drain leaving a fresh, clean and prepared me for today.

When I enter the living room, Arhaan and Maaz are engaged in conversation. My hair is wet from the shower and still uncombed. I wasn't expecting guests. Before I retreat, Maaz spots me and smiles at me warmly. His smile is hesitant, wary as if he is waiting for me to break down. I give him a hesitant smile of my own.

Arhaan raises his eyebrows in silent question and Maaz nods.

'How are you?' Arhaan asks politely.

'Peachy.'

'Breakfast is on the counter. It's still warm.' Maaz says.

'Is this yours?' Maaz asks me as I rinse my plate. I look at the simple black pen he holds in his palm.

'No.'

'I told you, it has to be him.' Arhaan interjects walking into the kitchen.

'Be who?' I ask.

Maaz observes me for a moment before replying, 'Harry.'

I wait for him to complete. He exchanges another glance with Arhaan.

'That pen is a cheap spy device.' Arhaan begins, he approaches Maaz and lifts the pen from his hand and points at the top.

'This is an embedded camera. This was placed inside your bedroom.' He says.

'Bedroom? That's disgusting. Why would someone do that?' I say.

'We think it is Harry. He is already suspicious about me and hadn't you said he was inside the room the other day?' Maaz asks me.

I nod silently.

There is a rap on the door joining the houses. From the characteristic three short raps, I know it has to be Ira.

'Am I interrupting?' Ira peers in looking from Maaz to Arhaan.

'No!' Maaz says.

Ira looks weary, bags hang around her bloodshot eyes. Her short black hair is tied haphazardly.

'I wanted to talk...' Ira trails off.

Arhaan catches the hint, 'I've got to swing by work, I'll see you in the evening.'

Following suit, I begin to follow Arhaan out the door leaving the brother-sister duo to talk.

'Zara! Stay.' Ira says abruptly. I pause mid-step.

'But..' I object.

'You are family.' She states firmly taking me by surprise.

'A friend saw Harry with a girl at the mall...' She starts.

'Yes, Ira we know. Don't trouble yourself by repeating.' Maaz interrupts.

'Will you let me finish?'

Maaz smiles sheepishly at her. Rolling up the sleeves of his pale blue shirt, a frequent habit of his, he nods at her.

'She took pictures. I came to show you those.' Ira completes. 

Maaz lets out a small exclamation, he remains poker-faced as Ira pulls out her phone and searches the picture. I feel intrusive even though Ira had assured me. I try to imitate Maaz's blank expression as Ira holds up the phone in front of us.

A short mousy brown haired girl has her hand linked with Harry's. Her hazel eyes are bright as she smiles up at him.

In spite of trying I fail to stifle my gasp while Maaz stiffens beside me. 

'Are you sure she isn't a colleague or something?' Maaz asks hopefully.

'No, she said they seemed cozy, unlike colleagues.' Ira confirms.

I look at Maaz unsure how to respond.

'What is it? Do you know her?' Ira asks a little sharply looking between us.

'But... it's not possible, she already...' Maaz murmurs and I fail to catch the end of his sentence. Ira taps her foot, waiting but Maaz seems to be lost in thought. Her eyes drift to me in question.

'That is Aylin. The receptionist at Smile.' I answer.

                                                                                                    ***

A/N; Hey there ;)

How you doing? I am so happy to see you stick with me until here. You are a pure gem for supporting me. I can never thank you enough.

I hope things are finally beginning to make sense now... a lot of these have been hinted in the initial chapters! 

Have you guys wondered about character aesthetics for your favorite character? Or better mentally made one in your head? I'd love to see them! Send them to me!!

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