It was two weeks after the accident when Nila finally broke free from the coma.

Saba had called just as he was leaving class, and he made his way to the hospital as soon as he dropped his books off.

But she'd already fallen back to sleep when he got there.

"She's still tired mate." Bilal said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Mikhail nodded understandingly.

Yet he hung back, waiting and hoping she'd wake up again in the polysterine chair by her bed, so he could apologise.

For not acknowledging his feelings sooner.

For not fighting for her after Oman.

For not seeing his brother for the homophobic monster he was.

Nila, however, remained in her slumber, with long eyelashes brushing against her cheeks and body bandaged in various parts.

He leaned down towards her, and pecked her bruised forehead gently.

When he raised his head again, his brown eyes swept over her face again. He remembered the dirty looks she'd given him in secondary, the lustful looks she that special night and the smirk she shot when his brother engaged her.

As all she memories began to flood in, he knew that he could no longer be around her anymore.

For both their sakes.

So he leaned down to peck her again.

"This is goodbye, Nilanjona."