30th October, 2018

Silence.

Awkward silence.

And neither of them made the slightest effort to end it.

Just moments ago, they had been laughing like children, caught in the sheer thrill of the chase. Eram had run off in no particular direction, her only goal being to avoid Shumail. Their laughter echoed across the open amusement park, blurring the line between adulthood and the innocence they had once left behind.

Eram sprinted, breathless and giddy, occasionally glancing over her shoulder. Shumail was right behind her, not even pretending to hold back. When she turned her head for one last look, he was just a few steps away, eyes bright, hair ruffled by the wind. Her heart skipped a beat—not just from the running.

And that was the moment she slipped.

A startled shriek escaped her lips as her feet gave way beneath her. Her eyes shut tightly, bracing for the impact. But it never came.

Instead, she felt the secure warmth of strong arms catching her mid-fall. Her eyes fluttered open in narrow slits, taking in her surroundings—or trying to. But all she could see were hazel eyes staring back at her, filled with something that made her breath hitch.

Shumail was slightly bent, his arms wrapped protectively around her. Their faces were inches apart. Time slowed, the park faded, and for that fleeting moment, it was just the two of them suspended in space and something far more dangerous—emotion.

He cleared his throat hastily and helped her to her feet, his touch lingering for a second too long. "You okay?" he mumbled, not trusting his voice.

Eram adjusted her hijab quickly, her cheeks flushed, and nodded without meeting his eyes.

"Sorry," he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

She only offered a small nod, still looking anywhere but at him.

"We should... umm..." he trailed off, struggling to string a sentence together.

"Oh, words, where are you when I need you?" he muttered under his breath before composing himself. "Let's check out another ride," he finally managed, already walking ahead without waiting for her response.

She followed, taking tiny embarrassed steps, hoping the earth would swallow her whole. But as they moved from ride to ride, the awkwardness melted bit by bit, replaced once again with shared laughter and playful teasing.

By evening, they had ridden the roller coaster seven times—yes, seven. Shumail had been horrified the first time and had declared, with absolute confidence, "I value my internal organs too much for this madness."

But Eram had flashed him a smug grin. "Chicken much?"

His manly pride couldn't take the hit. He got on.

The moment the ride started, Shumail screamed so loud, he put every child within a hundred-foot radius to shame. He had clutched the safety bar like it was his last connection to the mortal world, all while loudly reciting every surah and ayah he could remember.

When they finally stumbled off the first ride, breathless and half-alive, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"You should've seen your face!" Eram laughed, holding her stomach.

"My face?!" Shumail gasped. "You were screaming like someone just stole your biryani."

"Excuse me! At least I wasn't yelling Quranic verses like a terrified Imam!"

"I wasn't yelling— I was spiritually protecting us!"

"Sure," she drawled with a smirk. "Then let's ride again and see who's the braver soul."

The competitive streak kicked in, and that's how they ended up screaming their lungs out on repeat.

After their final ride and a snack break involving suspiciously overpriced cotton candy, they walked toward the parking lot. The mood shifted as they neared the car. The giddiness was replaced by something heavier.

Shumail stopped the car outside her apartment, engine still running. They both sat in silence again, gazing out of the windshield like the night sky held answers to their unspoken thoughts.

"I'm flying to Japan tomorrow," he said suddenly.

Her head turned, eyes wide. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Business trip. Could be a couple of weeks... or maybe a month. Depends on how things go."

"Oh," she said softly, the word feeling far too small for the ache in her chest.

"I know it's last minute. I just... I wanted to see you before I left," he added, still not looking at her.

She blinked at him, lips parting like she wanted to say something. But then, without a word, she grabbed her bag and opened the car door.

"Eram, wait—"

Too late. She was already running to the building, disappearing through the elevator doors.

"Ms. Azam!" he called after her, rushing out of the car.

But she was gone.

Frustrated, Shumail kicked his car's tire. "Great. Fantastic. Brilliant execution, Romeo."

He waited by the car, hoping she might return. She didn't.

That night, sleep didn't come easy. He kept checking his phone like a man possessed. But no message came. Morning arrived, and still nothing.

By the time he reached the airport with his bags in tow, his friends Zaid, Aahil, and Shahmeer were there to see him off.

"Bring back a samurai sword!" Aahil joked.

"Or a Japanese girlfriend," Zaid added with a wink.

Shumail managed a weak chuckle. "Very helpful, guys. Really."

He boarded the private jet with his tech team and secretary, trying to shake off the hollow feeling.

Twelve hours. That's how long the flight was from Toronto to Tokyo.

The moment they took off, Shumail collapsed on the bed in his cabin and passed out. Sleep came easily—he hadn't gotten any the night before.

When he woke, eight hours later, he stretched, checked his phone, and groaned.

Still no message.

Losing patience, he texted her.

Hi!

A pause. Still no response.

How are you?

Crickets.

With a dramatic sigh, he tossed his phone aside and went to freshen up. He played Xbox in his room for a bit, downed a few snacks, and tried to convince himself he wasn't checking his phone every five minutes.

Eventually, they landed. Cars arranged by Mr. Chang—his Japanese client—took them to the hotel. Shumail was given a luxurious suite that screamed, we're very rich and want you to know it.

Still not sleepy, he made wudu, used his Qibla app, and offered his Isha and missed prayers. Afterward, he settled into bed with his laptop, intending to work.

Two hours later, he was eating chips, playing Xbox, and had drawn a mustache on one of the game characters.

He woke up the next morning with his controller on his chest and pizza crumbs on his shirt.

The day was hectic. Meetings. Presentations. Arguments over phone designs. Mr. Chang, a dignified man in his fifties, was calm and composed—unlike Shumail, who nearly fell asleep during a technical debate.

By evening, everyone was starving.

"Mr. Ibrahim, would you like to stay for dinner?" Mr. Chang offered.

Shumail smiled politely. "Thank you, sir, but I have... dietary restrictions."

A tactical retreat. Halal concerns saved him.

He piled into one of the cars with his team. Mid-drive, he spotted a halal restaurant.

"Driver, pull over! That's our salvation!"

He turned to his team. "Order whatever you want. It's on me."

Everyone stared at him.

"What? Do I have a pimple?"

"N-No sir," they stammered.

"I'm not a robot. I eat. Like normal people. Now stop gawking and pick your poison."

They laughed nervously and placed their orders. Shumail devoured a Mexican cheese burst pizza like it was his last meal on Earth.

When he returned to his suite, prayed his missed salah, and flopped onto bed, he checked his phone again.

She'd read the messages.

Still no reply.

His fingers hovered over the screen.

I've reached Japan safely, Alhamdulillah. Sorry couldn't contact you earlier. I was busy with work and stuff -_-'

Send.

What are you doing? How was your day?

Send.

He saw the blue ticks. She was online.

But again—no reply.

He sighed, clutching his phone to his chest.

"Why is this woman treating me like an unread email?" he muttered.

Hoping for a miracle, he finally dozed off, dreaming of roller coasters, screaming surahs, and the girl who made silence feel louder than the chaos.

Heyya guys!!

I know I'm late but sorry couldn't help it.. ):

Anyways How was the chap?

Shumail's gone...now how do you think the story will unfold??

Your thoughts on her reaction to his trip? Why did she reacted that way?

Comment down below and lemme know

Umm I wanted covers for all my three stories and was thinking to host a competition for it...Any one here who's interested??
Just post a comment beside this text with "I'm in"
Whoever takes part and makes covers I'll post the respective cover in the respective story and then you guys can vote for the best cover and help me select the winner...what say??
I'll write about the rules in more detail in the next update :D
Lemme know..I'll be waiting (:

Until next time...hoşçakal!