I look away when she asks, "What?", after hanging up on Reena.
She is boisterous and nothing like a woman of her age is, but the more I observe her more I realize she could be so childish yet so responsible. At times like this, I admire her. Sometimes I don't. Especially when she needs to lean onto someone but she just wouldn't trust anyone..not even Sidra apu. I still about the day I saw her cry on the rooftop, slapping her chest as it aches inside, a mouthful of bread so that no one hears her sob...I don't admire that Zeenat.

. . .

When her words sink in, You never told me you were gay...
I was already on top of her in the corridor of the hotel. My face few centimeters away from hers. I burst into laughter. I slowly get off her body and help her stand up. She shoves my wallet at me.
As soon as I see my wallet I know what she has seen.

"You know nothing", I say, my laughter disappears.

"Tell me", she asks inquisitively.

"Why?", I smirk and wink at her.

"Because I'm worried about you. How long do you plan on hiding this from your family..wait do they already know? Did they pressurize you to..."

"Zee... I'm not gay. And even if I was I'd never been afraid of accepting it. If I love someone I won't give up, even if everyone and everything tires me", I say.

She looks at me closely. And then she nods before walking away. She doesn't ask anything about the picture she saw in my wallet, me kissing a guy who's giving me a piggyback.

. . .

We return to the hotel after work.

"Can't sleep either?", she asks as I wait for the elevator.

"Yeah. Gonna walk in the garden for a while. What about you?", I ask.

"Can I tag along?".

"Do you really need my permission?", I say sarcastically, " Then please, NO".

She tagged along anyway. We walk for a while before I finally break the silence.

"That photograph..it's not what you think".

"Okay", she says, smiling at me.

"Aren't you curious?".

"I am. But I want you to talk about it when you're comfortable talking about it".

"Well..that's my best friend. I mean was my best friend", I emphasize on was, " I know you're wondering why I'd kiss my best friend".

She nods.

"My Girlfriend was mad at both of us, my best friend and I, so we had to kiss each other to persuade her. I loved her, very much. She was nothing like the girls I flirted with. She was different. I was nineteen back then. One day I walk into her bedroom to find my best friend there. My childhood best friend and the woman I was in love with, together in a room..doing things I don't want to even talk about. I was so mad and I furiously walked towards my girlfriend because I just knew my best friend couldn't be the one at fault..but he just came between us, pushed me away, and hugged her..when he should be hugging me and apologizing for..I don't know. Both of them had zero guilt in their face and that was the most hurtful part. After I walked out of that room, I've never seen them again", I try my best not to cry when I say all these.

"Why did you keep his picture?", she asks.

"I'm over here but I couldn't let him go. I can't stand his sight but I don't know what to do with our picture", I say.

"Burn it. Flush it".

"Are you mad?", I say.

She drags me back to my room. Boss is soundly sleeping. She is waiting in the corridor. I do it as she suggested. I burned the photograph, then flushed it before coming back to her.
She gets excited when she sees me.

"How do you feel?", she asks enthusiastically.

I'm surprised by my own response.

"You know what..this feels so good. It like I pooped all the bad memories and flushed it", I say sarcastically yet meaning every word I said.

"Eww".

. . .

" Tuli and I have to go back urgently. You and Zaymaan wrap things here first then head back to Chittagong", Boss said to me and Zeenat.

. . .

Zeenat and I checked out of the hotel after two days.

"Let's take our luggage with us, we'll head back to Chittagong directly after work", Zeenat suggested.

. . .

We ran after our bus. The bus departed at 11: 30 p.m and we ran after it till 11: 37 p.m. Yeah, we missed it.

"What do we do now?", I ask her.

"Let's spend the night in a nearby hotel when the dawn breaks we will head back".

I cross my hand on my chest, to cover it, then I meet her eyes, "You can't take advantage of me, I beg you", I say sarcastically.

"SHUT UP ZAYMAAN", she says, laughing for the first time in last few minutes.

. . .

Her cold skin, when our hands brushed, defeats thousand winters against my skin yet she radiates nothing but warmth.