Hoori was halfway through with her cup of Milo by the time Mikaeel stepped foot into the kitchen. She looked at him surreptitiously from behind her little white cup as he walked up to the fridge searching for anything he could gulp down. He really did look ten shades darker and they probably should have slept a little earlier the night before considering the fact that he hadn't even realised that he was wearing his pullover inside out. He was late for his lecture and with the construction on the highway, she was sure he would miss it entirely.

"Your pullover is on inside out."

He looked down, shaking his head at himself before he pulled off the black pullover in order to fix it up.

"So," he asked, fitting his arms through the sleeves, "When did all this happen?"

"What?"

"Making breakfast?"

"Oh," She placed her cup gently on her saucer. "When I was trying to ignore you."

He just nodded, unwilling to delve further into that topic. It was probably safer that way...

"You know," She said softly, picking her cup up once again as he resumed his search through the fridge. "I finally made the ten steps."

"Oh?" His hand instantly stilled before he turned around, closing the fridge softly. "Really?"

"Uhm hmm." She looked back down as the chocolatey milk danced cautiously along the rim of the cup, trying to ignore the fact that he was walking slowly towards her.

"When?" He was closer still- just 3 steps away from her.

"Last week."

"You can say it, you know." He was right next to her, his knee braced on the floor as he knelt down before he took the cup out of her hold and set it down softly on the table.

"Say what?"

"I know you just want me to kiss you." The little hairs on the nape of her neck bristled at his close proximity.

"I know you're just looking for an excuse." Her brazen reply stunned him, but only for a second.

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"See the thing is," his voice was so close to her ears that it sent little prickles all the way down to her toes as his lips barely brushed against the shell of her ear.

"Uhm hmm." She only peeked at him through the corner of her eye as she busied her hands with the bright silver spoon in front of her.

"Look at me Hoori."

She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow as she waited for him to reply, not realising that his hands were inching slowly towards her cup.

"You and I both know," his lips brushed against hers softly as he spoke while he played with the ties holding up her purple gown.

"What?" She looked down at her hand- surprised to see it wrapped around the edge of his collar.

He leaned back, breaking out of her hold before he gulped down the contents of her cup and stood up. "I don't need an excuse to kiss you."

She could only gasp as he wiped his mouth with his hand before he set her cup back onto the table. "That was mine."

"Ya," He looked down as he tightened the little strings on her gown that he had unknowingly untied, "But I'm late and you could use the practice."

Then he walked away, completely ignoring the way she stared at his back in absolute befuddlement.

...

"So, I'm having supper." Hoori looked up from her laptop, regarding him carefully. He had come home from his lecture and had pretty much plastered himself to the dining room table with all his books surrounding himself. She could see him from the couch in the kitchen, almost scared to interrupt him. He always took his studying so seriously but he had to eat too, didn't he?

"Amazing..." He mumbled, not even looking up from his textbook.

"Can I make you anything?" She put her laptop down and got up slowly, relying heavily on her walking stick.

That actually got his attention.

"And what can you make?" He asked, watching her tie up her hair.

"Uhm, nothing fancy yet." She said, clipping back her fringe. "Toasted cheese, 2 minute noodles and if I'm really up to it- an omelette and maybe mash."

"Is that what you've been having for the past two weeks?" He began rubbing out the kink in his neck that he hadn't even realised was there.

"Pretty much."

He capped his pen and got up from the table, following her to the bathroom to wash his hands. "I heard Sarafina muttering about the dishes this morning."

"She's just annoyed because I told her that her boyfriend couldn't come and visit her here on Sundays." She shook her head.

"She'll get over it. She only works till 1 on Sundays anyway."

"So, what will you have" Hoori asked as she walked slowly down the passageway.

"Surprise me."

She had tried playing it off as something ordinary.

She did. But the fact of the matter was that she had never actually, truly cooked anything for him and it was just a little nerve wrecking knowing he would be sitting at the counter watching her work. She almost wished he had just gone out instead as she rested her walking stick against the counter before she fished out the bread from the breadbin.

Was he really going to sit there and watch her?

She should have made it first and then called him.

"Do you want to grate the cheese for me?" She asked a she walked up to the fridge and opened up the heavy silver door.

"Do I want to grate it?" He watched amusedly as she attempted balancing everything on her own. "Not particularly, no."

She knew she was being impossible trying to balance it all on her own. The cheese and the mayonnaise and the butter was all a bit much but how would she ever know if she could do it if she never tried. Eventually it would come back to her- the ability to balance it all and walk at the same time but she'd never know when if she didn't try it at least once a day.

Nope. Not working.

The butter and the mayonnaise was placed back on the shelf before she turned around with the cheese in her hand and looked at him unimpressed with his reply. "Will you grate the cheese the cheese for me?"

He stood up and walked around the table to get the grater from the draw. He had every intention of just doing that and leaving her to get the rest of it but if he had to wait for her to do everything he'd probably end up waiting till midnight and he really didn't have that kind of time to waste just then. "Do you need anything else?" His hand was on the handle of the grocery cupboard already as he asked her.

"The salt, the pepper and the Aromat." She was finally able to close the fridge after 3 trips and by the time she had walked back to the table Mikaeel had already taken out everything else.

God, she was so slow.

"Aromat?" He looked at her dubiously. "Really?"

"Just trust me."

He said nothing more on the matter as he balanced the overly-large grater in the bowl and began to grate the cheese.

Shit. He really was just becoming her bitch.

He didn't want to admit it but the Aromat wasn't all that bad.

After all the bloody work he put in to making it, it had to taste good. He was positive she had just a little too much fun ordering him around the kitchen. She should have just giving him a fucking apron while she was at it and had him make the whole thing himself.

"What are you writing tomorrow?"

"Cytogenetics."

She looked at him sceptically. "And what does that have to do with microbiology?"

"I need it for the credits. They fucked up my results last year."

"Oh..."

The table had descended into an uneasy sort of silence once again. She wanted to ask him if he knew his work and if he was ready but something was stopping her from carrying on the conversation. It was strange. They were eating supper together and now they were talking together and the idea that it was just too normal began to make her feel odd. She didn't want to believe that they could be normal. She wasn't used to normal, not for a very long time. Besides that, she didn't even know what he thought about the whole thing. How could they possibly just fall into this sort of a routine?

After everything?

Was it okay to want it with him? Did he want it too? What was...

"Will you," he rubbed his neck almost hesitant to ask her, "will you go over the questions with me? Just to see if I know it."

"Okay." She said softly before she looked back down at her plate, picking off all the stray crumbs that had fallen onto it.

Maybe... just maybe.

...

"What happens to a cell that has accumulated too much DNA damage for its chromosomes to be replicated?" Hoori had been questioning him for almost 2 hours yet she still had no clue about anything he was studying. She only read out the question from the fine-print worksheet and looked for his answer amongst his untidy scribbles in his notes. But she still couldn't for the life of her explain what a matasome was or how to pronounce histone acetyltransferases. She had to ask him how to pronounce it when she came across the question and he said it so quickly that she didn't know what he had said at all.

"Apoptosis or..." he considered his words, "Programmed cell death may occur as replication of mutated DNA may give rise to a tumour or some other cancerous growth."

He was stretched out along the 3-seater couch across from her, tossing up a crumpled ball of paper into the air and catching it lazily as he answered her questions.

"And..." She rifled through the worksheets, "I think that's it."

"Oh?" He watched her as she ran her hand through her hair, yanking softly at the ends. "Thanks."

She stopped what she was doing before she looked up at him, her lips curling into a slow smile. "Anytime." She stood up, walking carefully towards him before she dropped his notes onto his lap. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Wait," he caught her by her wrist before he pulled her to stand just a little closer to him.

"What?" She looked down at him, arching her brow as he tugged at her arm till she was leaning over him.

"Don't I get anything?"

"For?"

"I don't remember getting anything wrong." He sounded too self-assured for her liking.

"I knew you were just looking for an excuse." She winked at him before she turned around and walked away.

Mikaeel leaned back against the armrest, biting on his knuckle to hold back his smile.

Well I'll be fucking damned...

...

It was almost 4 by the time he handed in his paper and walked out of the room. He could feel the blast of icy air hit him as soon as he walked out of the building and had to zip up all 3 of his jackets before he could even attempt walking to his car. He would be lying if he said he was completely focused on his exam. Flashes of her popped up into his head at the most inopportune moments. He almost wished she had realised that her top was just a little too low cut.

Almost.

Every time she leaned forward, he got just the tiniest glimpse of what was underneath. And she had to lean forward almost every few minutes just to make out his indecipherable words.

That was pretty much why he had to distract himself with a paper ball the night before. He had to look at something else- anything else really- in order to answer any of her questions at all. He was sure she hadn't realised it though.

There was no way she wore that top on purpose.

Right?

Mikaeel just about released the handbrake when his phone started ringing from one of his jacket pockets. "Hello."

"Hey man." Is'haaq's loud voice boomed through his ears.

"Hey."

"Howsit?" He sounded unusually down which could only mean something must have been very wrong.

"Good. You?"

"Okay. Have you been to visit Ihsaan recently?"

"No." Mikaeel shifted his gear back into neutral as he waited for Is'haaq to elaborate.

"He was high today, right there in the fucking hospital."

No fucking way.

"Excuse me?" Mikaeel rarely sounded as pissed as he did just then.

"I know when he's high and he was so fucked just then, the bastard was hearing colours."

"The fucker..." He mumbled, rubbing the corners of his eyes.

"I think you need to talk to him."

"And tell him what?" Mikaeel stewed. "Stop trying to kill yourself you little, fucking son of a bitch because it's just fucking pathetic?" He leaned his head back against the headrest. "The stupid little fucker."

"Ya. Tell him just that. He needs to hear it."

"Shit..." Mikaeel cut the call before Is'haaq had a chance to reply before he practically jammed his gearshift into first gear.

Fucking wanker...

...

It was already dark by the time Mikaeel walked into their bedroom.

Hoori was under the covers, munching from a bowl of popcorn with her eyes glued to the TV screen ahead of her. "What are you watching?"

He sat down on the bed next to her, plucking one of the kernels from the bowl.

"Gladiator." She barely even glanced at him as she replied, completely absorbed in her movie. "How was your paper?"

"Good." He leaned back, watching mindlessly as more and more blood was spilled ahead of him.

"Are you okay?" She turned to look at him, apprehensive at his change of mood since breakfast.

"Ya."

"You sure?"

"Ya." He turned back towards the screen, ignoring the way Hoori glanced at him every so often through the corner of her eye before she looked away once again.

"Hey." Mikaeel walked into Ihsaan's room. He had been moved from the ICU but his parents had insisted that he stay in a private ward till he was discharged.

"What?" Ihsaan hadn't even turned to look at him, opting instead to look out the window.

"Is'haaq phoned me."

"So?"

"You're high. I can see it. What did you take?" Mikaeel walked up to his bedside, not willing to be ignored.

"Fuck off." His hands were already shaking and Mikaeel could hardly keep up with the amount of times he had blinked in the past minute alone.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Shattered wrist, cracked rib and a dead wife."

"Fuck you. You're killing yourself with your bullshit."

"Just go Mikaeel." Ihsaan sounded drained as if it was too much of an effort to even look at Mikaeel.

"No."

"Just leave." He slid down his pillows until he was wrapped beneath his blanket.

Mikaeel walked away slowly. Ihsaan's eyes were already closed and he was sure he wouldn't even have known if he was gone. Ihsaan was just- he was empty. He was lifeless and it scared the shit out of Mikaeel. He was a breathing corpse and if he didn't want to get better...

"I don't want you to die."

His voice echoed softly in the still room. He was sure Ihsaan hadn't even heard him as he made his way towards the door but his strange croaked voice pulled him back.

"I don't want to live anymore."

The constant chime of his phone seemed to drag Mikaeel out of him dreamless sleep. He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep but as he opened his eyes and squinted at the dimly lit ceiling he couldn't think of anything else except Ihsaan. He could hear a page turning softly from beside him and he assumed it was past 11 but he couldn't be bothered to turn his head to look at the clock on his pedestal.

Ihsaan couldn't die.

He didn't want Ihsaan to die but how could he stop him if he couldn't find it in him to want to live.He wanted him to want to live. He wanted Ihsaan to find something in his life worth living for. He wanted his friend back.

More than anything else, he just wanted his friend back.

Ihsaan was a late-bloomer. At 15, he was still the shortest boy in his class and his voice had yet to break properly. No one could really understand how he and Mikaeel were friends or how Mikaeel could deal with his constant yapping but somehow they just went with it.

"Mr Dunn? Are you done talking?"

"Sir? I wasn't talking." Ihsaan looked at him appalled at his insinuations. "I was listening very, very intently Sir."

"And what was I saying?"

Ihsaan looked over at Mikaeel, mentally pleading for help but Mikaeel just smiled at him enjoying the look of panic etched all over his face.

"I'm waiting Ihsaan." Mr Labuschagne walked slowly down the aisle, making his way towards his fumbling student.

"Uhm..." He pulled at his tie nervously completely aware of the red flush creeping up his neck. "Tiger! Tiger! Burning bright! In the forests of the night. What immortal eye or..."

He stopped dead at the look Mr Labuschagne aimed at him.

"You and Mr Ebrahim can see yourself to the office."

Mikaeel's eyes widened as he heard his name attached to the sentence.

How in the fuck did he even get involved in it?

"Ah! But Sir. He wasn't talking Sir. I swear it." Ihsaan immediately piped up.

"Oh so it was just you then?" He smiled knowing full well the little kid had just talked himself into a corner.

"Uhm..." He scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Just go Mr Dunn." His teacher said tiredly. "Please."

Mikaeel just looked down, choosing to stay silent on the matter entirely...

Hoori almost jumped when she felt the soft denim of his jeans brush against the back of her leg. "Hey." She turned around, still surprised to see him lying right next to her.

"Hi."

"What's wrong?"

He looked so sad just then as his eyes roved over the white ceiling, tracing the grooves and curves in his mind.

"Nothing."

She nodded, not believing him at all.

"You were right, you know." She sidled just a little closer to him.

"About what?" He asked, turning to look at her as she ran her fingertip softly over the side of his jaw.

"I really did want you to kiss me."

She cupped his cheek in her hand, pressing her thumb against his bottom lip.

"Ya?" His voice brushed softly against her finger.

"Uhm hmm."

And she smiled against his lips, knowing she couldn't give him much...

But she could give him this.