TW: DEPRESSION.

"Dhumrapaan sehet ki liye haanikaarak hai." ~ Meghu (Meghu_die_Beste).

English: 'Smoking is hazardous to health.'

□

TWELVE HOURS LATER, the afternoon rays of sunlight bounces off Kabir's hair. The sun shines brightly into his eyes, giving the brown color a golden glow. Rays of gold round his iris until a fog of smoke flies over his eyes, caused by the ciggerette he twirls in his fingers.

Everything about him is cold. Kabir leans over his balcony, his elbow leaning over the cold metal of the barrier. His eyes scan the traffic, searching for something besides his broken heart. He wears nothing besides a thin white shirt and black jeans.

Inhale. Exhale.

Kabir takes another drag of the smoke and he could almost swear that the drug brought peace to him for a second. He could almost feel the warmth rush through his bloodstream. The heated ciggerette may be the only thing that he has that provides him warmth. His heart feels dead and Kabir wonders if it still thumps.
Suddenly, Kabir hears the montonus ring of his phone. He hears the door to their room opening and he could practically see Nazia glance at the open draw with a raised eyebrow. In Kabir's bedside table, the draw that is the closest to the ground contains his last pack of ciggerettes he ever brought and a single lighter.

Of course, Nazia doesn't know about this drawer. She assumes that Kabir quitted smoking two years ago. It wasn't an addiction to begin off with. Occasionally when he got stressed, he would replace his meals with a ciggerette. This only went on for a year and then he met Nazia who couldn't stand the smell of them - and who also refused to kiss him if she could smell it on him. It took him a total of three months to completely to stop.

But today he needed something to get the memory of this morning out of his head.

Kabir takes another drag of the ciggerette, his eyes wandering over the city. His head doesn't turn back when the door opens to the terrace. A gust of wind blows, sending shivers down his back and blowing his white v neck against his chest.

"Kabir? Are you okay?" Nazia asks, her tone soft and reassuring. It's not in him to say anything so he just nods without glancing at her. Nazia proceeds to watch him, taking in his slouching figure and the single ciggerette in his hand with concern. "Did you eat today?"

No. He didn't eat a bite of food for the whole day. He couldn't force himself to. The idea of eating is unappetizing - he wouldn't be able to stomach it. Kabir knows what's he's doing to himself. He knows that in the year he met Nazia, he did this to himself before. He replaced his meals with a ciggerette, his nights with sadness, his heart with hollowness and replaced everything the world had to offer with nothing. His eyes got deep eyebags, his skin got a sickly pale shade and all his family members, his friends and people he vaguely knew got concerned.

It took him a month to snap out of his hollowness. It didn't take a Nazia - It was purely Kabir on himself. His therapist couldn't do anything to help him, neither could the pills. They didn't bring happiness. They didn't bring the flavor back into his bland food, the color back in his eyes, the sleep back in his nights. It was Kabir with the help of his family, friends and people he never knew cared about him.

But now, his heart is sinking back into that coldness.

He can't do it again. He isn't strong enough to go through that pain himself again - he needs Nazia. She's the only one who would help her, make sure he takes his medicine on time and make sure he actually eats rather than smoke a ciggerette. She's the line between living and dying, the only reason why he even gets out of bed in mornings these hollow days.

Nazia is the source of all his willpower to live, and honestly, without her, he'll be empty again. He would loose the willpower to get out of bed, to eat on time, and to do anything that requires energy. She's become his routine - he would eat dinner and breakfast with her, wake up to her morning forehead kisses, sleep with an arm around her waist, and call her during his lunch breaks - without her, he would have empty nights, lonely meals, and an even more broken heart as he wakes up to an empty bed. Isn't it better to have a half broken heart, a heart that's in the process of being broken than having a completely shattered heart?

Kabir knows Nazia will leave him. It's just a matter of time before she realizes she deserves better. Until then, he'll be selfish and hold Nazia tightly until she tells him that she wants to break up.

There's a small chance Abeer could be a mistake. If Kabir turned to be Nazia's mistake instead, he'll be okay with it. He'll let Nazia leave without a compliant. All he ever wants for Nazia is her happiness - he would do anything even if that means leaving her

He doesn't understand why his heart is refusing to let go of her. She's the reason why his heart is torn apart. Call this love, or foolishness but Kabir can't live without Nazia. Not now, not when he's made such a heavy habit of her love or maybe not even tomorrow. Every single thought of his future involved Nazia, a ring on his left hand, and maybe a kid or two.

"Nazia, go back inside. It's cold -"

"No. How long have you been here? Did you skip work?" she interrupts. Although his eyes don't dart back to look at her grey beanie, her grey cardigan and her black shirt, he can tell her eyes are watching him. Her hands tighten around her black iPhone, the same iPhone she used to call Kabir a few minutes before.

"I came back early," Kabir sighs. He couldn't stand Sahiba. She carried on to flirt with him and even held his biceps while asking him if he's okay. Her tone was light and delicate, soft and sweet enough to be assumed as flirting. His mind was too taken up by Nazia and by his mind picking at every fault he has to pay attention to her advances. "I've been here for fifteen minutes."

It's three thirty - half an hour and a hour before Kabir is actually meant to be home. He assumed Nazia would be painting, away from here. It does make sense she's here though as Nazia was puking throughout the morning. She couldn't stop and Kabir naturally guessed it was alcohol poisoning.

"I'll make lunch now," Nazia says. "I'm running a bath for you. I can't stand the scent of ciggerettes -"

"I don't need your help," Kabir interrupts. He turns around, letting his eyes meet Nazia's for the first time. Nazia scans his face, her mouth hanging slightly open as she takes in his eyebags. "Just leave me alone."

His last sentence comes more of a plead than a statement. His eyes watch Nazia's carefully and her heart melts. How couldn't she see his eyebags in the morning? Granted she was puking and had been too busy sleeping for the entire night to see how he was awake in agony as questions twist in his mind. Situations crossed his mind and none of them were positive. He's terrible at keeping positive anyways.

Kabir walks past her. He needs to leave, maybe go to the nearest bar and drink until the unrestlessness in his stomach leaves. Or he can stay the night at Harnaam's. He can't play this game, he can't pretend everything is okay right now when his heart feels torn.

His shoulder brushes hers and she holds onto his wrist. For the first time today, he looks back and watches her eyes, looking for that love he thought Nazia had for him.

He could see it clearly. He could see the worry engraved over her creased forehead, her agape lips that try to figure out the mystery behind him and her arms that inch towards his body, trying to reassure him. It's too late for that now.

His mind has been made up. He can't stay here longer, he's only destroying himself.

Nazia wraps her arms around Kabir, causing the first sensation he's felt today to run through his mind. Perhaps Nazia's arms are his drug - the single motion of her embracing him has brought more peace than the ciggerette in his hand. He drops it and embraces her back, the warmth of he body a welcome change from the freezing winds.

It's so easy to change your mind. That's all it took - a single hug for Kabir to sign his destruction. He can't live without Nazia. He knows that clearly.

It doesn't matter what she does. He'll stay. He'll stay until she's sick of him and asks him to go.

Nazia steps away from the embrace and looks at Kabir. Her eyes are rimmed with tears and Kabir takes a step closer to her, wiping away the tears as his left hand circles her waist. The scent of smoke hangs on his skin and it seems as if sadness has soaked itself into his skin; the color of his brown glow seeming dull.

He closes his eyes for the longest time, already knowing what he'll say next. "Are you still going?" Nazia questions, her lips slightly pulled apart as she watches him. He shakes his head no, unwilling to speak.

He'll stay until he's destroyed himself. The water he needs has turned into poison, what else can he do?

□

A FEW HOURS LATER, Kabir lies awake staring at the ceiling. Nazia's hand lies on his chest, gripping the fabric as light snore escapes her mouth. Her head leans on his shoulder and Kabir's hand is placed on her stomach.

The warmth of the blanket and her touch isn't enough to touch his heart. He still feels cold and numb but his heart feels slightly relieved at the fact that Nazia still is with him. That she hasn't left him.

He wonders what would happen if she did.

Depression is the death of oneself. Your body may be alive but your soul isn't - and it's exactly what's happening to Kabir. He's giving up on himself. He can't play this game of life anymore, he forfeits. He'll rather live with half of Nazia's love and live with her lies rather than leave.

Leaving meant no more morning kisses and living without a reason to get up in the morning. To have no one look out for him, to ensure he ate something. This afternoon, Nazia made a small lunch of his favorite food (kicheri) while he took a short shower. To top it off, she made sure he was wearing thick clothes to protect himself from the cold weather.

Surprisingly, he actually ate.

While all of this happened, Kabir had stashed his lighter and ciggerettes in his jacket, knowing Nazia won't ever check the pockets of his coats tucked away in the closet. When push comes to shove, he'll grab it again and let his body feel like the destruction his heart is going through.

Megha was right. Nazia will be the destruction of Kabir. What Megha didn't know was that Nazia has become his only saviour as well.

Depression is drowning. The only thing you can do when you're drowning is to kick back up, to grab a raft. Nazia is that raft, the only thing that can save him. Kabir has to kick up and he has to grab that raft. If he pushes that raft away, he'll die. He'll sink to the bottem of the ocean, hearing murmurs of voices, blurry figures and his voice chocking on nothing.

The problem is that the raft can't make Kabir want to live. Kabir has to make that decision on his own, he has to grab that raft before he sinks.

Last time this happened, Harnaam and Nazia were his rafts. The only people who could help him back up.

Nazia turn around, her eyes opening slightly to peer at Kabir's face. She smiles at his body, laying a hand on his chest to bring him closer. Her hand moves to the underside of his head, tracing his old scar that runs from the end of his hair line and last two cm. The rest of the scars is faded, covered by his shirt and look like paper cuts against his skin. The one that proved to be most fatal still remains; although faded, the scar is only a reminder of what pain his heart had went through.

"Are you okay?" she mumbles, her voice soft as a frown appears over her eyes. Kabir nods, bringing her hand to his lips. He kisses her fingers softly, touching them faintly with lips curved upwards.

"I'm perfectly fine when you're here."

I'm only fine when you're here.

□

MORNING HAS COME. Nazia kisses Kabir's forehead and then proceeds to climb out of bed. Her eyes worryingly scan Kabir, wondering if he got a hint of sleep last night. Around midnight, she woke up to find the bed empty and saw a figure on the terrace with smoke blowing around them. She was too tired to process it all and fell back asleep within a moment.

Kabir rolls over in half sleep, throwing his arm over where Nazia normally sleeps. Her crease in her forehead grows, wondering what exactly happened to make Kabir so sad. She knows for certain it's something that has happened during that night she came home with a blurred memory. After all, this only began after that.

His eyes flutter open, peering at Nazia's body that sits on the bed. Her side of the bed is sunken slightly, just enough to prove how light she is. "Morning," Kabir says, smiling at her. The cracks between the curtain let a single ray of light hit his face and gives his left eye a golden brown glow.

"Morning." Nazia smiles back at him, wondering if whatever sadness he had left has disappeared. "Did you go on terrace by the way?"

Kabir nods, his eyes dropping to his blanket instead of her eyes. He starts to get up without another complaint, his feet hitting the floor silently. "Is it because of . . .," Nazia begins off, hinting towards his depression. "Harnaam told me."

"Told you what?" Kabir questions, looking back as he rubs his eyes. He raises an eyebrow and suddenly it clicks. It's something to do with his scar - that's why she pulled him closer until she could trace it with her graceful fingertips.

"She's out of jail," Nazia says, her eyebrows raised. Didn't Kabir know? Her question is answered quickly when Kabir's mouth is left agape. He frantically walks towards their calendar and Nazia gets off the bed, her feet diving into the slippers before running closer to Kabir. "Kabir, shit, I wasn't meant to tell you."

Kabir doesn't look back. His fingers flip through the calender, his eyes searching through the calender one by one. Yesterday's date is highlighted in a red marker and Kabir's gut twists.

His stomach starts to flip over and over and he finds himself falling onto his knees. The brown eyes of his stare at the calendar in horror, wishing it was just an illusion. However, Nazia's arms wrap around his back, proving it's not.

"It'll be okay," she hushes, her voice attempting to reassure him. She moves infront of him, her eyes trying to meet his panicked one. Her hands cup his jaw, bringing it to meet her eyes. "It'll be okay," she repeats, nodding with her words.

Kabir furiously shakes his head no. "Two years. She got two years of a prison that barely did anything while I have a life full of memories, of fears and hesitations. Don't you understand? I'll carry these memories for years and she can forget tomorrow without a worry."

"I need to go," Kabir speaks abruptly, his eyes darting around the room. His gut tightens and he rushes to under their unmade bed, his fingers grabbing his suitcase. The suitcase has a thick layer of dust over it but it doesn't stop Kabir from opening the top,

"Kabir, you don't need to go. I promise everything is fine," Nazia tells him, her voice high pitched and distressed. She kneels on the ground, unsure what to do until Kabir looks back at her. There's traces of a lost madness in him with his disheveled hair and glazed eyes.

His eyes watch hers and he starts to see the parallels between Nazia and her. He could see the same brown eyes on both of them, he could feel the same piercing pain he felt the first time he saw a hickey on her neck that wasn't his. Except, this time when he saw the photos the bolting pain in his heart was less.

He deserved this pain. Nazia has always been out of his grasp - he was foolish to think otherwise. He knew it was coming.

He needs to leave. He can't watch her eyes any longer, they remind him too much of her.

"I'll be back," he promises, unsure of his own words. Kabir stretches, leaning upwards to try to hide away his frown. When he places his arms down, he flashes a weak attempt of a smile and then moves back to his drawer. He places his ciggerettes in the suitcase first, followed by his lighter and then his beloved coat. The rest of the clothes are blurs, just anything he could grab.
Nazia's mouth goes dry. She feels selfish but she wants him to stay. All she wants is for him to sit with her, to drink chai under a night full of stars and be happy again. She moves closer to him, her scent intoxicating Kabir for a mere moment and making him pause. He closes his eyes for the second, tresuring perhaps the last time he'll smell that beautiful scent.

When he opens them again, his fingers are placing creases in his favourite black shirt. Kabir peels off his current crumpled shirt, flexing his body as he switches into the black shirt. He takes a look at his boxers and grabs his jeans as well, putting them over his freezing cold legs. Nazia watches him, her frown only depending as she watches him.

"Kabir, why do you need to leave?" Nazia questions, her voice soft and reassuring. Kabir's hands are in the middle of folding his shirt and he pauses to look at her.

"Because this is how my destruction first started as. It started off with cheating, with missed calls, and hickeys that weren't mine on her neck," Kabir says, turning his head to Nazia. Nazia flinches, taking a step away. His nostrils are frailed and his tone is deadly calm. "It escalated to . . . You know the rest."

Kabir never gets angry. However, Kabir doesn't seem like he regrets his words and turns back to the suitcase, zipping it up. Nazia is beyond shocked at his words - her eyebrows raising with his words. "Kabir, I didn't cheat on you - "

"I have proof," he replies in a monotone. He turns around, the suitcase right behind him. Nazia's mouth is slightly agape, shocked at what's happening. Kabir's arm brushes past her as he maneuvers away from her.

Her hand tightens around his arm and he chuckles in a cold way. "Are you going to throw a beer bottle and give me another scar? Perhaps the best way to carry on a legacy -"

"Kabir! I'll never do that!" Nazia cries out, her eyes watching his. Her face crumples up, tears pooling in her eyes. "Kabir, please don't go -"

"For not being her, you sure act like her, don't you?" Kabir replies, his voice stone cold. "Cheating and lying. What's next? Slapping, insults, telling me I'll never get anyone better, brusies, checking my messages? Screaming at me every time I don't want to sleep with you? Slapping me when I don't want to simply sleep with you?"

"Kabir!"

Her faces starts to crumple, the tears that have been pooling start to fall out. She doesn't wipe away the tears, instead she tries to touch Kabir's arm who jerks away at her touch. "I just need to leave. I just need to go -"

"I didn't even cheat on you, I've done nothing wrong at all. Why are you punishing me?" Nazia asks, her tears trailing down hear cheeks. Kabir tries to look away from her, knowing the longer he watches, the more he would want to stay. He runs a hand through his hair, the strands flicking upwards.

Instead of arguing back or showing her the pictures, he picks up the suitcase and walks out of the door. Nazia stares at the door in horror, wondering where she went wrong. She falls to the floor onto her knees, her hands flying to her face as she chocked back a sob.

On the other side of the door, Kabir is struggling to leave. His eyes keep looking back and his heart begs him to stay. His mind knows better. His mind knows what kind of destruction will happen if he stayed, it's already happened to him before.

He grabs his car keys.

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How was the chapter? Personally, I felt like this chapter felt choppy and straight to the point - does it sit well with you guys?

Anyways, I've started a cover shop with Meghu_die_Beste and it's on her account! Make sure to check it out, and along with Meghu's fantastic books.

ALSO, I'm so in love with Phillhuari's trailer! I love it so much argh!

Vote?

- Maya.