This is just a little day dream I had, and then turned into a bit of pointless fluff. I've taken a lot of poetic license as to the order of things happening with Zainab's confession and Christian returning and whether Syed is still at the salon. It doesn't fit canon, but this is just how things played out in my head! Thanks for reading x
Syed closed the door to the flat behind him. Leaning his back against its hard surface he let out a long breath and took a moment to let the comforting surroundings seep through his flesh and into his bones.
Secrets and lies. Will his family ever be rid of them and the hurt and destruction and damn right mess of relationships they cause?
Of which he knew only too well.
His family had been getting back on track, dealing with everything after the fire, after Yusef, after what that man did to his mother… Syed stopped his line of thinking, swallowed down the twist in his gut.
But this? This latest confession. This latest guilt. This latest act of desperation, of pain, of anger, of what? Madness? Is that what it was? …it wasn't his mother. Couldn't be, could it?
But she did it. She sent Yusef knowingly, deliberately into the fire. She lied. And Tamwar and Afia suffered the consequences. But his Mother suffered and suffers still. More hurt to replace the healing.
Syed shivered slightly against the chill in the air as he moved further into the flat. His eyes drawn habitually to the framed photo taking pride of place on the side table. A flicker across the warm smile, and the bright eyes and his lungs filled with air.
Tea was leftover Choosa Palak from the day before. He pushed it absent mindedly around his plate, taking sideway glances at the clock, as the hand haltingly ticked by. Tick… tock… tick… tock.
Twenty minutes later the plate was sitting in the sink and he was sitting on the sofa, legs curled under him, trying to look at the TV and not the phone sitting on the wicker arm beside him. He had no idea what he was actually watching as his mind wandered and his fingers played with a thread on his navy cardigan.
The sharp ring came as a jolt, as if he weren't expecting it when it was all he was wanting and waiting for.
"You're early." he said, smile and eyes lit.
"I'll ring back shall I?"
"Nah, it's ok, I think I can fit you in."
He could see the curl of lips and tilt of head as if Christian were there with him.
"Busy day?"
He paused. Suddenly uncertain of what to say. Not wanting to burden Christian with more of his family's woes and have him worrying about him when he was so far away and there was nothing he could do. It was only a second, but for Christian it was long enough.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh you know, the usual."
"Are we talking the usual slept through the alarm, was late for work, had to massage old Mrs Bateman's bunions for 10 minutes longer than was strictly necessary by way of an apology, because 'you are such a polite young man' and have 'such lovely eyes', and 'If only I were 50 years younger', yeah, there may be something else you're missing love."
He laughed. A welcome and much missed, throaty, breathy laugh, and Syed could not help but laugh with him.
"I wish. No, the usual Masood family drama."
"Are you ok?" His voice was serious and Syed could hear the concern, feeling cherished by it but wishing he could also ease it.
"Yeah, it's not me. It's Mum."
"What has she done this time?"
Syed proceeded to fill him in on the broader facts, not lingering on details of feelings and confusion of thoughts that couldn't be diffused between them with the wrap of arms. Not wanting to cause a frown that couldn't be kissed away with touch of lips.
But Christian heard the unspoken thoughts anyway, and whispered words that soothed and went some way to making sense of what could not be made sense of.
Then he went quiet, and it was Syed's turn to clasp fingers with metaphorical fingers and caress with words of reassurance that travelled the distance between them.
"I really am ok. No need to worry. You just concentrate on making the most of your last week out there. You've been working so hard."
"It'll be worth it babe."
"I know. Is that Maria still trying to get the low down on your extensive cocktail knowledge, along with a private demonstration of your mixing skills?"
Christian chuckled and proceeded to fill Syed in on the days news from the hotel and bar where he was working. The chatter and joviality between them drifting with the continued ticking of the clock, finally becoming weighted with the words not said.
Christian spoke into the brief silence that fell once more between them. "I'm gonna have to go, my next shift starts soon."
"I know, have a good one."
They'd gone past the stage of 'Miss you so much.' Words that had been exchanged many times in the early day and weeks when Christian had first left for Gran Canaria. But the truth behind them had become so acute as weeks went by as to render them meaningless in their failure to do justice to the ache of seperation. The mere words serving only as a reminder of which each could not openly dwell for fear that existence without the other would bring everything to a stand still until they were together once more.
"Sy…"
"Yeah?"
"If you need me… I can… You only have to say."
"I told you I'll be fine. Besides, it's only a week. I'm sure I can survive another week without you."
It was said wryly and with a cursory roll of the eyes. But surviving without Christian was simply that. Surviving. And it was something he'd spent more time doing over the last few months than he could live with. But it was different this time. He hadn't lost him.
"I'll be home before you know it. I love you."
"I love you too."