This chapter is from Syed's POV.

WARNING: This chapter contains the dreaded SBM. Please remember, EE made me do it :(

~s~c~

'Syed, help the poor man out, ' Dad says, practically pushing me toward Christian.

Great. It's like everything, everyone, is conspiring against me. Trying to shove me back, back toward Christian. And me? I should put up a token protest at the very least. But I don't… Of course I don't. Instead, I cross the road to meet him.

'Need a hand?' I offer, smiling awkwardly.

Christian gives me an easy smile in return, all warmth and light.

'My knight in shining armour. Go on then, take that one,' he says, pointing to a monstrosity of a sander.

I bend down and try and figure out how to even grip this thing. When I've managed to get a hold, I make a futile attempt to lift it.

He laughs at my inadequacy. Instead of it nettling me, it floods me with warmth.

'Some help you are,' he scoffs.

'Well not everyone can have your ripped physique,' I counter. Cringing at my own words, I try to lighten the mood, get us away from dangerous territory by continuing: 'Can't all afford the steroids…'

He takes it in his stride.

'Hey listen, I'm 100% organic GM free beef. And well you know it. My body's a temple,' he says.

His voice, deepening for those last two sentences, stirs something in me. I'd almost forgotten it could be like this between us. The feelings have been so gut wrenching for so long, always deep and meaningful, full of sexual tension, that this easy, almost flirtatious banter catches me by surprise.

'Yeah well, that's not what I would call it…' I reply, my breath catching slightly.

He laughs. I've missed that laugh… Didn't realise how much until just now.

'Come on… 'he says, bending down to help me lift the sander. 'Superman'.

He looks at me as he says it, his face so close to mine that I have to quickly look away.

'Easy tiger!' he calls out as we try and manoeuvre the thing through the door and up the stairs.

We both laugh before hauling the sander all the way up the stairs. When we finally reach the top of the stairs, I let the blasted thing drop to the floor and then bend over, panting heavily with the exertion.

'You are such a lightweight,' Christian accuses me, the corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk.

I've not enough breath in me to argue. He walks in through the apartment door and I follow him after a few steadying breaths.

'Are you going to help me sand those floors?' he asks, looking back at me over his shoulder.

I shake my head.

'I don't think so. I'm hopeless at home improvement, would only get in your way… But I can make you some tea if you like?' I offer.

'Go on,' he says, smiling encouragingly. 'I could do with a cup before starting this. You will join me for that, won't you?'

Something warm unfurls in my belly at the look in his eyes. I've got used to walking around in a constant fog, almost isolated from the rest of the world. But it seems that from him, a few kind words, a warm smile and a lingering look or two is all it takes. I feel like the densest parts of the fog have been lifted, enabling me to see that what is right in front of me.

It is both scary and exhilarating at the same time. Slowly, ever so slowly, my body, my heart, seems to awaken from a deep hibernation. I open my eyes and see, start to feel again.

'Yeah,' I reply. 'Yeah of course'.

I find it just as impossible to say no to him as it always has been. We drink some tea from plastic cups and talk about this and that. About the weird colour scheme Amira has chosen. About how nice the weather has been lately. About… nothing really. But his eyes tell an entirely different tale.

Nothing heavy. Nothing intense. But a promise… A promise of something warm and wonderful. Of possibilities… Of things I've told myself over and over again that cannot be.

And yet, here we are…

He doesn't touch me. I think he's avoiding touching me, cautious not to push me, worried I'll run away. But I don't think I can… I've lived in a world of darkness, loneliness and hopelessness for so long now, that I can't help but bask in this single glimpse of sun. The light, the warmth, I've been craving that, him, for months now. So I talk, smile and take in as much of it as I can.

~s~c~

I put my hand on the doorknob and pause. I take a deep breath and try to steady myself, ground myself. My head is filled with inappropriate words and laughter, filled with thoughts of him. He's all I've been able to think off, him, me, us…

I don't want to be here…

Never mind. Never mind that now. I promised Amira I'd meet her here. So that's what I'll do. I release my breath and let myself in.

'Hello!' I call out as I climb the stairs and open the door to our flat. I don't see Amira anywhere, but I do see a soft light coming from what will be our bedroom. Hesitantly, I walk toward it.

When I look inside, she's there. She's wearing some skimpy little red thing that I've never seen before. The bedroom is draped in colourful see-through shawls and I even spot a few candles burning in a corner. Alarm bells are ringing at a deafening level as I step into what for all intents and purposes looks like a harem.

'I've been waiting for you…' she says, her voice soft and a bit lower than usual.

'I… I thought we were… going out,' I stutter, full of trepidation. It's obvious I'm entering some sort of romantic setup here and it's making me extremely uncomfortable.

'Change of plans,' she replies, pulling me in by my hand. Before I know it, she's unzipped my jacket, pressed a kiss against my lips and pushed me down on the bed. And how did that get in here anyway?

'Look… you know all this… lacy, frilly stuff is not really my thing,' I try and protest. But she ignores me, grabs some shiny, silvery fabric and blindfolds me with it. 'We've been here before!'

'Not like this we haven't,' she says, in a sing-song voice.

How on earth am I going to get myself out of this? This is so bad. I need to get out of here. Now. My heart is racing as I try, unsuccessfully, to temper my panic.

'Uhm… What are you doing?' I ask pointlessly. It's pretty obvious what she's doing. Her, me, the bed… Oh fuck, I think I'm going to be sick…

As she's leaning over me, I can smell the heavy, sweet-smelling perfume she's doused herself with. It's making me feel more than a little queasy. 'We haven't even moved in yet! What about dinner, I'm starving!'

'I've got a solution. Taste this…' she replies.

Before I know it, her fingers are on my lips, smearing something strange and sticky on them. What the fuck is that? I swipe my tongue over my lips. It tastes sort of… chocolatey?

I stand up, unable to take a second more of this. I pull the blindfold away from my eyes and shrug my jacket back on.

'I'm sorry…' I mumble. And I am. So sorry. But there's no way I can do this. Not now. Not today. Not… just not today.

'Chocolate body paint?' I continue. 'Blindfolds? It… It's silly… Look, put some… clothes on and… we'll go out. Yeah?'

I try and smile reassuringly at her. Like nothing's wrong. Like this isn't excruciatingly awkward and incredibly painful. But there's no helping it. I need to get out of here right now. I give her a quick peck on the cheek and almost run out the door.

Taking the steps two at a time, I fling open the door and gulp in the slightly cool evening air. Breathe… I need to breathe…

~s~c~

I feel haunted. I've done it again, haven't I… Fooled myself into thinking, into forgetting what's real, what can be real and what… can't. My head is such a mess right now. I don't know what to do.

I'd convinced myself that if I just slept with Amira once, I'd be ok. It'd prove to her, to… to her that I could do it. That everything would be fine. That I was normal. If I could do it once, I could do it again, surely.

That's what I thought. What I was sure of in fact. I laugh bitterly while pushing my hair back from my face. I really don't understand myself sometimes. And at other times, I understand myself so painfully well…

It's him. It's always him. When it comes to Christian, all reason flies out the window. It's not that I forget all the objections, all the reasons why we can't be together. It's that I can't bring myself to care. I want him. Full stop. And everything else will always be less important than that one, simple fact.

I've allowed myself to dream for a while. Allowed myself to think I could fall back into the warm bath of his love, his affection, his feelings for me. I can't seem to help myself. I've seen the way Mum looks at me, heard the words she's used to try and convince me, but I've ignored it all. Until now.

Because I can't any longer. Amira won't let me.

I'm not sure what's got into her. She's trying to get close, get to know me, get me to…

And now she's asked me to come help her at the flat. I sigh and get up from the bench, stretching my limbs, body aching. I have no idea how long I've been sitting here, brooding. I shake myself, trying to rid myself of all the doubt, all the worry, all the insecurities in one go. And hey, at least I know Christian won't be there. I sigh heavily. Yes, that is a good thing…

My feet reluctantly carry me over to what will soon be my flat. Mine and Amira's. A place where it's just her and me. My feet seem to move even more slowly now, but still I find myself in front of the door sooner than I'd have liked. I turn the key, let myself in and drag my arse up the stairs. I allow myself one more moment of hesitation, before opening the door to my flat. Our flat.

The first thing I see is a flustered looking Amira. She's wearing a vaguely familiar shirt that is way too big for her and her hair is done up. She looks… pretty I suppose. But in an approachable manner. Nice.

'Hey,' she greets me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek.

'Hiya,' I give back, trying for a relaxed smile.

It's not that hard somehow. Things seem… different. It's the flat for one thing. It looks like it's almost finished and most of the furniture has been moved in already. Wow, Christian must have been busy… No, I tell myself, shaking my head. Not now. I won't think about him now.

'The place looks great!' I say. "I thought you said you needed some help? Looks like it's pretty much done to me'.

She rolls her eyes at me and says: 'Hardly. There's still loads to do. But yes, we got a lot done today. Why don't you go check it out?'

'Ok,' I answer and make a quick round of the place. It looks pretty good actually. Perhaps I will be able to feel at home here after all…

'Wow, uhm… it looks great,' I tell her honestly.

She gives a self-depreciating shrug. All of this seems so… out of character for her? But perhaps I'm wrong? I may have been married to her for more than three months now, but how well do we know each other, really… It's not as if I've made that much of an effort to get to know her. And as for letting her get to know me… Well, I've been reluctant in that department for obvious reasons. Obvious to me that is.

'Look, this morning I…' I begin. Because before all else, I need to apologise. It's not her fault I can't… It's not her fault. None of it is.

But she shushes me and puts a comforting hand on my arm.

'Yeah well I shouldn't have,' I continue regardless.

'That's ok,' she reassures me.

I'm so confused right now. She looks so different, casual almost, approachable. For the first time since our marriage I feel sort of… comfortable with her. She looks so non-threatening like this, bare footed, and with her hair now falling loose down her back. She's hardly wearing any make-up and there's something… so familiar about her, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

She turns and walks away from me, to put on some music. I can't believe it when I hear the oh so familiar notes of "Stand by me" fill the air. How did she know?

'That's my favourite film! How did you...' I ask, smiling.

She doesn't answer. Instead, she sways to the music awkwardly and slowly, cautiously, wraps her arms around me.

It feels so strange… Her hair, the scent of her hair, of her skin, of her shirt, all so different yet so familiar. And the music. I didn't think she knew me that well. Didn't think I could share things like this with her, real things. I sway with her, move with her. It's almost easy all of a sudden.

She leans back a bit to look at me and stops moving.

'What? What is it?' she asks, brow furrowed.

I'm feeling so conflicted, I don't know what to say for a moment. Has the solution been under my nose this entire time? Can I be a husband to Amira? It almost feels like… If I could just take a leap, a blind leap of faith…

'It's this. This moment… It's perfect,' I say.

Because it is. Or it should be anyway… It's now or never, I know it is. One chance to be the man I always wanted to be. Hoped to be…

She looks at me, her eyes so full of longing, desperate longing. But it's the fear I respond to. She's just as scared as I am, and who could blame her? She has no idea, none at all. I need to give this a chance, just one more chance…

And then she reaches up and kisses me.

They're just lips really. I think I can do this. The music, the atmosphere, the scent… I allow it to wrap around me and take me. I surrender to it, go with the moment, and kiss her back.

Straight away I know it's wrong. The kiss is lukewarm at best. It doesn't feel right. Not right at all. But I'm not ready to give up. So instead of retreating, I deepen the kiss, throwing all my unresolved feelings of love, sexual longing, passion and despair into this one kiss.

I want to cry. But I don't. I stubbornly push on, push her back until she falls back on the sofa. I kiss her, touch her and try not to think about how very wrong this is. I close my eyes and force myself to ignore the hair that is too long, the body that is too soft, the hands that are too small…

Somehow, I make it work. The music in the background, the familiar scent that is like a caress, the almost complete silence between us, enables me to hold things together. I can do this. I can do this. And if I can do this, I might be able to have that life I dreamed of after all.

That thought alone, is enough to strengthen my resolve. I can do this. And I will.

~s~c~

Reviews still very much appreciated :)