It was 3:30 am to be exact when her eyes opened as if she never slept, very robotic or to be more modern I would like to call it a zombie moment. Her feet were cold despite the quilt was covering her from everywhere yet she gets up and sits squarely on the bed. There is her black pullover which was lying on the empty side of the bed; the only companion to make her feel warm. This pullover is just like instant noodles except that it provides instant warmth.
Right in front of her is the huge French window which opens out on this wide terrace overlooking the main road. At this wee hour everything is closed, hence she is awestruck by the silence of the hour. The usual routine on that corner of her building is to hear the running engines at the bus stop or the children screaming & playing around the pavement. But right now it is so dead that suddenly her eyes get fixed on the red light blinking on the skyscrapers so when clouds come down, planes can make their way without hindrance.
Sitting on her bed, staring into the blank space with no noise going down the ears, she hears him turning in his bed in a room hardly 20 steps away from hers. While sitting on her bed, she turns her head as if she wants to hear him closely. Suddenly, she remembers the time he fell asleep on the sofa and she could make out the words from his breathing. This memory made her look back towards the window and remove the quilt from her now little sweaty feet. She gets out of the bed cautiously so he doesn't get disturbed by her bed’s churning sounds, and walk bare feet towards the window. Usually, it’s the day that brings hope but suddenly she finds hope with the falling darkness.
She turns her back towards the window and looks at the warm light coming from under the door. Before going to sleep every night this is a habit to keep a small warm light open at the main entrance. She looks at the light shed and takes small steps to open the door and leave the room quietly. Her feet are taking longer than usual to cover those 20 steps which usually take a nanosecond in daylight but right now this action is making her throat dry and shoulder stiff.
His door is slightly open as he never sleeps with the door closed. She looks at him from that thin opening and sees that white street light is falling on his sharp feature. She opens the door enough for her to enter and walk towards the other end of the bed and stand there looking at him. She breathes in and sits down on her knees on the cold tiled floor; a feeling that hurts normally but at this moment her mind was fixed on his face just like her eyes.
She raises her pretty hand and makes her fingers run through the contour of his face. He mumbles in his sleep and slightly tosses which made her hand stop right on his cheekbone. His face told her that either he is dreaming or trying to dream so she runs down her fingers to his lips, and at that very moment, he utters a name.
A name which is not hers and once again the night becomes cold!
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