Chapter 32
Aashiq’s giddy expression as we emerge from the subway tunnels fills his whole face. “I’m so glad you agreed to this, Ziya.”
I keep a tight smile on my face, even though my skin crawls like spiders cover my whole body. “I told you I wasn’t going to deny you anything,” I remind him.
“You wanted to come to Times Square on New Year’s Eve.” I hold my hands out to the sides—well, the best I can when everyone is packed together like sardines. “You should’ve expected it to be busy.”
But even though I’d rather claw my own eyes out than be anywhere near Manhattan during Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve celebrations, when Aashiq told me the one place he wanted to go was Times Square, I couldn’t deny him.
The entire time he’s been here, we’ve done nothing touristy, and he gets so much energy from being around other people.
So, even though I want to engage in eye gouging, I dutifully brought him here, to my personal nightmare.
A man shoves my shoulder as he hurries down the street. I stumble backward, and Aashiq has just enough time to grab my arms and pull me upright again.
He glares in the direction the man went. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!”
“It’s fine,” I say, brushing my arm where he collided with me. “We’re going to be dealing with this all evening.”
I stay close to Aashiq, but because of the large throng of people, we fall out of step with each other every now and then.
After the third person suddenly walks through the space between us, Aashiq slips his hand into mine.
His fingers hold tight, and my face warms as he simply stares back at me.
He pulls me forward, and I stay firmly by his side.
“Is there anything specific you wanted to see?” I ask.
“Not really,” he confesses. “I just wanted to see this place. Everyone at the office complains about how terrible it is, but I thought it couldn’t be that bad.”
I snort. “Yeah, no self-respecting New Yorker comes here on purpose.” I pause, tilting my head to the side. “Unless they’ve got family in town. And even then, we’ll drag our feet and try everything in our power to stay away.”
“I don’t know.” Aashiq tries to lift a shoulder, but an older woman pushes into him as she walks past. He wavers in his step, but he quickly rights himself and gives me a pleasant grin anyway. “I think it’s kind of magical.”
“You think everything is magical.”
“True,” he allows. “But this really is! The flashing lights on the screens against the darkness of the sky, the gray clouds that promise one final snowfall before the New Year, the energy buzzing around us.”
“Yeah, that’s the glow of advertisements and the sweat of rude tourists.”
At his unimpressed stare, I make a gesture for him to continue. He brightens as he goes on. “Fine, then try thinking of it this way,” he says. He dips his chin at the crowd. “All these people could be celebrating the end of the year anywhere else, but they chose to come here.”
“Huh,” I say. I scan the crowd again, this time with his perspective. It is pretty nice to have a space where everyone can come together. Isolation is tough. If the past couple of months have taught me anything, it’s that it’s better to surround yourself with people than be alone.
We finally break from the hordes of people and stumble into a clear space near some stores.
There’s still a big crowd here, but at least there’s more breathing room to allow for the flow of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk.
Aashiq reaches over and fixes my hair and coat, both of which got rumpled in the stampede.
When he’s done, his hands cradle my face, and his thumbs stroke my cheekbones.
Warmth blooms in the spots his skin touches mine, and my own hands reach up to clasp his wrists.
“You know, if this was what you wanted to do, we could’ve just gone back home.
We didn’t need to come to the worst place on earth. ”
He chuckles. “Don’t you want to act like a normal couple for once?
” Aashiq drops his hands but loops his arm through mine.
His expression shifts, his brows pulling downward.
“We don’t…” He swallows. “We don’t have a lot of time to act like a normal couple.
I just want to be in Times Square and walk down the street holding your hand. ”
My heart nearly splices in half, and the pang that jolts through me leaves my entire body aching. Though my eyes warm, I nod. “Okay, fine.” I snuggle close to his arm. “Let’s go.”
We stick close to the stores because, believe it or not, it’s less crowded than the more open areas.
Every now and then, we duck inside somewhere because Aashiq wants to explore, but we mostly just walk around.
There’s a comfortable silence between us for a while, until I ask, “What’s your favorite color? ”
Aashiq frowns. “Why this all of a sudden?”
“I was thinking…it’s not fair you know everything about me ,” I say, “but I know nothing about you. I know you didn’t really see yourself as having a personality outside of me because you came from me, but you’ve been out in the world for a while.
So…” I tilt my head to the side. “What’s your favorite color? ”
He regards me for a moment, then says, “Chocolate brown.”
I snort. “Why? Because of chocolate syrup?”
“Because it’s the color of your eyes,” he replies.
He says it simply, as if it’s not a sentence guaranteed to make my stomach somersault.
“I don’t think I had a favorite color before, and I don’t think I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it, but when I do…
I realize I search for shades of chocolate brown everywhere because it reminds me of you. ”
“That’s so sweet,” I gush. I snuggle closer to him. “Tell me something you like.” I pause. “ Other than chocolate syrup.”
He chortles but bites his lower lip as he thinks. “I like…the sunrise,” he says. “And watching K-dramas. And walking in the park. And being in the office.”
I furrow my brows. “Do you only like those things because you did them with me?”
Aashiq shakes his head. “While you being there was definitely an added bonus, I enjoyed doing all of those things because I never would have been able to before. When I’m in your head, all I do is wait for you to get creative, and when you need my help, I just generate ideas.
I don’t get to experience much else.” Flurries start to swirl around us, so he raises his free hand to catch a few snowflakes on his palm.
“But being out here? Getting to see the rich orange of the sky as the sun rises with my own eyes…feeling my heart accelerate while watching something on TV…and being able to walk around outside and experience the snow. And then being in an office with a group of people who know you and care about you and enjoy working with you.” He turns his gaze to me, and the longing in his eyes threatens to pull me out to sea.
“I’ve only been able to do all of this because of you.
I know you said you wanted to focus on me today because I’ve spent all my time here focused on you, but just by giving me the opportunity to come to life, you’ve given me the best gift I could have ever asked for.
I got to be around other people and be a part of something wonderful.
” Aashiq runs his thumb along the back of my hand.
“I didn’t expect to do anything but help you when I came out. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
My heart drums like it’s playing a heavy metal song.
The beat reverberates through my entire body, and my skin warms despite the cold temperature.
Aashiq and I slow to a stop and stare at each other, trying to memorize every single detail.
Human memory is a fickle thing, but I pray I never forget anything about him.
Not the way he squares his shoulders back, like he’s got all the confidence in the world.
Not the shade of his eyes, which shimmer like seafoam.
And not the way he looks at me, like every time he sees me it’s brand-new, like he’s never going to tire of me.
It makes me want to scream at the sky. It makes me want to drop to my knees and bang my fists against the cold ground.
It makes me want to give in to the impulse to let the darkness hovering over my head envelop me completely.
Because I’m losing him. As hard as I’ve tried to keep my pain buried, and as hard as I’ve tried focusing on Aashiq’s happiness, I can’t help thinking the reason I’m doing all of this is because tomorrow morning when I wake up on the first day of the New Year, he won’t be there.
I clench my jaw to keep my tears at bay. “If you had more time here…” I swallow thickly at the pain flickering in his eyes. “What would you have done?”
Aashiq tilts his head up. The clouds brighten the overcast sky, and the snow falls like thick fluffy teardrops. They settle in his hair, in his brows, even on his lashes. “I think… I think I would have liked to see the spring,” he finally says, his voice as light as the flurries.
“Really?” I ask. “That simple? You wouldn’t want to… I don’t know…see more of the world? Have a chance to leave New York? Get a real job, or find a hobby?”
He shakes his head, and some of the snow melts at the movement.
“No,” he replies. “I just want to see the spring with you. Find out why you love it so much.” His eyes, normally so bright, dim with melancholy.
“To walk with you in the park as the days get longer.” His lifts our joined hands so they’re eye level.
“To catch cherry blossoms with you and watch as you marvel about how soft they are. To enjoy a warm breeze instead of a cold one for once.” He brings our hands to my face and softly traces my cheekbone with the back of his hand.
I glance down, and surprise widens my eyes at the wetness on his skin.
“To see how the spring sun brightens up your face, and compare it to the fall and the winter, and store all those memories so I can hold on to them forever. To see you standing in the middle of a flower field and think to myself that not even one of them could compare to your radiance. To have a picnic at the park and lay on a blanket, our stomachs full and the grass tickling our ankles, and our hands clasped together as we bask in the warm sun and the cool breeze.” He touches his forehead to mine.
It’s cold and damp, but I feel the heat of his emotions.
“To have another season to keep falling in love with you. That’s all I would have liked to do. ”
My lower lip wobbles, and I guess Aashiq can tell a breakdown is approaching, because he steps forward and wraps his arms around me.
He presses his cheek to my forehead, and I sniffle deeply as I bring my arms up, returning his embrace.
“What am I going to do when I miss the warmth of your arms?” I rasp.
Aashiq doesn’t speak for a long moment. Then he says, “You’ll wrap yourself in a blanket and think of me.”
A tear falls from my eye. It trickles down my cheek, and I taste salt. “What am I going to do when I miss your voice?” I ask, my voice cracking.
He cups his hand at the base of my head. “You’ll close your eyes and hear me in your heart.”
I sniffle, then turn and rest my chin against the middle of his chest. Anguish lines his face, and I’m sure it’s plastered all over mine, too. “And what do I do when I want you beside me?”
His Adam’s apple bobs, and he brushes my hair behind my ears. “Then you’ll write,” he whispers, his voice as soft as the snow falling onto our shoulders. “And whenever you do that, you know I’ll be with you.”
“But it won’t be the same. I want more time with you.”
“I know.” He cradles my face in his hands. “But if this is all we have…then I’d say we got more than most other people ever receive.”
He’s right. What we have is so many shades of complicated, but the feelings that are there, the ones we nurtured and shared, are so special.
There are people who go their whole lives not knowing what it’s like to be cared for or loved like this.
And despite the time limit on our relationship, we’re still the lucky ones.
And maybe that’s enough.
After a long moment, Aashiq says, “Let’s go home.”
I frown, leaning back. “What? We just got here. I thought you wanted to see more of Times Square and wait for the ball to drop.”
“I did,” he acknowledges. “I figured if this is the end, we should at least go out with a splash, doing normal couple things and being here with everyone when the New Year rolls in. But now I don’t care about anyone or anything else. I just want to be home with you. That’s all that matters to me.”
I stare up at this man who came into my life like a hurricane, who is now going to leave it like the scattering of leaves clinging desperately to the trees.
I don’t want to go home, because I know once we get back, that’ll really be it.
Our day will be over, I’ll type THE END in the outline, and Aashiq will disappear.
But as much as the idea terrifies me, I would also rather spend the last little bit of time just the two of us.
I can be around other people anytime; I only have so many moments left with Aashiq.
If I were to pick between Times Square right before the ball drops and my cozy warm apartment, I know which I’d pick every time.
I smirk. “Well, like I said, today’s all about what you want to do.”
Aashiq returns my smile. He shifts so he can loop his arm through mine, and then nods once. “Let’s go home, Ziya.”