The sixth one is here!

Do you like rain?

In-line comments are welcomed!

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'Doesn't rain make a memory more intimate?'

~ Mark Doty

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"It's late, Humaira. Get your bag, I'll drop you home."

"I'm not getting on your ride."

"You won't. We are walking."

"It's raining." She said dryly.

"Then it's good news that you and I are made of flesh and blood and not salt," Umair replied sarcastically, "Get your bag, but leave the notes behind, or it will get ruined by the rain, waise bhi tumhe kaunsa padhna hai." 

Taunt.

" And now that I'm getting married, my efforts in studies are gonna multiply by zero. "

Comeback.

" I expect nothing less than that from you. " He returned her sarcasm.

" Really? " She acted surprised," I thought your expectations for me were negative like others. "

He smiled, mocking her," What to say? I happen to be an optimistic person. "

After their word-war, Umair got inside to fetch another umbrella for Humaira, but she had already stepped outside, standing in the pouring rain, letting the drops drench her completely.

" What are you doing? " Umair jogged to Humaira, keeping the umbrella over her.

" You really think it's gonna be of any help in this heavy rain, sir? " Humaira asked, looking at the big fat drops of rain, the streetlight making it more visible as they fell on the ground, creating a melodious sound.

"What do you want me to do then?" He asked, "Let you continue with your childish act?"

She faced him, taking the umbrella from his hand, "or better," she smiled, "join me!" She threw back the umbrella on their porch.

"You cannot be serious." Umair groaned, running his palms over her face and slicking his hair back.

"As you say, I'm being childish!" Humaira chuckled running away from there.

"Humaira! Slow down!" He followed her.

After a few minutes, Humaira was silently walking beside him. It felt like she did that tiny act to divert his mind from the topic. Her engagement. He got a feeling that Humaira didn't want to bring it up. He understood that. What he didn't understand was why someone like Humaira, who was so outspoken with her thoughts, would remain silent for something as important as her engagement. It wasn't long before she threw those tantrums because her best friend fixed her marriage behind her back; the same girl was silent when meeting his so-called fiancée for the first time. And from the look of it, it seemed she wasn't ever aware of him.

"May I ask you a question?" He prompted.

"If it's about linguistics then no; let me enjoy the rain." She jumped into a puddle, splashing the muddy water. She thought the question would be about the unannounced arrival of her so-called fiancé. She didn't want to get into a discussion about something she wasn't prepared for, but to her surprise, Umair had other plans; he dodged the dirty splash, saying–

"It's about Saad."

"What about him?"

He studied her reaction before continuing. She seemed unaffected by the mention of his name.

"Did you like him?"

"Him, whom?" She laughed, "Saad?"

"Did I crack some joke?"

"No," she replied, "you didn't say anything funny. You know what's funny? Thinking that I'm important enough for someone to share every aspect of their life. But I was wrong."

Umair got the hint of hurt in her voice and also the idea of what she was talking about. It wasn't about not knowing about her engagement or fiancé. His dad was right, she wasn't angry– she was upset. Upset about the fact that her best friend didn't share something important about her life.

"Did it really hurt that much?" His voice laced with concern he didn't know he had.

A smile that had sadness written all over it appeared on her face, "Honestly, no. It didn't hurt, Sir. I don't get hurt."

Umair inhaled slowly. He felt something after listening to Humaira talk in a manner where she wasn't arguing with him or complaining. She sounded hurt, vulnerable; like she had a facade down for that moment, unaware of the fact that Umair was reading her. He didn't feel bad for her, he was just recalling his father's words to understand her situation. Or maybe... he didn't want to believe he could feel anything for her.

"I'm sorry."

Humaira froze. Did he just–

She masked her surprise with confusion. "Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong, you're not getting married to my friend."

"Neither did Saad." He stopped, still defending his brother. However, it wasn't the time to school her. He sighed. It was taking him a lot more courage than he imagined to ask for her forgiveness, "I'm sorry for that day. I shouldn't have held you the way I did. It was very..." He sighed, "Boorish of me to behave that way. "

The person who always intimidated Humaira with his russet but dark eyes; had his gaze fixed on his feet. His loose posture– lowered head and eyes showed his courage and guilt. But he was apologising to her for holding her harshly, which was what he found wrong, not his words.

She smiled to lighten the tense air, " boorish; did you take that long pause to throw this word at me, Sir? Then please enlighten me with its meaning. My English is weak."

Umair noticed her forcing a smile and traveled to her eyes that always had something hidden in their depths. The drops of rain cling to her eyelashes.

"You're seriously doing this?" He was bored with her tactics of dodging the situation.

"I'm not doing anything. I just want to know what you're apologising for."

"You know that very well." He narrowed his eyes at her, "For your information, I have learnt this word today only. After checking your essay, which has 'boorish' in it. I'm here, apologising to you and you're being... " He shrugged," you. "

" I don't want you to apologise, Sir. " She smiled," as a teacher, it is your duty to correct my mistakes. And that day I was making a blunder. "

Umair smiled listening to that," In this one month, this is the first time I'm hearing something sane coming out of your mouth. "

" What to say– I'm full of surprises. " She chuckled, and so did he, digging a hole in the softened mud from the pointed end of his shoe. He agreed, " You indeed are full of surprises, Humaira Mir. "

Umair had Humaira's attention when he addressed her with her full name. Her eyes followed his gaze, which was fixed on the puddle he was digging. She noticed his shoes; looking up, she realised he was still in his work clothes: the formal pants, white shirt that was now drenched, clinging to his chest, black tie loosely tied around his neck, and a jacket that he might have picked just before leaving.

Her eyes stopped at his face, the water beads were reflecting on his face like the dust of crystal. She closed her eyes to divert her mind from him or where her thoughts might lead.

"We are getting late, sir. We should get going." Her voice was shivering.

He glanced at her, "You're cold."

She shook her head, but Umair, who never paid any heed to her, was back. Taking off his jacket, he placed it over her shoulder, "Here; it will keep you warm."

Her chilly skin burned under the warmth of his jacket. Within seconds her senses were clouded by its scent. His scent. The rain wasn't able to wash it off. The smell of something woody- like oak or amber. Something of ink. She realised– he was the kind who wore his personality in his perfume.

Now that his jacket was with her, the drenched shirt sticking to his body gave her a full view of his toned muscles. She blushed, looking away from him. He had chosen the wrong day to wear a white shirt. Well... Their surroundings and weather weren't really favouring Humaira.

A silent moment later, they resumed their walk, and even after trying hard, Humaira wasn't able to resist stealing glances at the sight moving along with her each step. She never caught Umair glancing at her, he was walking in a straight line, eyes fixed on the road, hands dug in his pockets, and face... unreadable.

They covered their remaining distance in silence with just the sound of rain and breeze surrounding them.

Once they reached her place, Humaira thanked him, returning his jacket that had kept her warm all this time. The very moment she was missing its warmth against her skin.

Umair took the jacket but didn't wear it back. Using two of his fingers as a hook, he threw it over his right shoulder, "See you tomorrow, Humaira."

"Good night, Sir."

"Night." He smiled turning his heel to walk the roads again from where he had come by her side.

Night? No good? No name? Just a night? She wondered, seeing him fading in the rain. Reading people's faces or voices wasn't her forte, she knew that. She never hated her inability to do so more than this moment.

When a completely drenched Umair reached home, he found  his brother waiting for him.

" Did you try to put some sense in her dumb brain, bhai?" Saad followed him like a lost puppy. "Can you really believe she snapped at me for that weirdo? And what kind of creep he was? Calling a girl half his age his fiancée. Bloody pedophile."

" Saad, " Umair stopped his brother," Be careful with what you're saying. Just because that person is older than her doesn't mean you can call him that. " He had a frown on his face," Humaira is not an underage child. She's a grown-up woman who can think of her well-being. "

"Grown-up woman? " Saad mocked," Are we surely talking about the same Humaira, bhai? Because I don't think so. She is anything but grown-up. You don't know her enough but I do. She's an emotional fool and impulsive. "

Umair suddenly had a keen interest in what his brother was saying," So you're telling me that Humaira is deciding to marry that person because of her emotional impulse? "

" Yeah. " He said in a duh tone," What if you are right? What if she actually liked me and now that Zoya and I are getting married, she has decided to marry this person in rage? "

Umair rolled his eyes, his hands resting on his hip," Brother, you're so full of yourself. Humaira has made it, very clear that she doesn't give a penny's worth of importance to you. What hurt her was Zoya hiding the fact that she was dating you all these months."

" Well, if not me then something else definitely is influencing her life decisions, bhai." He stated the obvious.

" Saad, why are you reacting this way. " Umair was confused with his brother's behaviour, " Forget about Humaira's feelings; you tell me about yours. Do you like her? " The accusation in his tone was subtle but present.

"What? No!" He cringed at the idea and, for a second, he understood how Humaira must have felt when people kept throwing this question at her. "She's someone I've known for my entire life, Bhai. " Unaware, he repeated the same line that Humaira keeps saying when asked about him. They surely knew each other well enough to speak each other's minds.

"She's my friend and I cannot see her surrendering to such things."

"Humaira is not the kind to surrender."

"Someone has to remind her that. And didn't you find that Furqan guy off? Who gets so comfortable in their first meeting?" He questioned their visitor's behaviour, "Even people closer to our age take time but this uncle-"

"Saad," he frowned at his brother but somewhere he was agreeing with him.

"Don't worry. I'll talk to her." Umair patted his brother's shoulder and headed towards his room.

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So Umair FINALLY apologised!

Humaira being Humaira laughed it off!

Kyun hai woh aisi?

Do you have any ideas?

Let me know what you guys think!

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