TEA

That day was dark.

Rain was in its full bloom. Thunderstorms. Lightening. Flashes. Splashing of Clouds. No noise except for the thunderstorm. The spattering of raindrops on many surfaces' roads, rooftops, carts, everything. She didn't wake up early that day, despite her habit. Maybe it was extra cozy that day or extra terrifying which led her to sleep a bit more than usual. She was covered with pillows so soft that one could not leave the bed in the weather that chill. Two clouds collided so ferociously that she woke up in tension. But after a moment she realized that it was raining so hard outside. Another realization amazed her that she had slept for way too long than her normal routine. A little guilty of her herself she left the bed and came to the window. The almond curtains were laid. She held the right one aside and viewed the world outside. She knew one thing.

Today was different.

Very different. The feel of the day was strange. She yawned and left the curtains as they were. Still, in her nightgown, she went downstairs for breakfast after washing her face. Her heart also reacted differently today. She did not act as usual even in the smallest of everyday matters. It resisted being on the routine and the thing was that she listened to it without thinking. Which normally never happened, she was a huge thinker. Her thoughts could drive her anywhere in moments. Even the smallest of things led her to heaps of thoughts and decisions. But today was different. She was not thinking about what to eat, what to wear, or what to do as the whole day awaits her. Plans for the rest of the day, nothing. No overthinking today, just peace. Peace of the heart. That is so important but is often remained neglected. All the curtains were laid in the house, and it seemed that there was no one except her. No soul, No human, No sign of life. Although there lived human beings. Almost dead, with a soul so lifeless that it was there merely for breathing. For keeping them alive. For reminding them that they are not dead, they have to live for who knows how long. She ate in the dark. With the tinkling music of the raindrops in the background.

She remained in her bed all afternoon. Nothing was grabbing her attention. She wanted to relax and feel the weather. Her tea time had long passed. It was a pure habit, that no matter what happens she could not abandon her tea, even for just the sake of fulfilling the duty at times.

Covered in blankets from head to toe she focused and focused on her breaths. The way she exhaled and inhaled, the way she was alive just because of the taking in and out of oxygen, and any time she could be dead like Catherine and her mother. She counted her breaths and felt relaxed at every count. No matter how afraid we are of our dreadful lives, in the tiniest corner of our hearts, in the places in our souls, which we don't recognize, ourselves, we know that we don't want to be dead. That life is far more precious than we think.

In the midst of that, the door knocked, almost faintly. It again knocked. And again. But she didn't open it. Along with the rhythm the rain created, the knocking on the door too helped in playing its part by producing a slight beat. The door knocked with such simplicity and subtlety that it was somewhat soothing. The ambiance was enthralling that day, just like everything else was. After some minutes had passed that she realized what was happening.

Someone was knocking at her door for too long with the same kindness and she was not opening the door. Another wave of guilt overpowered her. In an instant, she got out of bed and went to the door. The sound was still intact. But as soon as she arrived at the distance of only a step from the door, it stopped. Her steps were barely audible, perhaps the hearing sense of the person who was knocking was tremendously sensitive or… She stopped for just a second and then opened the door.

Surprised to see the person in front of her with a tray in one hand packed with all the tea items. Impulsively, she turned to a side and made room for him to enter. He stepped in and put that tray on the table. But said nothing and sat on the sofa.

She wanted to listen from him many things, many words of love and kindness. Though, he remained silent. In the depths of shock, fear, and hopes she was interrupted by the politest gesture she had ever seen. He held out his hand and guided her to come. Without giving anything a second thought, she hurried toward him and sat beside him. Now, words were not needed. The silence was full of them.

He turned to the teapot and brewed some tea in the cup, almost three quarter to the cup. Her gaze shifted to the movements of his hands. Then he mixed in some milk, exactly measuring. Lastly, half a teaspoon of sugar. His measurements were so precise, it seemed that he was counting every crystal of sugar and every drop of milk. He remembered everything. The teacup along with the saucer was in her hands now. She didn't remember when it came to her hands. But. It was her turn now she put her delicate hand on his and stopped his movements. He looked at her with eyes of incredulity but stopped working. She took another teacup and filled it with tea almost full but one centimeter less. It was also accurate. No milk was mixed and two teaspoons of sugar were added which were then softly mixed.

Now there was tea in their hands but no one took a sip. "You are here?" she began. "Yes," he whispered with a voice that did not sound his, to her. A tear escaped her eye when she heard his voice, it was so painful. So full of emotions that screamed. He held out his hand and wiped the tear on her cheek with the tip of his thumb. The rattling of the raindrops was still there. He shook his head which told her that today is not the day to cry, she can't let her tears escape her eyes today. She obediently followed his silent order and held back her tears. She took a sip to divert her attention, that tasted different too, not the same as usual. Meanwhile, his gaze was fixed on her. When some sudden words escaped his mouth

"Forgive me".