#vatanim sensin fanfiction

[punkchestnuts]

one door closes and another one opens

part 1, crossposted at ao3

The door to the apartment is locked and the key that she has, the one she’s been using for the majority of their lease, isn’t working. Hilal has half the mind to break the door down in sheer frustration and impatience. But there's a number of things that stops her from actually doing it. She's listing them all in her mind to quell the building anger at her door.

Reason number one: she’s dead tired from working an almost two-day shift at the hospital and that she’s seconds away from collapsing, which leads to…

Reason number two: she doesn't actually have the strength to break the door down even if she wanted to.

Reason number three: the landlord would be furious about his door being broken down, and

Reason number four: breaking down a door would only mean extra expense. There’s only so much she can spare in terms of money with her meager salary, and she barely has any savings for other stuff she wants to buy (like a new phone since her current one is old and its battery barely lives past half a day even at full charge). And…

Reason number five: She doesn’t want to have Yildiz, her sister, chip in by replacing the door when she earns almost as much as Hilal does. She’s aware of how stressed Yildiz is with the expenses at home, especially since they’ve been planning on moving to a better place. (They’re trying, really. But working as nurses in a country where healthcare workers are being paid shit wages complicates things. It’s also their sheer stubbornness and principles that keep them from going abroad despite how many people encourage them to do so. The idea is tempting, that’s for sure. But here is where their home is, where their family is, and where they know they can make the biggest difference.)

It's the fifth reason which stops her really. Yildiz is her older sister and although they bicker and fight like any other pair of siblings, Hilal doesn't want to be a burden than she already feels.

See, Hilal isn’t as inclined as Yildiz in maintaining a cozy and clean home. Hilal always has her things strewn about the apartment, always reasoning that she has many things that needed her focus and attention more (which is always effective in making her older sister look at her disbelief--they had the same job after all, and Yildiz was able to do her part of the chores).

But if you were to cite the differences between the sisters, you’d have to include the fact that Hilal has a laser-sharp focus and Yildiz had a better grip on multitasking. While Yildiz is able to clean the kitchen and answer work calls, Hilal is only able to accomplish one of those things in the belief that it’s better to do something with all your attention to the task rather than have it divided.

That kind of mentality often results in Hilal’s things cluttering about the apartment and on the furniture, unfinished coffee on possibly every surface, and her books abandoned in unlikely places. (Yildiz once found a copy of A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy in their washer. When asked how it got there, Hilal was just as confused as her older sister was.)

It’s not that Yildiz has never tried to instill the habit of cleaning into Hilal, there were efforts and there were improvements. Still, Hilal manages to forget. She’s a lot more understanding than before though, (it caused a lot of arguments and fighting when they started living together), and a lot more inclined to do what Yildiz asks her to do. (She doesn’t question or complain when her sister reminds her to do the dishes or fold their laundry.)

In summary, Yildiz has unending tolerance and patience for Hilal and it only seems fair to make things easier for the both of them by not breaking someone else's property.

So no. She’s not breaking down the door despite the overwhelming urge to. Instead, she tries the key again. Their front door does this sometimes. But it takes a few tries of the key to get it open. Sometimes it also takes a heavy push against the door to get the lock unhinge.

The building is old, and so are the rooms and doors inside. Everything is being maintained and repaired by the landlord who is probably just as old as the building is–which just means to say, very old. The landlord has shown a propensity to disfavor newer tools and technology. The light fixtures are outdated, the window panes are barely hanging on for dear life, the floors creak, and the wooden doors are actually peeling (there are only a few doors left that has some of the original paint).

The only things that seem to be up to date were the elevator and the heating system, which is something that became the deciding factor when Yildiz and Hilal were first looking for an apartment years ago. It had either been this apartment or the other one that required them to climb four flights of stairs. The decision was easy.

Hilal has been trying to open the door for more than 20 minutes and she’s too tired to try any further. With a sigh, she relents and goes to the landlord’s apartment on the first floor. Sometimes the door is stubborn and the lock remains unperturbed. When this happens, they get the landlord to open it since he has a magical way of making things work despite how broken they seem. This is the main reason why the landlord doesn’t really change things. He holds the principle of not replacing things when they’re still fully (relatively) functional.

There had been a time when Yildiz and Hilal got fed up and offered to pay for a new replacement for the door, but the landlord refused, saying that it wasn’t right and that replacing the door would alter the building's overall atmosphere. A few more rejections to have it replaced moved the sisters to actually start looking at other apartments.

She knocks on the landlord’s door and is opened by his daughter. She's a beautiful petite woman with short dark hair and cat-like eyes. Hilal remembers meeting her the first time when she and Yildiz were moving in. Hilal immediately admired the woman and her patience for her father, which the sisters quickly learned to have his own unique eccentricities.

Eftalya sighs when she sees it’s Hilal. Unfortunately, because of the near impossible structure of their schedules, they don’t usually come knocking Eftalya’s door for social calls. Hilal can only smile at the older woman.

There's flour on Eftalya’s forehead and even more on her arms and clothes. “Is it your door again?” she asks instead of a greeting and Hilal nods, feeling a little bad for interrupting what looks like a baking session.

“I got home over 20 minutes ago,” Hilal explains.

The older woman dusts the flour on her hands. “Wait here and I’ll call for Dad.” She leaves the door open when she steps away from the doorway. Hilal can hear a muffled argument inside and she doesn’t try to make out the words being exchanged.

Her and Yildiz have witnessed enough arguments between father and daughter throughout the years that they’ve learned to just drown it out when it happens. It’s those moments that Hilal is grateful for Eftalya’s eerie ability to convince her father to do anything. (And Hristos, the landlord, has always been stubborn. He always finds ways to justify his decisions, and to find fault in whatever argument coming his way. With Eftalya though, he seems to relent and agree with the faults in his argument that his daughter points out. Never mind that Hilal and Yildiz would point it out first.)

She was even the reason there was an elevator and a heating system in the building in the first place.

The one thing that Eftalya wasn’t able to accomplish was to have Hilal and Yildiz’s request to replace their front door. Hristos has put his foot down on that one and not even Eftalya can change his mind. They can’t exactly go behind his back either, even if Eftalya almost convinced the sisters to do just that.

The woman is persuasive if she wants to be, and it’s probably a good thing to have when you work as a singer at a bar. You have to charm your way into your audience if you wanted a heavy tip.

The muffled arguments dies down and Hristos walks towards the door with his old toolbox.

"Thank you, Papa," Eftalya calls out from inside. She’s probably back at the kitchen. "Although, you know you wouldn't have to keep going up if you just replace the door knobs!"

Mr. Hristos huffs and steps out of the apartment. “Those door knobs are a piece of history, you know?”

“That’s exactly why you need to replace them!”

Mr. Hristos doesn’t reply and closes the door instead. “Hello, Hilal,” he greets her. “Did you just get home from work?”

“Yes, I did,” she says and forces herself not to say that she hasn’t slept in two days and that she’s this close to collapsing to heap of pure exhaustion. After all, despite how eccentric and stubborn the old man is, he’s been nothing but very kind to Hilal and Yildiz.

Mr. Hristos smiles in understanding and walks up to the elevator. Hilal follows and answers appropriately when the old man asks about her day. She doesn’t say that she just came from a graveyard shift and had to stay when an accident involving a full bus occurred early in the morning yesterday.

She would have stayed for another day if not for the head nurse noticing her lagging behind and drinking cups upon cups of the disgusting coffee they had in the lounge. Hilal couldn’t say no and couldn’t force herself to stay even if she wanted to. The patients were stable, the other casualties from the accident were brought to other hospitals, and everyone knows she’s been there for more than 48 hours with no sleep and proper food.

(It’s a good thing that Yildiz doesn’t work at the same hospital as she does. Her older sister would surely get angry and would have dragged her to a cab home herself. Yildiz was always better at self-care than Hilal ever was.)

They get to their door and Mr. Hristos doesn’t waste time asking her if she’s done all she could to try and get the door to open. The old man knows that Hilal is headstrong and would ask for help as a last resort.

She watches Mr. Hristos bend down to open the door with his own key and tutting when it wouldn’t budge. He opens his box and begins tinkering with the faulty knob.

Hilal doesn’t bother watching what he’s doing since she’s long accepted the fact that even if she were to replicate whatever troubleshooting method the old man has done, it won’t matter because the doors have spirits of their own and only bow down to one man.

Instead, she leans heavily on the wall by the door to let Hristos work. Without the frustration fueling her, she can feel the past two days catching up to her body. Her bag feels heavier than it is, her skin feels sticky (and she tried cleaning herself with a pack of wipes back at the hospital once), her head aches from how tight she’s tied her hair up, and her eyes burn.

She can feel herself falling asleep then and there when she hears a the old man curse loudly. Mr. Hristos is in the middle of taking the entire knob out of the door.

“Do you need help, Mr. Hristos?” she asks, preparing to yank the knob out of the door and go directly bed.

“No,” he says and tries one last tug before sighing. He looks up at her from where he’s kneeling. “I’m afraid the knobs rusted itself glued to the door. I can’t take it out.”

“What can we do?” she asks, a mental image of both of them breaking the door down making itself welcome in her mind. “Can’t we oil it out?”

“We can, but that would mean taking the door out of the frame.”

“Can’t we take unscrew the hinges out?” she suggests.

“We can,” he says again, “but that would mean having to screw it back up again just to lock it, and I don’t want to do that every time you girls have to go out.”

“Well, I can’t exactly stay out of the apartment. I’m tired and I need to sleep,” she says, not at all caring anymore if she’s being rude. “I’ll just put up a curtain.”

Mr. Hristos tuts and bends down to firmly attach the door knob back. “No, I’m afraid the entire door has to be replaced. The knob won’t budge.”

Hilal doesn’t feel relieved that the old man is finally seeing sense to replace the door. “Then what are we going to do? I have to get into the apartment, Mr. Hristos.”

“I can take the door out of the hinges and while I can put it back, you’ll be shut inside. I don’t even want to let you leave your apartment open to the entire floor if I do take it out. It’s a security issue, dear. It’s safer to keep it locked until I get a replacement.”

“You’re basically locking me out of my home, Mr. Hristos.”

The old man smiles in apology. “I know, but it’s all for the good of the building and everyone in it.”

“I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go.”

“Well, you can stay with us for a while, if you’d like. But Eftalya has another shift at the bar and tonight’s BINGO night. If not, the motel a few blocks down is a good place too.”

Hilal can feel something weighing her down even more. “How long will it take until you find a replacement? I have to tell Yildiz in case she comes home early.”

Hristos hums. “It will take a while. Not a lot of companies still make this kind of knobs. Not to mention, I’d have to look for someone who can replicate the door design…”

“Is it really necessary to get a door that’s exactly the same when we can get a temporary one just for the security?”

Hristos tuts at her. “It’s not exactly economical if we buy a door and a knob just for them to get replaced, Hilal.”

“Is there no other way?” she asks. She can try to convince him, but she’s honestly too tired to do argue any further.

“Look, Hilal,” Mr. Hristos rubs at his temple as if he’s the one being inconvenienced. “I understand your frustration, but this is the best way to secure your safety and to continue the integrity of the building. Now, will you be staying with us or will you be staying elsewhere?”

Now the most practical choice here is to actually take up the old man’s offer and stay at their place. Eftalya and Mr. Hristos won’t be there so it won’t be awkward than it needs to be. But Hilal doesn’t want to be practical at the moment, especially when her frustration at the old man is growing exponentially by the second.

“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Hristos. I don’t want to impose on you and Eftalya.”

“Alright, then,” Mr. Hristos nods. “I’m sorry for this, but I promise I’ll work on it as fast as I can.”

“Thanks, Mr. Hristos.”

She watches the old man disappear into the elevator and Hilal takes this moment to sag against the wall. Defeat and exhaustion weighing her down even more. She lets herself feel tired for a while before taking her phone out to shoot a text to her sister about their situation. Hilal knows that Yildiz has a shift until the next morning but her older sister is fond of overtiming and offsetting her hours. At the very least, Yildiz can crash at one of the bunk beds at work. She only hopes that her sisters sees the text soon.

Although sleeping on the hallways and say fuck it, is very tempting at the moment, Hilal stands up and leaves the building. She decides to stay at a nearby cafe just to gather her energy reserves. The motel Mr. Hristos had been talking about was a walkable distance but even a couple of blocks seems too much an effort in Hilal’s state.

She’s sipping on a fruit-berry black tea after eating an almond croissant, when she gets a reply from her sister.

Yildiz: You’re not staying at the motel.

You can crash at Ali Kemal’s place.

I just texted him and he’s not on duty now.

Also, as bad as this situation is, I’m glad the door’s finally getting fixed.

Hilal: And where else am I going to stay?

Her sister doesn’t reply until Hilal has finished her tea.

Yildiz: You can crash at Ali Kemal’s place.

I just called him and he’s okay with you staying while the door’s getting fixed.

Hilal: Isn’t he on duty now?

Yildiz: No, I wouldn’t call him if I knew he was.

Her phone suddently vibrates at a new text message.

Ali Kemal: it’s OK, ur not inconveniencing me. just come over.

n yes, ur sister told me 2 tell u

but it doesn’t make it less tru

Hilal sometimes hate how her sister knows her too well. Yildiz knows that Hilal will always try not to impose on other people, especially when it comes to her own issues. She would’ve argued with Yildiz about staying at the motel instead, but if she is honest with herself, staying with Ali Kemal (who was a close friend) sounds more appealing than staying alone at a motel. She texts her sister.

Hilal: Okay. Thanks for making the call.

Yildiz: No problem. Rest well, and let’s hope Hristos finishes the freaking door before my shift.

She takes that as a finality and begins to gather her things. She’s doesn’t have the energy to argue with her sister and Ali Kemal even if she didn’t want to.

She tells Ali Kemal she’s on her way and hails a cab to his place. His place is a lot further than the motel, but she just doesn’t feel like commuting (she feels like collapsing in the middle of the road, really).

Ali Kemal is a very good friend of Yildiz. They met in the same community college where Yildiz was taking her nursing degree and Ali Kemal was taking a course program to train as a paramedic. Hilal has met him a few times at parties and other events she attended with Yildiz, and she’s come to know Ali Kemal as serious and having a dark sense of humor.

He looks too serious (see: unapproachable) to be a paramedic, but at the same time does look like someone who won’t mind a little mess when he’s busy applying gauze and stopping wounds from bleeding too much.

He looks like someone who can kill as much as he can save people, and Hilal found the irony daunting. Yildiz only thought it was a reason to tease the man even more.

But with the amount of time Hilal’s got to know him, she’s come to realize that Ali Kemal is a sweet and kind person.(She also had the suspicion that he had (has?) a crush on Yildiz for a while, but she never got to ask him if it was (or is) true.)

The ride to his place was short. The building is slightly better than the one the sisters were staying in: it wasn’t as old and rickety. Besides that, there aren’t big differences. The neighbors were nice, the neighborhood had a convenience store, a laundromat, and a nearby bus stop, and the rent was reasonable — all things that can be found in the sisters’ current building. The only edge that Ali Kemal’s place had over theirs was the fact that his front door doesn’t fail at being a door as often as the sisters’ do.

Ali Kemal buzzes her in before she could ring his doorbell, and Hilal appreciates that he’d been looking out for her arrival. She gets to his apartment and he greets her with a smile and his uniform on.

“Did you just step out of your shift?” she asks as he welcomes her inside.

“No,” Ali Kemal says. “I’m not supposed to be on duty today. Day off, supposedly. But a coworker called in a favor I can’t back down from.” He gestures her to sit on the couch and disappears into the kitchen. There is a small pile of blankets and a fluffy pillow there.

“I can look for a different place to stay,” Hilal offers but the older man comes out of the kitchen with a look of disapproval and a glass of water.

“You’re more than welcome to stay, Hilal.” She’s forced to accept the glass of water and finally sit down on the couch. “I’m only covering them for the rest of their shift anyway.”

“Oh okay.”

“I’m serious. I’m not turning you away when you literally look like you’re about to keel over, and especially when Yildiz already told me about what happened.” Ali Kemal looks at her right in the eye when he says this, arms akimbo. “Now, I hadn’t been able to clean out the guest room but the couch is yours. I also don’t have much in terms of food but I figured you’d be doing more sleeping than eating.”

Hilal snorts. “Yeah, you’d be right.”

Ali Kemal smiles in sympathy. “You’re also free to use the bathroom too if you want to wash up before sleeping. I put some extra clothes and and toothbrush in there.”

She almost cries at this. “Thank you so much for doing this, Ali Kemal. I totally owe you one.”

The man ruffles her hair as he’s wont to do ever since they bonded over their mutual hate for this one instructor they had the (dis)pleasure of having a class in. (She remembers the conversation vividly since it was over bad coffee in the same apartment. The coffee was from the vending machine at the hospital Ali Kemal and Yildiz worked at. It was another thing they agreed on.) Hilal swats his hand away when a lively guitar riff starts playing. Ali Kemal curses as he checks the watch on his wrist. “Oh shit, lemme take this.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket before he walks to the kitchen to answer the call. Hilal takes this time to send another text to Yildiz that she’s at Ali Kemal’s. Her sister doesn’t reply but Hilal only thinks her sister has gone back to work.

Ali Kemal walks back to the living room. “Yeah, sorry, that was the friend I’m covering for. I have to go.”

“Okay, have fun at work.”

“Sure,” he says as he picks up a jacket on the coffee table. “I’ll try to come back early and with some food, hopefully.”

“And if you do come back early, don’t wake me up.”

Ali Kemal laughs. “Sure thing. Make yourself at home and all that, and if anything happens then just shoot me a text.” He checks his watch again. “And now I really have to go.”

“I can handle myself just fine. Just go and thank you again.”

He shoots her a finger gun before grabbing a bag from the hallway and leaving the apartment.

Hilal is alone now and although she never recalls the couch being so comfortable before (and she doesn’t want anything more than to just sleep there and then). But she did just come out of a two-day (one can argue a near three-day) shift and she has the urge to wash off the two-day sweat out of every surface inch of her. So with a lot of willpower, she drags herself away from the couch and heads to the bathroom.

True enough, there is a set of clothes on the counter along with a white fluffy towel and a toothbrush that’s still in the packet. She doesn’t really mind the strong-scented products Ali Kemal uses, but she does scrunch her nose when she sees he uses 2-in-1 shampoo. Somehow, she’s not really surprised.

She changes into the clothes he’s prepared for her and makes a beeline for the couch. She usually lets her hair air dry, but this is one of those instances where she doesn’t care what her hair may look like after. She makes a small nest of blankets and pillows (she grabs some of the throw pillows from the other chairs) and falls asleep instantly once she lies down.

[midnightstarsky]

Vatanim sensin au fic link

So I decided to post my long vs cartel au aka the “narcos crossover with vatanim sensin and lot of hilal story” on fanfiction.net to make it easier to organize and store the story. And it makes it easier for people to read the story all in one place.

Here’s the link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12550755/1/CevVas-Cartel-When-Family-and-Fighting-a-Cartel-Mix

You can leave reviews even if you don’t have an account so please leave reviews! I would love to know what you guys think!

[mytalemyworld]

VATANIM SENSIN/WOUNDED LOVE - SEASON 1 FINALE (EPISODE 31) ALL HILAL & LEON SCENES

Just 5.53 minutes but still are enough to make you feel all emotions.

And a small warning, I couldn't stop myself from writing my comments after I translated it. *lol* Sorry about that.

PART I (between 00:00-02:41 minutes)

Hilal: I am sorry for your loss. (Literally -> May your life be spared.) Leon: May your life be spared...What a strange statment. Do you say that when someone died? Hilal: Yes. Leon: See? You are not the only one who suffers..who is oppressed... (Hilal holds his hand.) Hilal: Leon...I don't know if it is helpful, but I can do only this. Leon: You don't need to hide that you are pleased secretly. The man you hate died. Greek Army Commander Vasili died as a traitor. Are you happy now? Do you feel at ease? Hilal: Of course not. This won't change what he did. It won't bring the people he massacred back, either. Leon: On top of that your father has taken his place. Do you think anything will change? Won't he give the same orders too? Didn't he even set this trap for my father to be able to take his place? Hilal: Trap? Leon: Ali Kemal...is my brother, they say. Hilal: Didn't you believe this? Leon: Could we be brothers, Hilal, is this possible? We don't have anything in common. (Hilal turns to him) Hilal: Actually you have. Both of you are stubborn. Both of you are fighters. Both of you...are ready to sacrifice your lives for your loved ones. Leon: He is my brother or not...my dad died because of him. He will account for this. (*) Hilal: What does this mean? Leon: Stay away from this issue Hilal.

(*) He is impliying that he will do something to Ali Kemal. Because this statement is a threat. So that's why Hilal asked him what he meant immediately.

While translating, "Both of you...are ready to sacrifice your lives for your loved ones." line made me emotional. Because Hilal must have referred to the event that Ali Kemal took the blame instead of her in the first episode. And Leon, didn't he also refuse to say anything about the guns and accept to die so that she would live? Those two men would do anything for her. And she knows it.

Also she was so cute when she told Ali Kemal and Leon had so much in common. You know, Ali Kemal was her brother until now.  Although she was about to lose a brother, she stayed strong, didn't act selfish and talked sweetly with him. It is also interesting to see that when one of them is in a depressive state the other one tries to ligthen the mood. Aww. 

Now give me all Ali Kemal&Leon bromance. I need it so much.

PART II (between 02:41-04:59 minutes)

Leon: My mom wants to return to Athens. I can't send her away alone. Hilal: Of course you shouldn't. Leon: Come with us. Come out of this war, too. Your eyes shall not see any more pain. Hilal: Leon, this isn't possible. You know that. Leon: Why not? Hilal: Because I belong here. Leon: We are going to board the ship that is leaving tomorrow. Hilal: I can't. Leon: Think throughly. I will wait for you. Hilal: Leon, I can't. Even if I want to, I can't come. I can't leave here, my family. I will be useless there, I am needed here. Leon: Don't you want this war to end, too? And the other side of this war isn't Greeks? Do you really think that what you will say, what you will tell, what you will write there can be useless? There will be found a remedy. Look, you and me, when we love each other, when we are side by side, is there any bigger proof than this?..Is there any greater resistance than this? Say that you will think about it. At least do this for me. Hilal: Okay. Leon: Okay. Hilal: I will think about it. Leon: I will be waiting for you on the Pier Ship departing tomorrow.

After he had said "come with us", she stopped sulking. She was so cute. Oh my darling, how could you think that he wouldn't ask you to come with him, is this even possible? After he had asked her, her eyes shined, oh my my...why, they have suffered enough, give them a break, dear fate!

PART III - THE LAST PART

Actually, there is no need to translate.

Leon: Goodbye, Young Lady. Hilal: Goodbye, Lieutenant.

There are not enough words to translate how much pain in these words though.

***

All right. The crew deserved a holiday. They worked very hard. Actually like Leon said, we need to come out of this madness for a while too. *lol* This show didn’t give me a break. But of course I can’t do this. Probably we will continue to talk about them and whenever we watch their scenes again we will remember how they seperated. It’s just inevitable. So, dear fandom, please write good, hopeful fanfictions!

[potterkinson]

Returning the favour... 🍀 6, 14, 44, and 51.

Thank you

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

Harry Potter : Harmony (because childhood)

Harry Potter : Dramione (Only fanon)

Vatanim Sensin/Wounded Love : Hileon

Pulseras Rojas: Cris and Lleó

The 100 : Bellarke (Bellamy/Clarke)

Rebelde Way: Mia and Manuel (I shipped them before I knew what shipping was)

14. Go on, who are your BroTPs? 

I’ll answer for Harry Potter : Harry/Hermione (yes, they are an OTP and BroTP at the same time), Harry/Draco, Draco/Pansy, Draco/Blaise, Pansy/Daphne, Harry/Ron.

44. What ship do you feel needs more attention?

Again for Harry Potter: Hansy and Regumione

51. Rant or Gush about one thing you love or hate in the world of fanfiction! Go!

What I love in the fanfiction world? THE WRITERS! They improve the canon and make the impossible things happen. I love all of you

[punkchestnuts]

One door closes, and another one opens, part 2

Crossposted at ao3.

Trigger warning: mentions of violence, child abuse, abortion, blood, and attempted su!c1d3

The part containing these is just a paragraph, but can be skipped. The indicator is ///. You can continue reading after the second ///.

Please take care.

—-

It’s the curtains she sees first when she comes to. It’s a sheer grey fabric instead of the maroon ones she has in her room and she stirs at the realization. She’s not in her bed either because the surface she's laying in is firmer; she can smell a faint citrusy smell that isn’t the kind she or Yildiz use on their own laundry. It takes her a few seconds to register that she’s not in her apartment, and to remember why she’s at Ali Kemal’s couch.

She’s not entirely sure how long she’s been asleep for. She didn’t leave any lights on when she went to sleep, and she sure as hell didn’t put in any alarms to remind her how many hours she wanted to sleep for. She stretches and snuggles closer to a pillow, knowing she doesn’t really care how many hours she slept, only that she is able to sleep at all.

Speaking of alarms, Hilal doesn’t remember where she placed her phone. It wasn’t on the coffee table across the couch, nor was it lodged in between the cushions; squeezed behind her as she’s wont to do on her own bed (in this case, she just throws the device behind her. She’s a small person, so a single offers her a lot more space than the average person). But because she’s a human being living in a digital age, the anxiety of not knowing where her phone is (which she suspects is dead given its faulty battery life) is more concerning than getting more hours of Z’s.

She sits up and looks around for the device, but she jumps when she realizes she’s not alone as she had expected to be. There’s clanking coming from the kitchen and she can smell a faint whiff of something garlicky and fragrant being made in there. She relaxes when she remembers Ali Kemal telling her he’d be bringing food when he comes back. If she had to be honest about it though, she’d thought the man was bringing take-out instead of actual groceries to be cooked here; not to mention, she’d feel even more embarrassed if he actually does cook for her.

She makes a mental note to thank Ali Hemal for keeping the lights off in the living room.

If Ali Kemal is back, then he's back early. That, or Hilal just slept longer than she thinks.

Which brings her back to her dilemma: her phone.

She didn’t have to look too far because once she sets her feet on the floor, she feels her toe hit something solid and small. Pulling up the rest of the blanket that fell on the floor, she finds her phone face down on the ground. She immediately checks the time. (Pleasantly surprised the thing wasn't completely dead when she tapped on the screen. It still has 3 percent left, but it is impressive all the same.)

It’s nearly 7 pm. She came by at Ali Kemal’s after lunch time, so that makes a good amount of hours spent sleeping. Not enough, but it is a good amount given her already erratic sleeping schedule. If she is honest, she knows she’ll fall back to sleep after some food.

(There aren’t a lot of messages and notifications, besides the one where her sister asking if she’s settled and the head nurse basically asking the same.)

She’s vaguely aware of how hungry she is and the teasing scent of sauteed garlic and mushrooms is enough for her to decide that she food is in order before going back to sleep. Hilal walks into the kitchen only to be completely taken aback when it’s not Ali Kemal inside the kitchen.

She can only see the man’s back but she knows it’s not Ali Kemal. Ali Kemal is broader, his hair darker, and he certainly doesn’t seem the type to be humming to himself as he prepares some food. But the man in the kitchen is just as tall as Ali Kemal, his shoulders are considered broad but it’s accentuated by the slim waist (even more accentuated by the fact the man was wearing a fancy shirt tucked into his pants AND the apron tied around his waist). Hilal stops herself from ogling the stranger and looks for potential weapons.

She has no idea who this man is, and she’s a little wary of the fact that Ali Kemal has never told her about having a roommate nor did he warn her of anyone coming to visit. Ali Kemal is someone who likes his privacy and wouldn’t easily invite people over (hence why Hilal is a little surprised at Ali Kemal’s easy acquiesce to playing the host).

He doesn’t seem to notice her creeping behind him either, and she’s thankful she’s not wearing any slippers; the sound of her steps silence by the thick fabric of her socks.

The man looks too familiar with the place: he’s flipping the pan confidently, humming what sounds like a number from a musical she can’t remember the name to, and he takes a spoon out of a drawer. Clearly he knows his way around the kitchen.

He couldn’t have broken in because she would’ve heard something, and she would’ve woken up to half of Ali Kemal’s things missing from where they’re supposed to be. He doesn’t look like someone who breaks in either, not with the crisp baby blue shirt and the well-fitting trousers (and boy do they fit *well*). That would mean he has a key.

But who would Ali Kemal give a key to his apartment to?

Hilal decides to do something about it. The man’s starting to actually sing and the mushrooms smell amazing, it’s all very distracting.

She clears her throat as loudly as she can. “Excuse me,” she says, interrupting the man who jumps slightly when he hears her. “Who are you?”

The man turns. And honestly? He was hot, and he had a mustache. Who in their youth would want to sport a moustache? But he makes it work. There’s a bit of stubble along his chin and jawline and it should not be attractive as it should. (She doesn’t have an issue with hairy men; she does in fact have fond memories of pulling at her father’s beard when she was a little girl). But facial hair wasn’t something she usually found attractive on a man.

His face is all angles: smooth jawline and a subtle aquiline nose. Hilal mentally shakes herself out of it and glares him down.

He blinks a few times before smiling sheepishly. “Uh, just give me a sec,” he says before clearing his throat and puts a li over the pan. He wipes his hands on the apron and turns towards her, leaning against the counter.

“Hi,” he greets. “You’re awake. Please have a seat.” He gestures to the chair closest to her. “Let me just finish this up really quickly,” he nods towards the pan on the stove. “Please don’t hit me. I promise, I’m a friend. Uh, friendly, at the very least.”

She doesn’t find that hard to believe, but she isn’t any less wary. She doesn’t take a seat, instead crosses her arms across her chest and continues to glare him down. “Excuse me if I don’t believe you.”

The man nods with an understanding smile. He straightens. “Right, I apologize. I’m Leon. Ali Kemal told me you’d be here and I figured you haven’t eaten anything yet.” He looks over his shoulder. “Sorry, I really need to see this,” he says and turns back around to attend to whatever he’s cooking up.

She just lets him finish the food. She watches him grab things from the cupboard and cabinets, further strengthening her initial theory that he is very familiar with the place. He generally moves around the kitchen like he’s made many meals in there many times before. Despite this, Hilal remains wary. This doesn't negate possibility that this man might be a potential serial killer.

In the back of her mind, she’s trying to remember if Ali Kemal did mention a roommate or a significant other that comes and goes in his place. Hilal feels bad if he had and she managed to forget. She actually prides herself for remembering random facts about people, like their birthdays or what their usual orders at cafés are.

There are three possibilities regarding this situation. The first is that she has forgotten if Ali Kemal mentioned anyone living with him (Hilal will definitely feel like the worst person if this is true). The second is that Ali Kemal deliberately didn’t tell her and that the reason why he hasn’t told her earlier is because he isn’t expecting company (she doesn’t know what to feel about this one). Finally, the third is that this man is actually a stranger and he’s getting ready to get Hilal into a false sense of security and kill her at the most opportune moment (now this one is probably the most unlikely, but Hilal *does* like her true crime podcasts and documentaries. Plus, she works at a hospital where she’s heard a lot of stories and handled a lot of cases that involved police investigations—can you blame an imaginative mind?).

Leo(?) is turning off the stove and Hilal watches him drain some pasta in a colander. He takes out two plates from the cupboard and expertly divides the pasta into two before pouring some white sauce onto the top. It smells really good and although Hilal knows pasta is one of the least difficult dishes to do, she has to admit that she’s impressed.

She's further impressed when the man bends over to take something out of the oven—a particular appliance that she just *knows* Ali Kemal never uses (not even for reheating pizza. She bets he uses his microwave for that.)

The smell of butter and the tell-tale scent of freshly baked bread hits her before the man places the tray on the kitchen island and Hilal sees that it is bread (bread!).

Who makes homemade garlic bread? Who has the time and the patience? But then again, the man looks like he could cook anyway, which again, somehow doesn’t surprise her. He looks like the type.

She watches him expertly arrange the food into the plates. The smile he does when he's satisfied with the look definitely doesn't (does) make Hilal’s glare falter. She fixes it back again when the man looks at her with a another smile.

Without missing a beat, he begins to put away the pans and utensils he used. He grabs two forks from a drawer and slides one of the plates towards Hilal. The smile on his face is relentless and she willfully ignores the wayward (but insistent) thought of how attractive he is.

“Pasta aglio e olio,” he says. “I didn’t know what you preferred, but I hope this is okay.”

She eyes the food for a short while before sighing and walking to the kitchen table. She is hungry after all, and the pasta looks *really* good. But she doesn’t sit down yet. “What’s your name again? And how do you know Ali Kemal?”

“I'm Leon,” he says and extends a hand for a handshake. She shakes it hesitantly, and she doesn't want to think about how big his hand looks in comparison to hers. “He’s my older brother,” he adds with another smile. He’s reaching for something behind him and takes a phone out. “I have proof.”

For a second, she thinks he’ll pull up their birth certificates to show her. An absurd thought, but he taps on the screen a few times and hands her the phone. He has to walk around the table just to do it, and Hilal can’t stop herself from noting he smells like garlic and a little bit woody (probably what’s left of his cologne). She hates it that the man smells nice despite just sauteing garlic. She hates it even more that she's picking up all these little things about him as if they were going to matter in the long run.

She mentally shakes her off of the thought (again) and looks at the screen. The first thing she is is Ali Kemal and Leon wearing hideous Christmas sweaters. Ali Kemal is wearing a green one with crocheted patterns of Christmas lights. Leon’s sweater is red with tiny dancing snowmen. Ali Kemal has the other man in a chokehold but both men have smiles on their faces.

“That was take last Christmas. My mom took it and sent me a copy just because,” he says for context. “Saved it because it's the first Christmas he came back home to in years.”

She just nods and swipes to sees a picture of them in tuxedos. They have pink roses pinned to their jackets and they were standing in front of a flower archway. There are chairs behind them with people in soft colors mingling about.

“Cousin's wedding. We both thought that the bride was too good for Alexei, but she keeps him civil at least. Again, my mother took the picture.” There’s a smile in his voice that prevents Hilal from commenting about the fact he’s sharing too much to a total stranger. He looks like he’s enjoying it and Hilal thinks it’s nice that their mother takes photos of them.

“I bet your mother's phone is just filled with pictures of the two of you,” Hilal finds herself saying.

Leon laughs. “Yeah, it is. Don't be surprised when she whips up a few baby photos when you meet her.”

She raises a brow at him and he clears his throat. “Well, she does that to people she's just met. That's just how she is.” He changes the subject by swiping the screen.

The next picture is of them as children. This picture manages to make her smile, as she recognizes a younger, baby-faced Ali Kemal. For all the time she's known him, Ali Kemal always maintained a thick beard. Even when Yildiz showed her pictures of the man during their college days, Ali Kemal already had a forming patch of hair lining his jaw and upper lip. But he never let it grow too big and keeps it as close to his skin as possible. (It is a little unhygienic for a paramedic to sport such a long beard anyway.)

She can also recognize Leon in the picture, although she has to look up and compare the faces she sees on the photo and under the kitchen light.

Ali Kemal and Leon don't seem to have striking similar features. Ali Kemal has a darker shade of brown that it’s almost black, while Leon had a lighter shade. It almost looks chestnut when he’s under direct light. Leon's nose is a little sharper, and Ali Kemal's eyes a little more hooded. Despite that, both share the same shade of brown eyes.

The differences in their appearance may not help the claim that they're brothers, but Hilal doesn't question it too much. After all, she had more differences than similarities with her own sister in terms of physical appearances.

Yildiz has the beautiful dark hair, the olive green eyes, the slim and tall physique which she got from their mother. Hilal has the chestnut brown hair, the blue eyes she got from their father and a slightly curvier and smaller physique.

What they lack in similarity of physical features, they make up for in attitude and virtues. They are both stubborn and passionate like their mother, but brave and unrelenting like their father. Maybe this is the case for Ali Kemal and Leon as well.

There's no way of finding out just yet, though. Yet, she still looks up at Leon expectedly, waiting for a little anecdote about why or who took the picture (she can guess it’s their mother again).

Leon chuckles at the picture. “Oh that,” he smiles even wider, showing off a subtle indent on his cheeks. *Dimples.* Of course he has dimples. Ali Kemal has them too. But damn.

“That picture has a funny story actually.”

It should. The picture of the brothers had them strewn on the floor. Ali Kemal lying on the floor with a chicken leg in hand, and Leon was lying on top of his brother with a chicken wing and an empty bucket of KFC worn like a hat. They were both staring at the photo as if the flash took them by surprise.

“Our dad came home with a bucket of chicken. He’d been away at the time and Ali Kemal and I just pounded on the bucket, completely ignored the parent we hadn’t seen in days.”

“How’d you to end up on the floor?” Hilal asks.

“I wanted the chicken leg but my brother wouldn’t let me have it. Naturally, we wrestled for it. Mom just decided to take a picture.”

Hilal doesn’t allow herself to laugh too hard, but she does laugh. The mental image of two boys fighting over a chicken leg is hilarious and it’s hard to picture someone as posh as Leon wrestling on the floor.

Before she can get carried away, Hilal hands the phone back to Leon who accepts with a satisfied smile. Hilal ignores it but is relieved the man is most likely who he says he is.

"Alright then," she says and crosses her arms against her chest. She's suddenly aware of the fact that she's not wearing a bra. "I hope you don't mind me asking about what you're doing here?"

Leon walks back to his place across from her. “I’m staying over for a while. I do that when I have to be in town.” He sits down and pauses as if mulling a thought over. “You don’t mind me digging into this? It’s going to get cold.”

She shakes her head and thinks about sitting down. No, she still has questions.

“You’re not from here?”

“No, I’m based elsewhere but I do have to drive down here sometimes.” He bites into the bread. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious though. I do have a habit of not foretelling my brother about coming over. He doesn’t check his phone a lot either—you know, being a paramedic and all. That’s why he gave me a spare key. I did message him when I got into town. He’s probably still on duty.”

Hilal hums. "When did you get here anyway?"

He checks his watch. "I drove into town roughly three hours ago. But I’ve been at this apartment for two. I had to go grocery shopping knowing my brother probably hadn’t stacked up again.”

Leon looks at her for a while. “Won’t you sit down? You might as well sit if you’re going to continue interrogating me. I can reheat the food later."

He gestures towards the seat again and this time Hilal takes it. The pasta does smell good and she still feels how sore her knees are from being on her feet for most of the past two days. She takes the fork by the plate and prods at the pasta.

Leon chuckles. "Relax, I didn't poison it or anything. I'm actually a pretty good cook." His smile falters. "Or you don't like pasta?"

"Pasta is fine," she says and twirls some pasta with her fork. "And saying you're a pretty good cook does not negate the possibility that you might have poisoned it."

"Oh come on, what do I have to gain from poisoning you? I barely know you."

"I barely know you either, yet here I am, risking my life to eat a meal you prepared."

"Yes, but I didn't think you were a hobo the first time I saw you on the couch. Can't you just eat? I’m hardly the first stranger to cook you a meal."

Hilal sighs and takes a bite. She doesn't mean to be difficult, really. There's something about this man that makes her wary. It's funny because she had this exact same feeling when she first met Ali Kemal. He was expressionless: his eyes deep and didn't betray any emotion. His mouth was firm and unsmiling. He just nodded and offered his hand when Yildiz introduced them, and he didn't talk to her the rest of the evening besides bid her good night when they left.

Meeting Leon is the exact opposite though. While Ali Kemal is more reserved, Leon is all smiles and accommodation. The man has shared more about his past than Ali Kemal ever has. She has to find out the man has a brother only when the said-brother makes himself known. She hasn’t even had a proper meal with Ali Kemal either.

The pasta is really good.

She doesn't want to give Leon that satisfaction however and just eats.

Leon seems to see right through her and he smiles triumphantly before turning to his plate. Again, she shouldn’t be finding this attractive. The man is only eating, for crying out loud.

"So, Ali Kemal tells me you're in medicine too?" Leon asks at some point. They haven't talked since Hilal started eating, and all noise was the clacking of their forks against the plate.

She nods. "Yes, I'm a nurse."

He hums and nods. "That's nice. Thank you for everything you've done so far."

Hilal just nods in acknowledgment. Her face heats a bit since she's not really used to that. (She's wrong. She receives thanks and expressions of gratitude very often, but imposter syndrome can be a bitch sometimes and won't let her bask in her genuine awesomeness.) She's aware of how underappreciated people in the medical field are and are often paid inappropriately for their services. It's good to know that some people, Leon included, can see their importance despite how much people would unconsciously rank professions and careers into some weird success hierarchy.

"I made you uncomfortable," Leon smiles sheepishly as if he actually did something to upset her.

"Oh no," she amends, and realizes she's been poking at her food. She sets her fork aside."On the contrary, thank you."

He clears his throat. "I actually dropped a pan by accident," he says. "I took a peek to see if I woke you, but you were out like a light. That must have been one hell of a shift."

She shrugs. “There was an accident on 5th Avenue and there were a lot of casualties. Our hospital had been the closest.”

He nods. “Yeah, I heard about that on the radio on my way here. I heard a few people died and almost everyone had serious injuries.”

“Yeah, the ER was completely full and the patients kept coming, it was all-hands on deck. My head nurse still forced me to go home today.”

“Well, the accident happened yesterday morning. That would mean you’ve been working since then?”

“Longer than that actually. I was just on my way out of my shift when the emergency was called in, and like I said, it was all-hands on deck. Every nurse and doctor on a day off was being called in to help.”

He clicks his tongue. "I'm surprised you've slept for how long you did. You should still be in bed."

She chuckles. "You get used to it. I'm actually lucky to have slept so long as I have."

He whistles. “As depressing as that sounds, it’s also kind of impressive,” he remarks.

“Thank you, it took me years to perfect.”

He chuckles at that and they both continue eating.

“So what do you do?” Hilal asks. “Besides doing the groceries for your older brother?”

He rolls his eyes. “Funny,” he says sardonically. “But no, I do not buy groceries for my older brother. I buy groceries for myself to eat when I’m here. But to answer your question, I’m a lawyer.”

“Hm,” she hums. “Your parents must be really proud to have their sons work in the medical field and law. You two are every parents’ dream sons.”

He scoffs. “Not exactly. Remember, Ali Kemal is the oldest and he’s a paramedic.”

She frowns. “What do you mean? Paramedics may not be doctors, but they help just as much.”

Leon makes a choking sound. “Sorry, I misspoke. I didn’t mean it that way. Of course, paramedics are first person responders and they do a lot to save people. Just a little context, my father is a lawyer. Naturally he wanted both his sons to get into law, but Ali Kemal didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. He said he wanted to do medicine instead and Dad was okay with it, even if did try to persuade my brother a few times at first. Only, Ali Kemal chose a community college and decided to become a paramedic instead of a doctor which he’d let Dad believe. Imagine how furious our dad was when he found out. He’s still holding onto the hope he’d get into med school eventually.”

Hilal hums. “And that’s what you meant by Ali Kemal being a paramedic.”

“Yes, in the context of him being the oldest son and therefore having certain expectations career-wise.“

She smiles, “And what about you? You wanted to get into law or did your father make sure you did after Ali Kemal?”

He shakes his head. “I wanted to get into law, which was a huge relief to our father. Only I didn’t want to follow my dad’s footsteps into corporate law.”

“Of course you didn't. What did you take then?”

"Civil rights," he says and Hilal laughs. "My father should have expected it though."

"What did he feel about that?"

Leon shrugs. "He was disappointed and he still feels like I'm wasting my talents when I get more pro bono cases than actual paid ones, but he can't deny it's what makes me happy. I like my job and I like that I get to give people a decent shot at justice in this shitty system."

She smiles. “Impressive. Though, you’re not just saying that because you’re trying to cover up that you’re actually a serial killer?”

Leon laughs heartily. “I’m starting to think you’re wishing I was.”

Hilal chuckles through her nose. “Until Ali Kemal physically acknowledges you as his brother, I’m on high alert.”

He just shrugs and continues to eat.

Hilal is quite impressed with the man—barring the possibility that he may not be who he says he is, because honestly, Hilal believes him to be Ali Kemal’s brother. She’s unwittingly playing a game, and Leon is letting her.

Besides that, she is right about the brothers being similar in different ways. There are gaping differences between Leon and his brother, and she didn't really expect much, but now it is evident that they are indeed similar in the fact that they cared. They care a lot about helping other people. It’s something that tickles her into knowing more.

"Allow me to thank you as well,” she says. “For fighting the good fight," she says and she receives a small smile in return. Hilal means it.

///

She sees the news, and she sees injustice playing out everyday at work when people come in with heavy bruises caused by hands that thought their skin is a little too dark. She sees it when kids are being rolled into the ER because their parents sees it entertaining to beat the shit out of them; or when women have to come in with blood gushing from between their legs in a botched self-attempted abortion; or even kids who are reluctantly brought in with slit wrists just because they can’t dress the way they want to.

///

A lot has to be done, yet people like Leon exist. It has to say something.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” she asks, when she sees a bit of red shading the man’s ears.

Leon gives her a look. It’s a look that knows what she means, that acknowledges the things that she sees and knows. It’s a look that recognizes a kindred soul. It’s a look that makes Hilal warm all over.

“Not at all.”

[punkchestnuts]

room for one more soul, a hileon fic

This fic is crossposted in AO3. Leon places a new cup of coffee on the desk next to her laptop. Hilal barely notices it as she stares at the screen of her laptop as if it's one of the more idiotic questions that's been asked from her in book fairs. Her fingers tap against the desk surface as she bites her nails. Her eyes are fixed on the blinking cursor of a working document. This has been the same image he’s been seeing every time he checks up on her every hour or so.

He sighs and gently pries her fingers from her mouth. He does this often and Hilal never likes it because she feels like a toddler being reminded not to shove her fingers in her mouth. He always likes to remind her that he does that often because she keeps biting her nails. (She always tells him that there are other ways to make her stop doing it. The conversation always ends up in circles.)

"Hilal," he reprimands her gently when she's already glaring at him. "Why don't you take a break?"

She tuts and pulls her hand from his. "I have a deadline," she says firmly and turns her attention back to her laptop. Despite that, she doesn’t press any keys.

Leon sighs again. "Hilal, agapi mou.” He leans down to meet her level. “You haven't written a single sentence in 30 minutes. You've barely written a paragraph in an hour, and truthfully, you’re not making any progress."

"Don’t remind me," she basically bites.

"You haven't eaten anything either," he presses.

She groans and shuts off her laptop. "How can I accomplish anything if you keep breathing down my neck? Maybe you just need to leave me alone."

She's looking at him with her glorious blue glare. He should be afraid but he can't unsee the bags, under or the redness rimming the white of her eyes. He's aware of her bitten nails, the numerous refills of coffee, and the fact he had to sleep alone in their bed the night before. He's unmoved and instead moves to place a kiss on her forehead. He hears her let out a deep breath before pulling away to look at her.

“You can’t force it, agapi. At this point, it’s not really healthy.”

"I'm sorry," she says and he sees how her eyes turn glassy.

“It’s okay, Hilal. You just need to take a break,” he assures and kisses her on the same spot. “You’re stressed and tired, so maybe a quick bite won’t hurt?”

She nods reluctantly and he holds out a hand to lead her to their kitchen. He knows that Hilal hasn't eaten anything substantial since last night and he's only seen her drink coffee once she sat down at her desk to write. He didn’t prepare anything too heavy for her, since she’d probably be more tired than hungry anyway.

There are two plates of pasta on the table.

“You haven’t eaten, yet?” she asks as he helps her into a chair.

“No, I wanted to eat with you,” he says.

“But it’s nearly midnight,” she points out. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to,” he simply shrugs and gets into a chair across from her. “We haven’t spent time together recently anyway.”

She sighs guiltily.

“Don’t worry about it, Hilal,” he says and reaches for her hand. “I know that you have a deadline and it’s been difficult. I’m glad I got to get you away from your laptop for this at least.”

Hilal squeezes his hands. She sniffs and he knows she’s stopping herself from crying. She’s sensitive that way, but he only finds it adorable. It’s one of the best things about her really: she’s passionate about her work, her principles and her feelings, but at the same time it tends to overwhelm her and decide for her. 

He remembers Hilal’s mother commenting at how much they balance each other out, and he’s again reminded of that at moments like these when Hilal’s passion runs her rugged, when Hilal needs reminding that stories need intermissions and her characters need breaks too.

He lifts her hand to his lips and encourages her to eat. He’s happy when her appetite finally catches up to her and she finishes the pasta faster than usual. She smiles sheepishly at the realization but Leon wordlessly hands her some bread when it’s clear she’s still hungry.

After dinner, they do the dishes together and Leon makes sure to squeeze in a few kisses. Hilal manages to smile and laugh when he does, and he’s grateful that she’s managed to forget about her work and the looming deadline over her head.

“It’s nearly 2,” Hilal comments once they finish drying the dishes.

“Yep,” he says and hugs her from behind to place a kiss on her hair. “That means you need to wash up and go to bed. No more work for the rest of the night, okay?”

He feels her nod and they walk towards their bathroom to start getting ready for bed.

One of Leon’s favorite moments with Hilal is when at the end of the day, she has to take her headscarf down to free her hair. Normally, Hilal doesn’t wear a headscarf inside the house when it’s just the two of them, but Hilal takes on a habit of putting it on when she’s put off washing her hair for days. She can get too focused on work and her other projects to care about her hair when she can just shove it inside a headscarf. But it makes no difference to Leon. He likes letting her hair down and doesn’t really care if it’s greasy from being unwashed or frizzy from the summer heat. Letting her hair down means that she’s letting herself relax and unwind, that she’s giving herself time to break away from the world and stay in their apartment with a book or a movie. It means that she’s going to spend time with her husband whether it be taking a nap together on the couch, or going out to town to go on small adventures.

It also means that Hilal is aware of how much he likes it when she lets her like this, and she likes to tease him about it when he can’t help himself from running his hands through her strands and playing with it.

(“Where’d you learn how to braid?” she asked once when he put her hair on a single fish-tail. She’s pulling it over her shoulder to examine it and he’s just smiling proudly at his work.

“I taught myself,” he said. “Remember when Samet didn’t want his hair cut and forced his sister to give him elaborate hairstyles instead?”

Hilal chuckled at the memory of Samet coming to visit with space buns. He was very proud of it. “Okay, did you practice on Samet?”

“Yep. I had to learn because Samet’s hairstyle got undone one time and Havva wasn’t there to fix it. I immediately went to Youtube for tutorials, and the little guy practiced with me. Samet and I are bonded for life now.” 

Hilal laughed and gave him a kiss for his efforts. “Thank you. You do my hair better than I do.”

“I still like it best when you just let it down like this,” he said and proceeded to unravel the braid.)

She takes a shower while he washes his face and brushes his teeth. She smiles at him when she steps out of the bathroom and he’s got the hair dryer out.

“Come on, you can’t go to sleep with wet hair,” he says and waits for Hilal to change into pajamas and sit on their bed.

Hilal’s hair is easy to dry. Unlike her parents and her older sister who had thick raven hair, Hilal inherited her grandmother’s thin chestnut brown. She did confess to him at one point how she used to be jealous of their dark hair since hers made her stand out in a bad way. It made her feel left out since everyone liked how luscious and rich their hair was, and most people just pointed out how different her hair had turned out with the rest of her family.

It didn’t matter how many people praised her blue eyes which she got from her father, or how people liked how strong-willed she is, she learned not to appreciate her hair as much and considered it her biggest flaw.

Of course, that changed over time and she learned how to like it and become confident with it. That’s probably also one of the reasons he likes seeing her without the headscarf.

Once her hair is dry enough, he places a kiss on her forehead and puts the dryer away.

It’s already 3 am when they finally get under the sheets of their bed, their heads on the pillows and facing each other.

“I’m sorry,” Hilal says again when the lights are closed and neither one wants to go to sleep just yet. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“I know,” he assures. “You don’t need to apologize for that. It’s my responsibility, after all, to look after you. Just let me.”

“Sometimes I wonder what I’ve done to deserve you. I don’t do half the things you do for me and yet you’re still here.”

He pulls her closer. “We chose each other, remember? And I’d have to disagree with you. You do plenty for me. The very fact you chose me over all men in the world is enough for me to stay.”

She chuckles. “You exaggerate.”

“Hmm. I love you and that’s why I stay.”

Hilal smiles and kisses him. “I love you. I don’t say it enough nor do I show it enough, but I do. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

Leon smiles and hugs her close. The best thing, his most favorite thing is this. At the end of the day, no matter how difficult it has been, no matter how tired or angry they both are, they forget everything besides the two of them and just be together.

The best thing is every moment they’re both assured that he’s hers and she’s his.

…

End.

…

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 3 chapter 10

It’s been a few weeks since Hilal left.

He hasn’t received any messages from her since that one time she texted him she got to land safely. She also did text him that she won’t be messaging a lot since she’ll be busy settling down. He understands, but that doesn’t make him miss her any less, and doesn’t make him think of her any less. In fact, it feels like he never goes an hour without thinking of her.

They haven’t talked about the kiss, and he hasn’t told anyone about it. Hell, he hasn’t completely processed it either if he were to be completely honest with himself. He keeps zoning out, reliving the moment in his head, and he’s not the only one who’s noticed it.

Ali Kemal is giving him shit over it and keeps making attempts to make Leon tell him. His co-workers at work keep asking if he’s okay or if he’s feeling sick.

(In a way, he is. He wants to slap himself for being this bad.)

The fall semester had just started and Leon is back on his cubicle. He’s busy updating himself on a few reading materials when Carrie drops by the faculty room. His initial thought was that Tevfik probably has another task for him until Carrie hands him an envelope. He sees a stamp from Greece and assumes it’s from his mother.

“Thank you, Carrie,” he smiles at her and she nods in acknowledgement.

He sets the reading material aside and looks at the envelope. It’s odd though, because there isn’t a return address on the envelope. Only his name and the school address are written there, but he recognizes the handwriting almost immediately.

He opens it and finds a postcard of a familiar picture of the Parthenon. He flips the card over and sees Hilal’s name in Greek.

Here’s your postcard. Now go call your mother, Telemachus.

--Hilal

Leon laughs. She’s in Athens and he should’ve seen that coming. Of course, she’s there. Why else would she be learning Greek? Why else was she so secretive about where she’s going? And oh, his mother has been quiet recently. She doesn’t text him as much to remind him to call. He’s willing to bet she knows that Hilal is there.

He takes the postcard with him when he leaves for a more private area. He does the math and he knows it’s relatively early in Athens still. He calls his mother and she answers the phone at the first ring as usual.

“Leonidas,” she greets with a tone so heavy with knowing.

“Mitéra,” he greets with the same tone. “Is Hilal with you?”

His mother laughs. “Of course, you only call if it’s about Hilal! I feel very loved, Leon!”

“Mitéra, you know I love you and I won’t have it any other way, but can you please pass the phone to Hilal if she’s there with you.”

“Of course she’s with me. I’m cooking her dinner since I haven’t done so for my own son in years.”

“Mitéra!” he borderline whines.

“Entáxei oraía!” his mother laughs and he hear her call out Hilal’s name. “I have to admit, my heart breaks a little that I’m not the only woman in your heart, kamari mou.”

“What are you talking about, Mitéra? I’m not the only man in your heart either!”

She only tuts and there’s silence for a while.

“Leon?”

Hilal.

It’s like breathing a fresh air hearing her voice again.

“You could’ve just told me you were going to Athens,” is the first thing he says.

She chuckles. Good God. How does she sound so perfect even through phone?

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You do realize I’m going over there the next free opportunity I get?”

“How horrible of you! You haven’t visited your mother in years and here you are thinking of visiting just because I’m here!”

“Okay, maybe I’ve been a bad son in that regard, but that’s not stopping me for flying there to see you. Both of you.”

There’s someone talking in the background and he bets it’s his mother. Hilal laughs. “Your mother told me to tell you that if you are staying, you better for a month or else she’s disowning you and adopting me instead.”

“That’s enough time to spend time with my two favorite people,” he says, already planning on how take a leave from work and what’s going to happen to his classes. “And there will be no disowning or adopting happening!” he says loudly, hopefully his mother can hear.

“Your mother just rolled her eyes,” Hilal adds with another laugh. “She just misses you.”

“And what about you? Do you miss me?”

Hilal chuckles. “You’re not getting an answer out of me.”

“That’s not fair, it’s an easy question.”

“Like I said, where’s the fun in that?”

“You don’t make it easy, do you?”

“Hmm, why don’t you come here and find out?”

He will.

 …

 End.

 …

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 3 chapter 9

Yildiz and Yakup both retire to their room a few minutes later, and Hilal and Leon are left in the living room. They’re siting beside each other on the sofa with a respectable distance between them. Surprisingly, Leon isn’t tired yet and he’s not ready to leave either. At the same time, he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome and readies to excuse himself.

“You can stay for a while,” Hilal says when Leon makes a move to stand up. “If you like,” she adds, probably realizing how demanding her initial tone sounded.

“You’re not tired?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Oddly enough, no. You’d think preparing for dinner and taking care of a hyperactive boy almost the whole day would tire me out, but I’m not.”

Leon chuckles. “Are you nervous?”

“Of leaving? Of going to an entirely different country? Maybe. Yes. But I’m not scared.”

He nods. “Of course, you’re not. It’ll take more than that to scare you, Hilal.”

Hilal rolls her eyes fondly. He’s going to miss seeing her do that. “Oh, I almost forgot something. Wait here,” he says and stands up to retrieve something from the hallway. His looks through the inner pockets of his coat and digs out a small but heavy parcel wrapped in recycled paper. When he returns to the living room, Hilal is still seated where she is.

“I figured this is just fitting as a parting gift,” he says as he sits closer beside her and hands her the parcel.

She looks at him curiously and gently takes the wrapper off the parcel. She laughs when she sees it’s a book. “You’re actually very sentimental, aren’t you?” she asks as she scans the cover of the hard bound book. It’s an old edition of Homer’s Odyssey in Greek.

“I wonder what message you’re trying to give me here this time,” she says, tucking the book close to her chest.

Leon laughs. “I took care of that this time. Just so there are no miscommunications or weird connotations, I wrote a message. Open it.”

She obeys and flips the book. He’s written a short message on one of the front pages. She smiles when she spots it and laughs when she reads it. “Thank you.”

Book 5, 177-179.

“No miscommunications, but you want me to hunt for the line and interpret it?” she questions.

He shrugs. “Well, I’m a philosophy professor, I don’t just tell you what it should mean. And besides, you’re the history expert here; I trust you not to read the quote out of context.”

She looks at the book and assess it, almost the same way she did when he gave her the Symposium.

“And,” he adds. “The best part is that you don’t have to wait thirteen years to tell me what you think about it.”

Hilal laughs. “Yes, I think that is the best part. I’ll definitely bug you and I don’t care if we’re at different time zones.”

He smiles when he thinks that she’s welcome to. “You know, you can just tell me where you’re going so I won’t bug you when we are at different time zones.”

She shakes her head. Despite all this, Hilal still doesn’t want to tell him where she’s going for her Masters. It’s been a question she adamantly refuses to answer the past few days. Leon doesn’t really mind though. She doesn’t have to tell him, and really, he doesn’t think it’ll make a difference.

“You’ll know when I send you a postcard,” she teases and he rolls his eyes.

“Well then, I hope you send one as soon as you land.” He stands up now and stretches a bit. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

“Let me walk you to the door,” she says and stands up.

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner. Tell Yildiz too. And it’s really nice to meet Yakup and Mehmet. Your brother is more adorable than what you’ve told me.”

“He really likes you, you know,” she says. “He just showed me and Yildiz the next book he wants you to teach him to read.”

He smiles at that. “You’re leaving for Istanbul the day after next?”

“Yes, I’ll be busy preparing for it tomorrow.”

“All right. I won’t keep you. But you’ll call when you’re at the airport, won’t you?”

Hilal nods. “Yes, but I’m sure Yildiz will be updating you by the hour anyway.”

He chuckles and puts on his coat. Hilal is still holding on to the book he gave her and that comforts him. She’s also holding the book with the hand that has the bracelet he bought her from the fair. “This is it then,” he sighs. “I’m going to miss you, Hilal.”

She smiles sadly. “I’m going to miss you too.”

He can’t help it and hugs her. They don’t part for a while, and Leon eventually lets go. Surprisingly, he doesn’t cry, nor does he have the urge to. But seeing Hilal look up sadly at him breaks him just a little. He’s surprised when she pulls him back just as he’s about to turn to leave.

“Hilal?”

He’s even more surprised when she raises herself on her toes to kiss him on the mouth. It’s short. Just a firm press of lips, but it’s enough to make Leon short circuit. She pulls away and looks at him to see his reaction.

“Hilal,” he breathes and leans down to make it easier for her this time. Their mouths slide perfectly this time and he can’t hear or feel anything besides the loud thudding of his heart against her chest, and the soft skin of her lips.

When they pull apart, he rests his forehead against hers. Fucking hell. He kissed her. She kissed him. What the hell just happened? Why now? They could’ve been doing this the whole time.

“Don’t overthink this,” she says, briefly sliding their lips together.

“Fuck,” he just says and hugs her. He snuggles against her neck. “This isn’t goodbye,” he says, repeating the words she told him days ago.

“This isn’t goodbye,” Hilal nods with a watery laugh.

He kisses her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and her lips because he can’t help himself. Hilal doesn’t push him away anyway and she lets him kiss her.

Pulling away and leaving seems so much harder than he’d thought it would be.

 …

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 2 chapter 4

It’s a Saturday, and for once Leon feels like he can enjoy the day without having to do any work. The summer term only lasts a couple months and he’s happy that it’s only a few weeks before it ends. He’s ahead on grading papers, and he’s already submitted the revised syllabi for checking. He decides to take walk around the city for a while, and perhaps find a good place to sit down, drink coffee, and read a book.

He dresses in comfortable clothes and leaves Ali Kemal in the apartment. His roommate had a late night on a case and only came home in the early hours of the morning.

He first gets coffee at his usual place, (the barista gets his order right this time) and walks around until he finishes his coffee. He visits a bookstore and browses through the new titles. The person who mans the counter always alerts him of new books that Leon might like to read. Leon has been visiting this place for ages since he moved into the city and by now the attendant knows the kind of books and textbooks he’s looking for.

He leaves the bookstore with a new book on classical feminism. (He doesn’t think about the fact that he has so many unread books at his own library at home. He’s started reading all of them, but he hasn’t gotten around completing them. He also doesn’t think about the books Hilal lent him, which he has finished reading and remains to be on his bedside table.)

He wants to head to one of his usual places to hang out when he hears his name being called somewhere. He looks around and is instead met with someone crashing into him, and arms wrapping around his torso.

“Leon! It really is you!”

The person lets him go and although it’s been more than a decade, he recognizes her immediately.

“Yildiz?!” he gasps as he takes in the matured features of the girl he used to do homework with on a kitchen table. Yildiz is taller but she still has to look up to meet his eyes. Her cheek bones more pronounced than before and her eyes are sharper in shape. Her dark brown hair is long and falls effortlessly wavy. He had thought she was pretty before, but now Yildiz has grown up to be a beautiful woman. He hugs her again and she laughs as she returns it.

“It’s been so long!” he says and lets go of her again just to ensure he isn’t dreaming. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

She laughs again. “I couldn’t believe it either, when Hilal told me she saw you again!” She turned around to pout at her sister who happens to be a few steps away, watching the reunion. “She’s a killjoy and wouldn’t tell me anything so I had to come here myself.”

That earns an indignant huff from Hilal who just crossed her arms at her sister. Leon chuckles. “If it’s any consolation, she wouldn’t tell me anything about you as well.”

“Unacceptable!” she gasps and looks at her sister with mild horror. “We’ll ratify that immediately. Since I am new to this city, you’re responsible to show me the best spots for coffee and tea.” She hooks her arm around Leon’s and begins to walk. “Come along, Hilal!”

Leon looks behind them to find Hilal following begrudgingly. He spares her an apologetic look. Apparently, Yildiz is as charismatic if ever, if not more so now.

He leads them to a café that he’s sure Yildiz would like. It’s a rose themed café that Eleni had him go with her at some point, and he remembers her remarking how it’s a good place to go on dates. She likes to think she was helpful, but Leon has never taken a girl out on a date in the café. The food and drinks were good, but it was way too flashy for his taste.

It’s just right for Yildiz who immediately marves at the flower-ladened interior. There are flowers hanging from the ceiling, cascading down like a natural curtain within the establishment. He catches Hilal looking in awe as well, no doubt she has never gone here before.

They sit at a table next to a big window where there was is view of a small rooftop garden.

Yildiz looks very satisfied with his choice and he’s happy to have obliged her. It was easy to make Yildiz smile, Hilal is a different case.

Yildiz orders a pot of hyacinth tea and a butterfly pea flower latter for Hilal who just accepts her fate. Leon isn’t afraid to order a matcha latte. But to be honest, he is slightly intimidated with the unknown drinks available and he just orders the most familiar thing there is. He has a suspicion that Hilal accepts the drink his sister ordered for her because she’s the same. Yildiz adds a plate of butter cookies.

“So,” Yildiz says once the waiter goes away with their order. “Hilal tells me you’re a professor now. She’s only told me that much.”

Leon nods, feeling a little embarrassed that Hilal talks about him even if a little. “Yes, I teach philosophy.”

Yildiz huffs amusingly. “That doesn’t surprise me a bit. You were always into your books, and reading all these weird and hard to read books. You never ran out of lines to quote me.”

“It paid off, I guess. I was supposed to go into Law, actually. That’s why I took philosophy.”

“Ooh, like Mr. Papadopoulos. How is he doing?”

“Yildiz,” Hilal warns gently.

“It’s fine,” he says this to Hilal who looks at him worriedly. “Baba passed away years ago.”

“That’s terrible!” Yildiz gasped. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! Why didn’t you tell me?” she says the last bit to Hilal.

“It’s okay, Yildiz,” Leon says to spare Hilal from answering. “Like I said, it happened years ago and we’re all doing okay now.”

“Poor Veronika!” Yildiz sighs. “Is she doing well?”

“Yes, she’s in Athens now and she calls every now and then. I did tell her about Hilal and she wishes you both well.”

Yildiz perks up at this. “Oh, you have to give me her number so I can call her myself! Yakup is sure to let me go to Athens if I ask him.”

“Yakup?” Leon questions.

“Yildiz’s husband,” Hilal answers for her sister. “He’s from the military. She met him through Baba.”

“And he’s the best!” Yildiz says and extends her hand towards Leon to show off her wedding band and her engagement ring. “We’ve been married for two years now and I’ve never been happier.”

Leon examines the ring out of courtesy and he has to say that the ring suits her. The engagement ring had a pretty big diamond. “That’s really great Yildiz. I hope he’s everything you dreamed about and more.”

Yildiz pinches his cheek. “Thank you. You’re as sweet as ever, Leon!”

Leon swats her hand away gently.

The waiter comes with their drinks not long after, and Yildiz moans at how good the servings were. She insists on switching drinks just to see how everything tastes and the café gets more of her approval as she takes a sip from both Leon’s and Hilal’s drinks.

Leon has to admit they were pretty tasty, although he still can’t reconcile the fact that the two drinks were flower-based.

Yildiz tells him more about their family and how they’ve been these past years. Cevdet and Azize were well and were staying in Izmir after they both retired. “And imagine, they stay there for a year and then the next thing we know, they tell us that Mama was pregnant. Hilal was 17 and I was 21 and we were going to have a brother!”

He watches Yildiz bring her phone out and she begins sharing him photos of their younger brother, Mehmet from when he was a baby to now that he’s seven. “He looks like a carbon copy of Azize,” he comments and coos at one particular photo where the boy is perched on Hilal’s lap with the biggest smile.

“He is!” Yildiz agrees and hides her phone away. “I wish you could have met him, he’s so energetic.”

“Stubborn too. He may look like Mama, but he’s as headstrong and playful as Baba,” Hilal adds.

Yildiz dominates the conversation as she tells him about meeting her husband at the hospital she works in. She tells him how he obviously tripped and fell on his already fractured arm even when her father was helping him stand. Leon liked seeing Yildiz this carefree and happy.

Even Hilal kind of looked amused watching her sister recall a few memories. It reminded him of back then when they’d have snacks together and Yildiz would recount the day’s event to either his mother or Madam Azize. Leon would add a few things and Hilal would only smile and agree when prompted.

Soon, Yildiz excuses herself for the bathroom and Leon is left with Hilal at the table. The table is suddenly silent without Yildiz to carry the conversation.

“Your sister never changed, has she?” he asks.

Hilal smiles softly, “I wouldn’t say that. She was overbearing and frankly quite annoying as a teenager. But ultimately, the good parts of her stayed.”

“That’s kind of you to say. I kind of thought that you didn’t like her back then,” Leon teases, remembering the way young Hilal would huff and groan at her older sister whenever she encouraged or pushed her into doing things.

“Clearly, you didn’t know me as well as you thought,” she remarks, playfully raising a brow.

He hums. “You wouldn’t talk to me even if I tried,” he says. “I think you hated me just a little.”

“I didn’t,” she says. “You were new. And I’ve never had someone like a brother figure before.”

“And now?”

“Hm?”

“Is that why you still won’t talk to me?”

She stops playing with the teaspoon she’s been preoccupied with for the last hour. “When have I ever not talked to you?”

He sighs. “You won’t talk to me at work just because you want to be professional. Stonewalling isn’t professional.”

“You’re one to talk,” she says. “You’ve been avoiding me lately.”

“I stopped annoying you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Professionalism?”

She glared up at him. “You were making me do those to annoy me?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“You’re a child,” she tells him. “You would deliberately give me more work just to get me to talk to you? How did you come up with that logic?”

“It’s stupid, I know. That’s why I stopped.”

“And then you don’t talk to me even when I was the one already approaching you?” she scoffs. “What do you want?”

Hilal is looking at him with frustration, her eyes an icy blue. He should be scared or at least embarrassed, but the answer is automatic.

It’s odd that he doesn’t have to think too long about the answer to that. The speed of the thought popping in his mind is enough to alert him of the weight of it, and he doesn’t really know how to carry it.

Her stare bears on him and he knows she’s not pleased with him. And yet he keeps thinking of how beautiful she is. Her eyes threaten to freeze him over and yet the answer to her question echoes in his mind.

You. I want you.

It isn’t her eyes that freeze him, it’s the realization that there were deeper feelings involved in his intentions towards Hilal. To someone who he has seen as a younger sister for the better part of his life. It’s the confusion that makes him question his own knowledge of himself. How has he not seen this before? How has he not seen the weight of her value to him? How has he not seen something so important, something so blatant?

Yildiz comes back and she notes the angry atmosphere. “What’s this? Hilal, what did you say again?”

Hilal frowns at her sister. “Why do you always think it’s my fault?”

“You have a penchant for trouble, dear sister,” Yildiz says. “And besides, Leon’s too polite to say anything offending.”

Hilal scoffs. “Then you won’t mind if leave now. I’m obviously causing trouble.”

“Hilal,” Yildiz groans. “Please. Can’t we just enjoy the afternoon?”

“I have things to do. I’ll see you back home, Yildiz,” Hilal says in finality and leaves.

Leon wants to go after her and probably apologize but Yildiz places a hand on his arm. “Leave her. She needs to cool off whenever she gets angry.”

“She’s developed a temper,” he comments.

Yildiz laughs. “Being left alone to help care for Mehmet for a few years will do that I guess.”

Leon nods. “She’s changed so much from being that shy girl I knew. It’s almost giving me whiplash.”

Yildiz pats his arm. “She has always had that temper; she was just more subdued whenever you were around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know,” she smiles teasingly. “Hilal is known to wear her heart on her sleeve.  She just has this horrible way of expressing every emotion through anger.”

She laughs when she sees his obvious confusion. “Of course, you don’t know. You never noticed it. But we did. Mama, Baba and me always teased her about it and she’d deny it even if it was so obvious.”

“Noticed what?”

Yildiz laughs again and reaches to pinch his cheek. “Hilal will kill me if I tell you, but I’m telling you anyway.” She excitedly leans towards him. “Hilal had a crush on you.”

Leon blinks and takes a few seconds to take in the revelation. Hilal had a crush on him? When they were kids?

Yildiz is certainly amused by this and Leon has forgotten how relentless she is in her teasing. Even when they were kids, she had him and Hilal on her streak.

“It was the cutest thing ever. Whenever she didn’t want to do something, I only had to tell her that you were coming along or that you’d be disappointed if she didn’t do it. She’d eat it right up and do anything. She was really happy whenever you’d read with her, and she wouldn’t stop carrying that book you gave her when we left.”

He honestly doesn’t know how to respond to that. Any other person would probably shrug, smile, and comment about how adorable a childhood crush is, but Leon is just reeling from the realization of his own feelings to properly react to the revelation of Hilal liking him back then.

It really isn’t good timing and it doesn’t do any good. But he tunes it out and listen to Yildiz anyway. She talks and he listens. She talks enough for the both of them, and she talks as if there wasn’t thirteen years separating them. He appreciates it really, because at least he can delay confronting his feelings for a while.

…

He walks Yildiz home and although she invites him in for a coffee, he declines (the thought of a cup of Turkish coffee makes him pause though). He doesn’t want to see Hilal at the moment, for the reason that he needs to figure himself out before seeing her. Who knows what kind of upheaval his mind and feelings will create when she’s so close yet so far away?

“Let’s do this again soon, Leon! And give my regards to your mother, okay?” Yildiz says as she walks up to the apartment she shares with her sister.

“Yes, I will,” he says and leaves too.

…

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 1 chapter 6

Leon has a plan.

For the rest of the week, he’s been trying to spark a conversation from Hilal. After the conversation they had near the Dean’s office, he hasn’t tried asking her to accompany him to coffee or a meal. Hilal was civil with him. She talked to him and answered his questions, when necessary, but beyond that she didn’t really give him the time of day.

Leon doubted it has something to do with her insistence for professionalism. Hell, he was invited to drinks during his first year with his co-workers, and there wasn’t a breach in professionalism the next day at work. No, there is something else that’s bothering Hilal, and Leon wants to know why.

Asking her point blank turns out to be useless, and even small talk between co-workers didn’t cut her standards.

No, Leon had to either give up or be creative. He’s never been known to give up…at least not that easily.

That’s why he needed a plan. That plan was inspired by no other than his scruffy roommate, Ali Kemal, who for once is home and not sleeping over at the precinct.

But of course, the first time Ali Kemal had to be home in more than a week would be when he decides to bring someone home without telling Leon first. Leon ended up going back outside the apartment once he saw more of his roommate than he wanted.

He rubbed at his eyes furiously, hoping to unsee his roommate bending a girl over the couch. The couch that they had agreed not to sully once they got it. (It was a very expensive couch.)

The door opened and Ali Kemal had the gall to laugh at Leon’s predicament.

“Hey there, sorry about that. I forgot to text you.”

“Fuck you, Ali Kemal,” Leon grumbled, not wanting to look at his roommate.

“You’re welcome to join in,” Ali Kemal laughed and Leon wanted to punch him.

“Leave him be, Ali Kemal,” a woman’s voice said from behind his roommate. Ali Kemal was pulled back inside and a woman with golden hair peeked out of the door.

“Sorry about that, Leon.”

“Eleni?!” Leon opened his eyes once he recognized that voice. He stood up to look at her. “Ali Kemal?”

Eleni laughed. She was wearing Ali Kemal’s shirt and Leon’s brain involuntarily summons the scene he had just witnessed. He did not need to know of the rose tattoo she had on her…side.

He had met Eleni during his undergrad years. She’s been in a few of his classes, and they especially bonded over their Spanish class. He had introduced her to Ali Kemal a few years ago, and they’d often talk behind Ali Kemal’s back in Spanish just to talk shit about him. The two liked to argue a lot. And if Leon had to be honest, he has been blatantly ignoring the underlying sexual tension those two were emanating.

“Desde cuándo?” he asked her in Spanish.

She hesitated and looked behind her shoulder where Ali Kemal was. “Hace un año.”

“Cómo? ¿Pensé que habías dicho que no era tu tipo?” he asked again.

“Él fue muy persuasivo.”

Leon groaned, unashamed at his immature expression of his frustration. “Look, I’m not going back in there for a few hours. So, you guys can continue whatever you’re doing and air the place out.”

He looked over Eleni’s shoulder. “And you! I thought we said that the couch was off-limits!”

“You said no sex on it, not over it!” Ali Kemal shouted back.

“That’s not what we agreed on, and you know it!” He huffed in frustration. “Hablaremos más tarde,” he said this to Eleni who was trying her best not to laugh at them.

“Okay, okay. We’ll talk later,” she said, already beginning to shut the door to his face.

“You guys are shameless; you should know that. Shameless!” He said before she shut the door completely.

He ended up staying at a café for a few hours, furiously typing at his laptop. He doesn’t want to admit it, but trying to burn a memory off worked as a good motivation to write. He practically got a good part accomplished.

He received a text message on his third cup of coffee that it was safe to go back. True enough, Ali Kemal and Eleni were dressed and all-sweet on the same couch they just defiled. There were a few lit scented candles, and Leon wondered where they came from.

The living room and the kitchen smelled like pumpkin spice. It was better than the alternative, really.

“Where did you get the candles?” he asked once he stepped inside.

“They’re the cheap kind they sell at the convenience store downstairs,” Eleni told him.

Leon hums and gets down to business. He has them explain themselves.

How could Leon have not noticed this for an entire year?

Apparently, those two have been sneaking around with an ‘arrangement’. They made sure not to do it at Leon and Ali Kemal’s apartment for obvious reasons. It just happened to be Leon’s bad luck that he caught them this one time they decided to do it there.

As they told him what was happening, Leon knew that their ‘arrangement’ would later blur into a relationship. Which it did, unsurprisingly.

Eleni went to bed earlier than the both of them and Leon looks at his roommate quizzically.

“If you’re going to give me the shovel talk, then save it. I know that you won’t do shit,” Ali Kemal said, waving him off.

“First of all, I’m not giving you the shovel talk because you know that Eleni can very well kick your ass if she wanted to. But if you hurt her, then I’ll castrate you in your sleep. Second of all, do I need to remind you that one time I completely obliterated you over that girl you were crushing on years ago?”

“Goddamn, that was years ago. Maybe we should have another round just to update your accuracy.”

“Seriously, though, you were never the one to be into relationships. You were never interested. She wasn’t interested in them either.”

Ali Kemal shrugged. “I don’t know either man. Maybe you just wake up one day and think how much you actually like spending time with a person. You annoy them to hell and back and for some reason she finds its charming. I guess, we’re just weird enough to find those attractive enough to be in a relationship.”

“And you two have been a thing, for how long?”

“A few months,” Ali Kemal shrugs.

“How the fuck did you get into a serious relationship before me?” Leon asked, laughing.

“You have pretty high standards, Papadopolous.”

Leon scoffs, “Eleni also has high standards for men, I just don’t know why she settle for less.”

“Fuck you,” Ali Kemal said, throwing a sock (a sock?) at him.

When Leon was lying in bed that night, he suddenly thought of what Ali Kemal said. Logically, he knows that annoying a person (a girl, no less) wasn’t the right way to have someone talk to him. It was childish and very much an Ali Kemal thing to do. He did try the Leon thing to do with minimal resorts. Maybe he should try getting on Hilal’s nerves.

After all, the biggest reactions he got from her were the negative expressions.

He doesn’t know why he has this sudden urge. Maybe because it’s still hard to reconcile the gril he knew before and the girl he sees now. He wants to know what happened between then and the now, and how she’s become strong enough to glare him down when she could barely look him in the eye all those years ago.

Maybe it’s because he realizes now that he missed her. He missed having a companion to talk to about books, to talk about what they thought about what was written on the page and in between the lines. He’s had people to talk in the past years. Hell, it’s what he does for a living. But it’s different when you want to talk about a book just for sake of sharing your thoughts than for the sake of debate and argument.

Hilal would argue, would ask questions, and would share her own thoughts (no matter how shy and unsure she was), and would just listen as if everything he has to say was as important as the books he read her. He wonders now if she’d be like that, if not more confident to argue with him.

He missed seeing her grow up. Now he doesn’t want to miss her becoming the brilliant person she is meant to be.

And so, Leon Papadopoulos has a plan.

…

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 3 chapter 8

Leon is already standing outside of Hilal and Yildiz’s apartment and he knocks after he decides that he’s presentable. (He actually stood outside their door for a good five minutes before knocking.)

The door is opened by Yildiz who smiles brightly at the sight of him.

“Leon! You made it!” she says and goes in for a hug.

“Of course. It might be another thirteen years before I see any of you again,” he jokes and Yildiz punches him playfully.

“Just try to do that and Hilal will hunt you across the world to teach you how to use a damn phone,” she says and he laughs because he doesn’t doubt that Hilal will do just that.

“I’m kidding, Yildiz,” he says and hugs her again.

“You better be!” she waves a finger and pushes the front door wider for them to enter.

There he meets Yildiz’s husband, Yakup, who’s a tall gangly man who holds up a hand for Leon to shake. His grip is firm and sure, which Leon expects from someone from the military. He remembers Yildiz as a young teenager and telling him about the man she’ll be marrying in the future. She had detailed descriptions of what he’d look like, what he does for a job, and what he’d be like. Even then, Leon knew it was impossible for Yildiz to find the exact man she was describing. But there was one thing for sure, Yildiz had a type, and Yakup didn’t seem to tick those boxes.

Nevertheless, as Yildiz introduced them, she looked at her husband with obvious adoration and pride. Yakup looks at her the same way, and it isn’t really hard to reimagine the story Yildiz told him about how she met her husband. They seem to complement each other very well.

It’s obvious that Yildiz didn’t find the person she was looking for, she found someone better.

He watches how they interact, how they look at each other, and how they easily shadow each other’s movements. There’s no denying that they’re in love.

He’s surprised when something bumps against his thigh and when he looks down, there’s a small child clinging onto his legs.

“Hi,” the child says, looking up at him with familiar blue eyes.

“Hello,” he greets. He has no doubt who this child is.

“This is Mehmet,” Yildiz introduces. “Our cutest little brother.” She says this as she ruffles his hair. The little boy smiles up his sister.

“I brought him with me from Izmir,” Yakup says. “He couldn’t wait to see Hilal.”

“I got to ride a plane!” Mehmet exclaims excitedly. He hasn’t let go of Leon’s leg yet.

“Mehmet, this is Leon,” Yildiz tells her brother. She crouched down to tell him this. “He’s a good friend of ours when we were kids.”

Mehmet finally steps away from Leon’s leg and holds out a chubby hand. “Hello Leon! I’m Mehmet! It’s very nice to meet you!”

The kid is so cute. Leon can’t help but bend down a little just to shake the little boy’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you too, Mehmet.”

“Will you be my friend too?” Mehmet asks him. “Hilal tells me all about you. You taught her how to read!”

Leon chuckles and can’t help but ruffle the boy’s hair. He already feels the giddiness forming inside him from being told that Hilal talks about him. “I did.”

“I know how to read now. Hilal taught me. Will you read to me?” the little boy asks and Leon melts at how familiarly sparkly Mehmet’s hopeful eyes look at him. He’s reminded of how Hilal used to look at him when they were younger.

“Sure, you can show me your favorite book later,” he says and already loves how big Mehmet smiles at him.

“Yildiz!” they hear Hilal call from the kitchen. There’s a little urgency to her voice but Yildiz just rolls her eyes. “I left her to look after the food for a while,” she says in lieu for an explanation.

Yakup picks his small brother-in-law and carries him into the living room under his arm. The little boy’s squeals follow after him. Leon follows Yildiz into the kitchen to see Hilal poking at something on a tray.

“It smells good in here,” he remarks and Hilal looks at him in surprise.

“You’re early,” she huffs and turns to her sister. “I don’t know if this is ready. You told me it’ll take five minutes more but I’m not convinced.”

Yildiz sighs at her checks the food herself. “I’ll handle the food here. You can show Leon around, I guess,” she says and basically shooing them both from the kitchen.

Hilal pouts but leaves anyway. Leon just laughs and follows her out.

“It did smell good in there,” he says as they make their way to the living room where Mehmet’s laughter could be heard.

She tuts. “Yildiz made the food, I was just on standby to make sure it didn’t burn. I’m not very helpful besides making coffee,” she says it with a shrug.

“To be fair, it’s pretty good coffee,” he smiles and she bumps her shoulder to his in gratitude.

They decide to join Yakup and Mehmet who are chasing each other across the room. Hilal immediately brightens at the sight of her younger brother laughing so freely. She immediately joins the chase and Mehmet lets out a very loud shout of joy when she tackles him with tickles.

It may be loud, but Leon doesn’t mind it because it’s the cutest thing he’s seen in a long while. Not to mention that Hilal looks even more carefree. He watches them play for a while until Yakup excuses himself to help his wife in the kitchen. Mehmet and Hilal end up sitting beside Leon on the couch: the little boy squished between them as he forces them to read to him a book about plants. (It’s his favorite book apparently. And he shoots Hilal a questioning stare when he learns it's one of the only books Mehmet knows how to read. Hilal just shrugs and mouths, “Symposium” at him and he doesn’t comment any further about the subject.)

There was a point in Leon’s life where he didn’t bother about children before. He only realized he wanted kids—a family—right after his father died. His cousin’s younger children all came for the funeral and he remembers how a great comfort they had been. Right after that, he found himself looking at children (and babies--BABIES) more fondly. His mother used to joke that his maternal (yes, she meant to say maternal deliberately) instinct was switched on.

He couldn’t even disagree with her because it was true. There was something inside him that made him want to have kids and the idea wasn’t as scary as it was before.

Naturally, this moment with Hilal and Mehmet is reminding him of that want. It’s making him think how he could see this moment being relived in some alternate future where the child between them is their own. He’s not really sure if that’s possible, but he likes the image in his head anyway.

(His wayward mind offers him a glimpse of Hilal being round with their child and he immediately shoos it away. It’s not really healthy for his mental state to be thinking of a future that may not happen. And it won’t do any good either if he randomly gets turned on with the idea of getting Hilal pregnant. With her being so close. And a literal child between them.)

Yildiz calls them for dinner and Hilal dutifully brings Mehmet to wash up. Leon helps set the table and soon they all gather to enjoy the food.

It’s as if Hilal isn’t leaving. Everyone jokes, tells stories, and recounts memories. Yakup particularly enjoys Leon’s anecdotes of what Yildiz was like when she was a kid, and laughs at the detailed recounting of what she hoped her husband would be like. Yildiz takes all that with a roll in the eyes and half-hearted slaps to her husband’s arm.

Dinner ends when Mehmet yawns and tells everyone he’s tired. Yildiz and Hilal tuck him to bed as the men are left to clean up the table. When the sisters return, the dishes have been washed and put away. Yildiz kisses her husband’s cheek in gratitude.

They all sit down on the sofa.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” Yildiz says with a sigh, petting her sister’s head. “Going to just one different country isn’t enough for you and now there’s no stopping you, is there?”

Hilal smiles. “It’s not forever, Yildiz.”

“It better not be. You keep going to places and don’t settle anywhere. I’d be much more willing to let you go if you’d call once in a while.”

Leon laughs softly. That sounds familiar.

Yildiz coos. “Aww, my baby sister!” she pulls Hilal into a hug.

“Yildiz!” Hilal protests and Leon can’t help but smile fondly at them. He always used to see them arguing or disagreeing on things. It’s nice to see a change in scenery once in a while. He looks and sees Yakup smiling at them too.

“We’re going to miss you so much!” Yildiz says and peppers some kisses on her sister’s face. “Won’t we, Leon?” she turns to him with a teasing smile.

Leon is caught a little off-guard but he just nods. “Yeah.”

Hilal gives him a smile when she manages to pull herself away from her sister.

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 3 chapter 6

There’s no need to report physically to the university and Leon is content staying at his apartment for the first few days, looking through emails from his students and providing them explanations for their recently published grades. He’s making himself a cup of coffee when he receives a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown: It’s Hilal. Where do you live?

He replies with: How did you get my number? And saves her number immediately.

Hilal 🌙: Yildiz. Now answer my question.

He scoffs and sends her his address. She only replies with a thumbs up, and Leon finds himself tidying up the apartment in preparation for her visit. It’s a good thing Ali Kemal isn’t here right now. If he were, he’d no doubt be teasing and be no fucking help.

(Leon also takes the time to change into a shirt that wasn’t an old ratty university hoodie, and to fix his hair. He keeps the sweatpants he’s already wearing though, because let’s be real; there’s no way he’s wearing jeans in the confines of his own home.)

This is the first time he’s heard from Hilal since walking her home to her apartment. He has taken some time to think over everything they’ve talked about that evening. He stood up almost the whole night just thinking about how right Hilal is. He also realizes how much power she has over him as her mere presence makes his mind and body scramble to get itself together. He doesn’t really think when she’s with him despite his habit of overthinking about almost everything about her. (The irony is that he thinks about her so much he doesn’t think about what she thinks and cares about their own situation.)

Despite the unexpected visit, Leon is pretty (see: relatively) calm about having to receive her in his apartment. He checks if the food and drinks they have in the cupboards are halal and makes sure there is another pair of slippers she could use when she comes over.

It’s also a good thing he had the mind to grab some pastries this morning for breakfast. He prepares what’s left on the plate and readies a few mugs. (He has a feeling Hilal would be bringing coffee. He likes to think he’s got a good reading to her patterns by now, but just in case, he has the coffee grinds next to the coffee machine. And if Hilal asks, it’s this new Turkish coffee he found online that Ali Kemal won’t stop teasing him for.)

He also wonders why she’s decided to come visit him in his apartment and not somewhere more neutral. He’s not sure entirely sure where they stand even if he agreed that he’d trust her and make more an effort in being friends with her.

But before his mind could go spiraling to another rabbit hole, he slaps himself out of it and waits for Hilal’s arrival. There’s a knock on the door fifteen minutes later and when he goes open it, he’s greeted with a big smile. Hilal also shoves a huge thermos into his hands. He smiles for being right.

“Hi,” he greets and steps aside to open the door a little wider. “I hope the place wasn’t hard to find?”

She shakes her head. “Not at all.” He slides the indoor slippers towards her which she accepts gratefully. He leads her deeper into the apartment.

“Before you think I’m a stereotypical man who doesn’t clean up, I’d like to put it on record that my mother raised me better than that and that I live with an absolute slob of a roommate,” he says. “And I did try to clean up just a bit.”

Hilal looks around and shrugs. “It’s not as messy as you think, and I came unannounced anyway.” She places her bag on the sofa. “You have a roommate?”

“Yeah. I didn’t actually tell you about him, did I?”

“No, you haven’t. I thought you lived alone.”

“I’ll just go get mugs for this. You can sit wherever,” he says as he places the thermos on the coffee table and goes to the kitchen for the snacks and the mugs. He returns and places all of them on the coffee table. Hilal smiles gratefully at him again.

“His name is Ali Kemal, and he’s a detective. He’s not home sometimes, but when he is, the place looks like an actual tornado went through it.”

She just nods.

“So what do I owe this visit?” he asks and hands her a mug. “Unexpected it may be, it’s no less welcome.” He takes the thermos to pour them coffee.

“Yildiz wanted to ask you to dinner with us in a few days,” she says after a sip. “Yakup will be flying over and she wants you to meet him. He’s also bringing Mehmet.”

He smiles. “That sounds nice. Sure, I’ll go. But Yildiz could’ve just told me all this through text.”

“Yeah. But I have some news as well,” she says and places the mug on the coffee table. “I was a little mean before, so I want to tell you before you hear it from others.”

He straightens.

“I might leave earlier than planned,” she says. “Professor Kim already found a potential replacement for me in the project,” she adds. “He’s an old student of the professor and he used to TA for him before. He knows a lot about the project already so I wouldn’t have to explain everything to him. I just need to turn over some files, and the rest I can help through video-call.”

“I think I have an idea who that is. Is it Spiros?”

She nods. “You know him?”

“Yeah, he was a graduate student when I started working in the university,” he says. “And you’re ready to leave then? You’ve got all your documents processed?”

“Yeah, apparently. Yildiz had some help getting them processed faster and I don’t know how she knows people to do that, but there’s that. All I need to do now is to fly back home just to finalize some things.”

“And when do you leave for that?”

“I booked a flight for next week,” she says. “The dinner with Yildiz and Yakup is actually her way of saying goodbye since I won’t be able to see her again when I fly out from there.”

“I see. So you’ll be seeing your parents too?”

“Yeah. I’ll be visiting them again for the holidays but they insisted I spend time with them before I leave.”

“Well, you can’t blame them. I’m sure they miss you.”

She just smiles.

“But you could’ve told me all this through the phone too,” he says. “Or via email, since it’s your favorite form of communication.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’d rather tell you in person. I think it’s what you deserve anyway.”

“I appreciate that,” he says. “Well,” he sighs. “Since you don’t have much time, is there anything you want to do in the city before you leave?”

She smiles.

...

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 3 chapter 5

The smell of barako hits his nose once he steps inside the café. It’s near closing time and there are still a few customers inside. He barely notices Hera cleaning a nearby table until she calls his name.

“Hey, Hera,” he greets.

“I’ll get you your usual,” she says, a little sympathetically. Leon guesses that he looks as disheveled as he feels. “You can go sit with Hilal over there.”

He turns around to see Hilal sitting at the table they sat on the first time they were here. She has her laptop open and she’s already looking at him.

“Thank you,” he nods at Hera and walks towards where Hilal is.

“Is it okay if I join you?” he asks.

Hilal nods and takes the seat on front of her. He silently watches Hilal close her laptop and fix her things to the side. There’s a cup of coffee next to her and he can see that she’s been here a while with how empty the cup is, and how much rolled tissue is scattered around it.

“Sorry about the mess,” Hilal says once she takes notice of Leon eyeing the balled-up tissue. He doesn’t say anything but lets her set the tissue aside.

“How was the meeting?” she asks. She doesn’t smile and she’s playing with another piece of tissue. Oh, she definitely knows that he knows and still she doesn’t say anything. So she did intend for him to find out like this.

He sighs. “The usual,” he says. “Boring but necessary.”

Hilal nods again and tears the tissue to thin strips. He bets she’s doing it unconsciously. If she’s this anxious then at least he’s assured she’s not as unbothered as he initially thought.

It’s Hera who brings his drink. She places a steaming cup of coffee and a glass of water for Hilal. “Don’t worry about paying this time, it’s on the house,” she says and smiles encouragingly at the both of them.

They mutter a thank you and they fall into a silence once Hera walks away.

The coffee does little to appease him, really. He’s taking a sip and he’s being reminded of the fact that there’s a possibility of not getting to drink Hilal’s coffee ever again. He doesn’t know he’s frowning not until Hilal points it out.

“Are you angry?”

He looks at her and she’s gauging him.

“So you’re leaving,” he says, finally acknowledging it. “I didn’t know your contract ends soon.”

“It’s actually not supposed to for the rest of the year,” Hilal admits and takes a sip of water. “I asked the dean if I could terminate it before the actual date.”

“Why?” It’s just one word, but it holds so much weight. The answer could be anything really.

She takes in a breath, as if trying to summon some courage to say whatever she needs to say. “I got into a Masters program,” she says, looking at him straight in the eye. “I got a full scholarship to a university in Europe and I’m supposed to start next semester.”

“You can’t hate me for this,” she says when he doesn’t say anything. The truth is that he’s not sure how to react. He wants to laugh because he overreacted. He wants to be happy for her because she finally found the suitable program for her post-graduate needs. He wants to be sad because it means that Hilal is leaving town and it means that he won’t get to see her for who knows how long. He also wants to be angry at himself for making Hilal think he’s displeased for her situation just because it means leaving. He also wants to be annoyed at Hilal for thinking he’d honestly get mad at her for achieving her dreams. Honestly, he’d have congratulated her if she told him.

He laughs quietly instead. “I don’t.”

“You’re upset I didn’t tell you.”

“Yes,” he admits and sighs. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me first. But that’s not my business,” he says with a small smile.  “You do whatever you want and I’ll be happy for you.”

She blinks at him and doesn’t say anything. Whatever she’s expecting for him to say, Leon realizes this isn’t it. He’s a little sad that she must have expected him to react badly to this and for what reason, he doesn’t know.

“Remember when you were a kid,” he says. “You used to say you wanted to travel the world? That’s why you carried books around even before you learned how to read. You said it’s because there was a little bit of the world in those books and you couldn’t wait to read about them. You said that until you grew old enough to fly a plane, you’d read.” He chuckles at the memory of Hilal answering why she liked books even she didn’t know how to read just yet. “That’s why I agreed to teach you when your parents asked. Who was I to decline a little girl’s dream? And who am I, now, to be angry at you finalizing that?”

He looks at her straight in the eyes and tries not to melt at the way her lips purses in a small pout, her eyebrows curved. He does see how her glassy her eyes are. “You were meant for great things, Hilal. I didn’t need to see you again after thirteen years to confirm it and I don’t need to stick around for another thirteen years to see you become the woman that you are. You’re doing great without me and I acknowledge that. I just hoped that you’d give me better credit than thinking I could hate you for doing exactly what you were meant to do.”

The tissue she’s been fiddling with is in tiny shreds. “I’m sorry,” she says after a few beats of silence.

“Me too,” he chuckles sadly. “When do you leave?”

She looks at him, trying to gauge him again. “In a month. Yildiz is helping me sort my documents while I assist in looking for my replacement at the college.”

He nods. “All right.” He doesn’t ask how long she’s known she got accepted. It must have been a while if she was able give notice to the dean. He doesn’t want to know the answer anyway. He doesn’t want to know if getting into the program had anything to do with her recent warm behavior towards him. He doesn’t want to look into those last memories of her (for until the next time they see each other again at least) to be tainted with resentment. So he doesn’t ask. For once, he doesn’t want to know the answers.

He finishes his coffee and stands up. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Hilal doesn’t argue and begins to pack her things into her laptop bag. They said goodbyes to Hera and silently exits the café.

The walk to Hilal’s apartment isn’t the comfortable silence from the last time. This one is fragile. Leon keeps his hands deep in the pockets of his coat, and Hilal grips the strap of her laptop bag. There is no bumping of elbows and shoulders, just a short space between them.

Somehow that’s how their entire relationship has been. Unstable. Uncertain. Always a space in between whether that be time, literal distance, or walls they themselves put up. Leon wants to laugh. A hopeless love indeed.

They reach the front of Hilal’s apartment and Leon waits if there’s anything else that needs to be said.

“You,” Hilal says and stops herself. She clears her throat and meets his eyes. “This isn’t goodbye.” Her voice cracks in the end and she takes in a deep breath to compose herself. “I won’t let it. Whatever you’re thinking, this isn’t goodbye.”

She takes a step closer to him. She’s so much shorter than him, but she still manages to stare him down and shake him. “You’re acting as if I’ll just leave and forget everything. You think I’ve misjudged you, well you’ve misjudged me too. I thought that you were a person who’d make an effort not to let a relationship or a friendship dwindle away just like that. You think I’m a person who’d let you do just that.”

She takes a deep breath. “We’ve both been stuck in the past. We don’t trust the person we’re seeing now despite knowing them when they were younger. But shouldn’t we owe it to the person we knew before to give it a try this time? Shouldn’t I trust you to care just because you do? And shouldn’t you trust me to care just as much as you do?”

She takes another step closer and she has to tilt her head at a high angle just to keep looking at his eyes. “I won’t let this be a goodbye, Leon. Not when I just found you again.”

Her words bring some warmth to his chest and he has never felt a stronger urge to just kiss her. He wants to lean down just so she wouldn’t have a hard time looking into his eyes. He wants to smile and tell her how relieved he is that she doesn’t want to separate on such terms. He wants to tell her how happy he is that she’s finally admitting she’s missed him all these years.

He doesn’t do all those things though. He just focuses on the bright flush on Hilal’s cheeks and is defiantly still looking up at him. He smiles at her and draws her into a hug.

She tucks her head against his chest and hesitantly hugs him back.

“Okay, Hilal.”

She nods and they stay like that until they hear Yildiz teasing them from their window.

Hilal looks angry and embarrassed as she pulls away.

“I’ll see you,” is all she says before entering the building.

He waves at Yildiz and goes home as well.

…

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 3 chapter 4

It doesn’t last very long.

Leon can’t say he’s surprised when he’s felt that there was an impermanence to those mornings with Hilal. What is unexpected is how it ends.

There’s another faculty meeting at the last week of the summer term and Tevfik has the faculty members sitting with their shitty coffee in the board room. It’s a Friday and Leon has been wanting to go home since the moment he stepped in the campus (which was literally just 15 minutes ago. He hadn’t planned to go to the university that day, and Hilal had already informed him through email that she wouldn’t be there either).

“I’d like to commend everyone on their hard work this summer term,” Tevfik starts the meeting and smiles at everyone. “I’d especially like to commend the History and Philosophy Department for taking in some extra work since Professor Kalde’s unexpected medical leave.”

Tevfik nods gratefully at Leon’s direction, and Leon feels a little appeased by that. It’s good to know his hard work has been noticed, even if it’s from Tevfik.

“Now, this isn’t going to take a while since I know everyone is impatient to spend the next free days without work. The first semester will be starting in two weeks and I know we all want to regain a little bit of our sanity before then.”

There are a few chuckles around the room before Tevfik continues. He goes on for the next thirty minutes or so discussing some of the school year’s highlights. The New Master’s program they were planning on launching was going along great and just had to be handed over the Board of Regents for final decisions. The college faculty has been able to produce more publications than the previous school year. The graduation rate has been better, etc. etc.

“And lastly, Professor Kim has informed me that Hilal will be leaving us by the end of the month and we’ll be hiring a replacement for the project she’s working on. So, if anyone else needs a TA or an RA, please let me know so we can release a notice.”

It takes a few minutes for Leon to comprehend what was just said. Even as Tevfik and the other faculty members talk about quick matters before the meeting ends, Leon is reeling in the unexpected news. Hilal isn’t going to be working in the project anymore, so she won’t be working at the college anymore either. He doesn’t know the details of her contract anyway so that piece of news doesn’t bother him. What does is the fact that Hilal never said anything to him about it.

Has she intended to leave just like that without telling him? Leaving him to wonder what happened and to learn the news from other people in the faculty?

Is she leaving the college, or she leaving town?

He’s overthinking this again. Leon knows he can’t be angry or hurt about this revelation. Hilal owes him nothing. She can leave the same way she reentered his life and she’ll never know the huge gaping hole she’ll be leaving behind.

But the thing is that he is hurt and a little angry. He’s also a little hopeful that she did plan to tell him, that she isn’t completely leaving.

He tunes out the rest of the meeting and goes home in a daze. Thankfully, Ali Kemal isn’t home so Leon can sulk all he wants. He almost thinks of calling his mother again, but knows that he can’t keep going to her every time he feels too much.

So, like every other time he needs a break, he goes out on a walk.

…

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 3 chapter 3

He doesn’t know what pushes himself to stop by the café he usually gets his coffee in the morning. Their coffee machine is working perfectly for once and he’s had a pretty decent cup (he tries not to be too disappointed at how lackluster it tastes compared to Hilal’s coffee). It’s only when he’s outside his apartment building and spots the café that he decides to delay going to school and get something.

He sees the pastries lined up in the café’s display cabinet and gets some of the croissants. He’s glad that he did because once he enters the faculty room, Hilal is waiting by his desk with a cup of coffee.

“Hello, Hilal!” he greets.

“Good morning!” she greets back. “I have a Hilal special house blend for you,” she smiles at him so magnificently he forgets to breathe for a moment. He returns her smile and lifts the bag of croissants. “Good timing, I have croissants.”

He gestures for her to sit down on the chair he usually reserves for students. “I don’t have a class this morning, but I still have some papers to grade.”

“That’s alright. I wasn’t supposed to come in today but Professor Kim told me to meet him this morning. But as you can see,” she says motioning to Kim’s unoccupied cubicle. “He’s not here yet.”

“Did he tell you what time he’s meeting you?”

She checks her watch. “He told me to meet him by nine. It’s fifteen minutes past that. I’ve been here for thirty minutes.”

“Well, you can wait here if you want. Though, I won’t be much company.” He gestures towards the short stack of papers sitting on the edge of his desk. “But you also don’t need to stay here.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just finish these and annoy you with my munching,” she says, opening the bag of croissants.

He smiles. Whatever happened to her insistence on professionalism? Whatever it is, he’s not complaining.

“You’re more than welcome to,” he says and takes a seat. Hilal places his coffee at a reachable distance and is careful not to take up more space than necessary. Contrary to what she just said, she takes a book out of her bag.

“What subject is that for?” she asks, pertaining to the papers he’s started reading.

“It’s the elective class on Aristotelian Ethics,” he answers. “The final requirement is a comparative paper.” He takes a sip of the coffee and he almost moans in delight. “Seriously, what do you put in these that make it so good?”

“It’s a family secret,” she says with a proud smile.

“I’m asking Yildiz once I see her next,” he decides when it’s clear she won’t say anything more about it. He pushes the croissants towards Hilal instead. “Eat this while it’s warm.”

For a while, they stay inside a small bubble shared between Leon and Hilal. They spend the next hour just reading, sipping on coffee and munching on croissants. Once in a while, Leon would read a sentence or a passage out loud just to see if they understood the same thing and Hilal would ask about a word’s meaning from her book (apparently, she’s reading a book in Greek and something inside Leon melts at the thought of her learning his native language).

The bubble bursts when Kim finally enters the faculty with apologies to Hilal for being late. The professor lived far away from the town center where the university is located. He got stuck in horrible traffic and decided to get some yuan yang for Hilal just to make up for making her wait.

The coffee she made and the croissants he bought have long been finished, and Leon volunteers to clean up just so she can attend to their meeting. He’s nearly finished grading the papers anyway so a little break won’t hurt.

Hilal joins Kim in his cubicle, where they stay for an hour or so.

Surprisingly, that’s how their mornings go for the week even if Hilal doesn’t have to be in the office in the mornings. She’d be at his cubicle with coffee and he’d arrive with pastries. They’d either sit at the small table at the pantry space or just sit at his cubicle, talking and exchanging ideas even if they didn’t have to do their own things separately. It’s a joy to find out that Hilal has read a lot of what’s deemed to be classics in Philosophy, and Leon hasn’t had a lot of fun discussing them in a while. It’s way different than how it had been during the first months and Leon wonders how long that arrangement will last.

…

[punkchestnuts]

the product of immense work, part 3 chapter 2

They leave the café a few hours later and it’s already dark outside. Hera, as well as Mábel sent them off with a box of rice cakes each. It’s one of their specialties and Leon can’t help feel offended because he’s never received any freebies from the couple. On top of it all, Mábel makes Hilal promise to visit again, but she stresses that she should without Leon in tow.

“They definitely like you more,” Leon says as they start walking towards Hilal and Yildiz’s apartment. It’s convenient to find that they live a few blocks away.

Hilal laughs. “It’s not a big deal. You’re not sulking, are you?”

“Of course, I am! I’ve been their customer for literal years and they never gave me a free box of anything. And may I remind you, their rice cakes are their specialties. I bring you in there the first time and they decide to give me box if only to thank me for bringing you there.”

She rolls her eyes with amusement. “I take it back; you are a child if you’re this worked up over this small thing.”

“Hilal! How could you not understand my predicament?”

“Can’t you just be thankful that you have a box of dessert?”

He huffs. “You like them more than me too.”

“Seriously, Leon,” she shakes her head. “You’re literally the one who used to babysit me. If you’re so sad about it then you can have my box.”

She’s already pushing the box she’s holding towards him but he smiles and shakes his head.

“Nah,” Leon finally relents. “Fine, I shall act my age and be more like Professor Kim. You like hanging out with older men anyway.”

“You’re insufferable, I swear, Leon. And besides, you’re older too.”

He laughs. “Alright, sorry.” Leon turns to look at her. “I never got to say this, but it’s really good to see you again, Hilal.”

She chuckles. “Is this the part where you get all sappy?”

He exhales with exasperation. “Why do you like making fun of me? Please take me seriously.”

Hilal laughs fully. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

He shakes his head. “No, you ruined it.”

“Too bad. I was just going to say that it’s nice to see you again too,” she says.

Leon lets out an exhale. “You’re just as insufferable, you know that?”

Hilal just shrugs and he shakes his head in disbelief.

They continue walking in comfortable silence, their elbows bumping occasionally. This continues until they finally get to Hilal’s apartment building. They stop at the entrance and Hilal doesn’t make a move to go in just yet.

“So, this is nice,” he says. “Thank you for inviting me for coffee.” He turns to look at her and she’s already smiling at him.

“Thank you again for bringing me to that café. It’s a really nice place.” Hilal lifts the small box of rice cakes. “I’ll enjoy these too. Especially since you’ve been making a big fuss about not getting any until now.”

He chuckles. “I’m not overstating how good they are. But share those with Yildiz, I’m sure she’ll like them as well.”

“I don’t have a choice; she’ll grab the box before I make a move to take my shoes off.”

He chuckles again. “Well,” he clears his throat. “I guess I’ll see you around at work?”

Hilal nods. “Take care going home.” He watches her go up her building before taking his own leave.

Leon takes the longer route home and can’t shake the smile on his face although he’s well aware of how goofy he looks. Ali Kemal frowns so hard that it’s hilarious.

“I’m guessing you talked to your girl?” his roommate inquires.

“Not my girl. But yes, I did talk to her.” He places the box of rice cakes from the café on the kitchen island. Ali Kemal immediately opens the box to grab a cake wrapped in banana leaf. (Leon has bought some goodies to take home before and Ali Kemal found a new love for Filipino desserts.)

“So, are you guys a thing or what?” Ali Kemal asks again, taking a big bite from the puto bumbong and scattering coconut and sugar over the island top.

Leon shakes his head at his roommate and grabs a plate from the cupboard. He slides it in front of him. “Nope.”

“Then why are you so happy for? Did you guys decide to get married instead?” Ali Kemal finishes the first cake and grabs for another.

Leon gives his roommate a look. “Really?”

His roommate just shrugs and opens the rice cake. “What else am I supposed to think when you looked like a kicked puppy just recently?”

Leon sighs and grabs one of the cakes before his roommate eats all of them. “We talked, but I didn’t tell her my feelings. It’s not really convenient anyway.”

Ali Kemal frowns in confusion again. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you’re smiling like someone whose feelings are reciprocated.”

“I don’t know. I know I should feel a little depressed about it, but I’m just happy I got to spend time with her.”

Ali Kemal’s face scrunches in disgust and throws the banana leaf more forcefully than intended at the counter. “You’re so whipped, it’s disturbing. I don’t know what’s worse: you being all sad and pining or you being sappy and in love.”

“Says the man who recently just asked me advice on how to plan a dinner date with his girlfriend.”

“You have your uses as a hopeless romantic, I got to give you that.” Ali Kemal crosses his arms. “But do you really see yourself living like this? In love and okay with the fact that you just disregarded your feelings just because they’re ‘not convenient’?”

Leon sighs again. “I don’t know, Ali Kemal. Right now, I’m content as is and Hilal seems so too. After all, even if she does have the same feelings for me, I doubt she’d be willing to admit it. Despite everything, her faith is important to her.”

Ali Kemal groans. “You have a unique taste in girls, you know that?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, let me enlighten you. You have a thing for girls that are unattainable, or at least with girls who’s interests conflict with yours so badly it always spells the end of your relationship. The first girl you fell in love with didn’t and doesn’t want to have a family besides the fact that you do. The last serious girlfriend you had turned out to be lesbian and left you for another woman. And now you’re in love with a Muslim girl who’s not allowed to be in a relationship with someone of a different faith. Why can’t you just fall in love with an average, mediocre girl to make your life easier for once?”

“Dude, as if I had a choice in that!”

“Of course, you don’t, but seriously, you’re making me frustrated for you because you make your life more complicated than it should be. You talk about convenience, when you deserve to be happy too!”

“Woah there, are you going to cry?”

“Fuck you. All I’m saying is that you’re a total idiot and that religion shouldn’t be a reason not to love. Aren’t you the one who keeps saying that all the major religions in the world is essentially based on love? And seriously, convenience shouldn’t even be considered in love. It’s not something you should decide anyway.”

Leon laughs. “Ali Kemal. I think you can leave being a detective and be a professor instead.”

His roommate groans again in exasperation. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Thanks for the cakes.”

“Sure thing.”

…