14.

                                    

                                          
Farjaad's night was chaotic. For a man who had not stayed awake past one in the morning in the last few years, he could not stop shuffling in his bed even when the clock stirked three. 
He kept reaching for his cheek, running his fingers over the exact spot where her lips were, smiling to himself, sighing, the adrenaline coming again and he was twisting around.
It came to a point where Coco have him a hard look before jumping off of the bed and going to sit on the single couch in the corner, so he could sleep peacefully without the constant earthquakes. 
The morning came before he even realised, a few hours into his sleep and he was woken up by aggressive ringing of his bell and phone. The kind of ringing that would make him want to scream at whoever was on the other side of the door.
To his misfortune, it was someone who was never affected by his screaming. It was Yusuf, walking in with a big smile on his face like he had entered a hotel, both hands on his hips, a flower pattern shirt. Farjaad wanted to smack him.
"Namak kam hai." Farjaad mumbled as he took a bite of the omelette, irritated and sleep deprived. After an occasion as good as the one he experienced the night before, he would have appreciated waking up with full hours of sleep and a smile. 
"Tumhara demagh khraab hai." Yuauf answered. The omelette was just fine, it was Farjaad who was too salty. Yusuf rolled his eyes, of course he would find simpler things like omelette bland. He was about to taunt him when he noticed a dark pink paper-like object in Farjaad's hair. "Ye kya laga hua hai?" Farjaad's fork hit the plate.
"Kahan- kya? Kuch nahi laga hua kya bol rahe ho?" He began rubbing his cheek violently, looking at his fingers, there was nothing. He washed his face, there was no possibility there was a stain. Her lipgloss was faint.
Yusuf furrowed his eyebrows.
"Mun kyun mal rahe ho? Yaar baalon mein hai. It's a... petal?" He reached out, pulling away the single folded petal. It was indeed a petal. And not the one from his flower, but one from her gajras. How it ended up in his hair? He wondered.  "Tumhe kisne phool diye?" Yusuf snorted. 
It was meant to be a lighthearted taunt. Yusuf was aware that Farjaad had been out yesterday, it was likely it somehow ended up on him. Yet Farjaad took it to heart.
"Kisi ne nahi tobah karo."  He spoke in all seriousness, reaching out to take a big gulp of coffee. Composure was never an issue for him, he wondered why he was struggling to handle himself.
"Tou ye kahan se aaya hai?" Yusuf, once again not finding the conversation to be as serious as Farjaad did, asking the question just to make conversation. He knew his friend enough, Farjaad's personality was nothing of the sort that would buy flowers, or secretly see people. Yusuf would rather believe that sheep can fly before believing his friend would have secret affairs or even be the sort to partake in valentines day activities.
"Yaar, wo mein, ghar ke liye laaya tha, kal kaafi mil rahe thay, but koi vase nahi mila. Coco le kar bed par aaya hoye ga." Farjaad gave a proper, constructed answer that had valid reasoning, He just prayed that Yusuf didn't ask to see the flower, since the colour of the petal did not match the darker roses.
"Itne hile huay kyun ho?" Yusuf wondered. Irritation was a valid reason. Yet irritated Farjaad would never be so... reason-giving. Yusuf expected a million shut-up calls and short snappy answers. The long reasonings were unnecessary. The other factor was that Farjaad was quite a morning person, his attitude was always work-related rather than a change in routine. So him being all cranky for no reason was unlike him.
"Tum aik to subah subah aaye ho mujhe neend se uthna para darwaza kholne, meri neend kharaab kar hi phir mere kitchen ka kabara kar diya aur ab mujhse sawaal par sawaal pooche jaa rahe ho? Valentines day khatam ho gaya hai mere bhai zameen par aao waapas." Farjaad snapped, stabbing his fork into the omelette.