Stockholm or Love?

Muqeet's POV

I felt the twinge of sympathy bloom into empathy as I felt understanding for what he felt wash over me, I knew better than anyone did how dumb it was to want the approval of someone who doesn't care about you in the least.

I never could comprehend why we subjected ourselves to one sided admiration, hoping for something that was so far away it seemed nearly impossible. But still persevering through the bittersweet feelings it incited in us, waiting patiently for a miracle to happen. I often wondered if we were being masochistic or if this was nature's way of showing us that not everyone can have what they wanted.

"Why do you continue to subject yourself to this pain?" I asked almost angrily, just almost though because no matter what I couldn't blame him for holding on to that little bit of hope. "why don't you let go of those shadows of your past? Why do you let her memory still weigh you down?"

His gaze turned towards me as he regarded me intently, as if thinking through what I had just said "She isn't weighing me down at all far from it. Her memory fuels me when I feel weak, almost as if she were a competition for me that I had to surpass."

I stayed silent as I watched a faint smile form on his face, it's serenity almost unnerving.

He trained his eyes at the ceiling, seeing something there that I couldn't "I want to get her approval. I want to show her that I have changed from that cowardly kid that I was all those years ago, to tell her that she helped me and that I admire her grit and resolve and just sheer determination even when she was starving. She didn't give up even on the brink of death and that makes me admire her even more."

I nodded my head silently, showing him that I wasn't going to mock him for feeling all that he was. I just hoped that this was the last time he met her, because I didn't want him to remember all those bad memories over and over again.

He was smiling now, his eyes were glazed over as if he were reminiscing a good memory. "You know Yeet, she wouldn't have asked me to help her even if she were dying despite being as starved as she was. I still remember it in vivid detail, how her lips were parched, literally white and even back then I was sure that she'd have rather allowed herself to be buried under snow than ask anyone for help."

What he described with such reverence as a great feat of bravery sounded like plain dumbfrickery, who would rather die than ask for help? Someone who didn't value both their family and those who cared for them, It might be a thing of admiration to Altamash but for me it was something that reminded me exactly how important it was to accept help from those around you and not let the circumstances in life pull you under.

"I know Altamash, I also know that you had given her a can of cola and that she had smiled at you and even in the freezing cold she looked like she was glowing to you. I know it all by heart, you've might have ,mentioned that- hmm let me see" I rubbed my chin in mock thoughtfulness before turning towards him and glaring "A couple hundred times."

He had the grace to appear contrite "Ah yeah, I'm sorry I got carried away."

"To me, it always looked like you were the one who had saved her from dying of dehydration and frostbite." I trained my eyes towards the open books spread across the table, the papers gently flapping in the breeze "and I think she would remember it that way as well. You Altamash, are her saviour."

He smiled wistfully at me as he pinched the bridge of his nose "well if she did remember me, she didn't show any signs of recognising me. I really wish she did though."

I shook my head, pushing back the hair that had fallen on my forehead "Mate, I honestly think you're in some deluded sort of love with the woman, since she met you when you were at your lowest. I'm pretty sure there's some high winded psychological explanation for it."

I chewed on my bottom lip as I tried to understand what ailment my best friend might have been afflicted with "Is it Stockholm Syndrome?"

"Nope, no chance. Neither of us was kidnapped or tortured, we'd run away."

"Hmm, alright then delusion of grandeur but in reverse?"

"I severely doubt anything of that sort exists."

"Then maybe it is the affliction that has plagued mankind for millennia, lovesickness."

"Good lord! How many times do I have to repeat that it is not love, nor is it attraction. Do you think I would be as dense as to not be able to understand when I am attracted to a certain person?"

Watching me nod my head, he groaned in irritation before scooting closer to me with the look that a coding teacher had on his face when he was determined to explain to his dumb student that there was logic behind the zeroes and one and they actually translated into a complete language "What I feel towards her is just respect. I wish you understood that. Seems like you are the fool who is romanticising things this time." He gave me a challenging smile which forced me to mod my head.

For some reason his words seemed to soothe a deep-seated conflict within me.

Respect. Yes that is all it was. God I was such a hypocrite to let his anguish justify what I felt myself.

A silence heavy with unspoken words and lingering thoughts seemed to settle upon us. The sun was now a bright beacon in the sky, blinding away any traces of clouds with its light. The blue sky made me wonder if the storm that had blown away all our lives askew was just a horrible imagination of mine. It made me want to think that whatever happened yesterday was merely a figment of my restless thoughts but I knew that it wasn't the case.

Taking a deep sigh I pushed myself up, walking towards Altamash's overly tidy refrigerator "What in sweet heavens is going on with your fridge mate?"

Altamash raised a calm eyebrow, a picture of cool unaffectedness that contrasted starkly with my strong reaction to the mess that was his refrigerator. The glint in his weirdly yellowish eyes made me feel as if I was the one who was being weird here, when it was actually the other way around.

Gosh this punk irritated me. How could he pack so much condescension in one move of his arrogant little face? Regarding him for a second I shook my head to myself, his face was not little by any means but he did look like the most unpleasant bugger with that expression on.

Taking a long sip of his diabetes in a cup that was sure to kill him by the age of thirty he deigned to give me a reply, his voice back to normal as if he wasn't weeping to me just minutes ago about some random bird he had 'respect' for.

"What's wrong with my fridge?"

"Why does it not have anything edible in there? You just have a ton of cola and some green ass shite filled in there." I couldn't take my eyes off the colour coded appallingly neat fridge, filled with all sorts of vegetables in the spectrum of green and some annoying orange added in it to make it even uglier.

Sitting up straight he pushed aside a vase to place his empty cup of coffee on the table that was cluttered with his annoying books filled with sappy romance before looking at me and giving me a grin so bright that made me wonder if the show of sadness just minutes ago was some sort of elaborate act of his.

"That Yeet is what is considered normal food for most normal humans." Placing his stretched legs upon the coffee table that was already overflowing with clutter he continued "Not everyone prefers to eat stuff drenched in oil and fat to survive, it's a wonder that you are still able to get through those doors with the amount of crap you put into your body."

Deciding that I'll have to resort to making pancakes to soothe the burning hunger in my stomach, I reached towards the flour looking behind at Altamash as I poured it into a bowl. "Well what can I say, I'm just built differently. I bet I'm a lot fitter than you are even with all that grass and dead plants you eat."

He shrugged as he walked towards me not deigning to reply to what I just said, smug arse. If we were to brawl I was sure I was considerably better at him but he could outrun me anytime which I disliked but hey you couldn't be perfect everything all the time.

I'd long conceded to the fact that doing that was impossible, even for someone as amazing as me.