Part 20: The curtains come down...

Present day, in the room to the left...

Sarfaraz and Aabhan faced each other awkwardly. 

"Are we sharing the bed-" Sarafaraz began.

Things had been quick after Mehar showed Samael the picture. It was blatantly obvious who the man was. They checked if the art gallery was open and realised it wasn't. When Sarfraz was about to get started on tracking down where its owner lived, Mehar stopped him, she wanted to ask her superiors if she was taking up this case or not. Mehar found out that the dancer in the photo and the owner of the gallery had seemed fairly keep on the photographer contacting the hotel, which meant this was a message, an invitation. It also meant that Kanimozhi wouldn't be running off. If they had time they should use it well, Mehar had announced, taking charge of Samael's safety and assigning Aabhan to Sarfaraz. leaving their seniors arguing over when to head to the gallery, Abhan and Sarfaraz took their leave and now here they are. 

"There's a couch, I'll take that," said Aabhan incredulously. 

"Oh yeah, I just didn't notice," Sarfaraz said sheepishly. 

"Sure you didn't," Aabhan countered, going into the bathroom to change out of his clothes. 

You could see right through the shower to the bedroom through the glass that barricaded it.

Sarfaraz tried to hide a smile as Aabhan took off his shirt. He knocked on the glass before he moved onto his pants.

Aabhan jumped in surprise before pulling the curtains over, covering the length of the window.

He emerged out in a red sleeveless jersey and shorts. He picked up a pillow and sat down on the bed. He used it to prop his head higher at the armrest and started going through a magazine after laying out a towel to keep his wet hair from the pillow.

Sarafaraz approached him and tried to read the cover of the magazine.

'Business times'

He read on to the highlights when the magazine was pulled down, and he was facing Aabhan, inches from his face.

"What?" The latter asked.

Sarafaraz stood back up, "was reading the cover, any complaints?" He asked.

"None whatsoever. Are you sleeping in that?"

Sarafaraz looked at his crumpled white shirt, at the mud that licked the ends of his pants and he knew that some of it must be splattered on his back.

"Yes. I don't have a change of clothes at hand." He muttered.

"I can lend you some clothes, if that's all," He suggested.

Sarafaraz looked at the man lying on the couch. He barely came up to his ears, although they were built along the same lines.

"Sure," He said.

The lines on Aabhan's face suggested he was deeply uncomfortable with the other's dirty clothes, and Sarafaraz decided to comply.

Aabhan picked out a couple of t-shirts and slung them over one shoulder and shorts over the other. He held a couple of them against Sarafaraz to see if they'd fit.

His eyes flickered up to meet his for a second before breaking the spell, he thrust a pair onto him and sat back down.

Sarafaraz grinned at the cloth covering the glass wall before walking into the bathroom.