His smile began to drop.
“No, keep smiling.”
His facial muscles froze, as if slave to her command.
“Youarevery good at taking care of your people. You give me your car keys when you are sure I will get drunk and come in some random car, you bully Atharva into staying in the hospital bed when you know he might get smoke poisoning and he is being a stubborn bull, you,” her brows rose, “treat old ice cream sellers for free.”
Samar swallowed.
“Are we gathered here to read your eulogy or something? Why am I waxing poetic about you?”
“That’s it? Nothing more before they light my pyre?” He asked. Amaal’s eyes widened — “Your ability to turn even a funeral into a joke is commendable. But yeah, that’s it. You have Hmmed me away from all other important things.”
“Have I?”
“Need I remind you of the conversation we had before you left for Ladakh?”
His smile dropped. As did hers. He looked down at the weeds popping up between his shoes. Stubborn things.
“Samar?”
“Hmm?” He looked up, adjusting his specs.
“What’s troubling you?”
He shook his head. “The last few days.”
“It’s getting better. Atharva recovered in no time, Iram is home and getting better, and KDP…”
“Don’t even remind me,” he huffed.
“The campaign is derailedbigtime,” Amaal agreed. “But it’s not lost.”
“Sympathy is tipping the next survey towards Sufiyaan Sheikh and Awaami.”
“And we still have a good long month to tip it back in our favour. Swing constituencies are not lost yet.”
“Hmm.”
Her nose scrunched up, and he made the sound again, nodding his head.
“Sometimes I think you only Hmm to irritate me. Then I realise that I am not that important to you.”
“You realise wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
He blinked, his mind stuck on what he had just said.
“I Hmm to everyone,” he said instead.
“Not as much as you do to me.”
Samar hadn’t counted his Hmms, but maybe she was right.
“You had a long day?” He roved his eyes over her face. It was bright, but tired.
“I have been getting very little sleep…” she yawned.
