The night had become unbearably deep.
There was silence on both sides of the call, yet somehow that silence was speaking more than words ever could. The world around them had fallen asleep, but between Kabir and Caify, only two breaths remained awake—his and hers.
After a long pause, Caify spoke softly.
"Do you like poetry?"
Kabir remained quiet for a few moments. He smiled to himself before answering.
"No."
"Not at all?"
He took a slow breath.
"I don't really like poetry. In poetry, people end up saying the things that some of us can only spend our lives feeling."
For a few seconds, there was nothing.
Then he heard her soft laugh.
"Then you're talking to exactly the opposite person. I don't even like listening to songs."
Kabir closed his eyes. He wasn't listening to her words anymore. He was listening to her existence.
And then, very gently, he said,
"Ek din shayari sunogi... aur sunaogi bhi. Mere saath muskuraogi bhi. Mere chhoone se sharmaogi bhi. Agar kabhi zakhm milenge, to mujhe dikhaogi bhi. Aur jab main thak kar, haar kar tere paas aaunga... tum apne seene par mera sar rakh kar sulaaogi bhi."
The words travelled through the darkness and settled quietly between them.
Caify did not answer.
Kabir could only hear her breathing.
Perhaps she had smiled.
Perhaps she had looked away.
Perhaps she was trying to hide the emotions those words had awakened inside her.
Or perhaps she simply did not know what to say.
After a while, she finally spoke, her voice carrying a tired smile.
"You need to sleep... go to bed."
Kabir smiled into the darkness.
"I told you... I will wait."
There was another silence.
The kind of silence that exists only between two people who have started becoming important to each other.
"You're crazy," she whispered.
"Yes. A little."
A pause.
"Only for you."
On the other side of the call, Caify sounded exhausted.
"Go to sleep, baby. I have lost all my energies."
Those words hurt him more than they should have. Not because she was tired, but because he wished he could sit beside her, hold her hand, and carry some of that tiredness himself.
"I like listening to your breathing," he said softly. "That's what I'm doing."
She laughed quietly.
"Arrey... I will sleep after a little while."
Kabir pulled the phone closer to his ear.
"Then sleep when you want to. Until then, let me listen to your breathing."
And then both of them became quiet.
No one disconnected the call.
No one said goodnight.
On one side, there was a girl who had no strength left to carry the weight of the day.
On the other side, there was a man who had found peace in the sound of her breathing.
There was exhaustion on one side.
There was waiting on the other.
And between them there was only the night... and two hearts that had begun speaking in ways words never could.
Because sometimes love is not in long conversations.
Sometimes it is staying awake while the other person slowly falls asleep.
Sometimes it is listening to someone's breathing because their existence alone brings peace.
And sometimes, the deepest confession in the world is not "I love you."
It is simply—
Sleep... I'm still here.