zeinaxsyedkerr

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

"Everything." It slipped out like a confession, something she hadn't even admitted aloud to herself. Maybe out of grace for her mother, or to preserve her memory. She'd done the best she could, even moving countries to give them the best life, and Zeina was certain she hadn't meant to keep him such a mystery. There was no resentment, just another kind of grief that now she had no way to get any answers. But she realised that the answer wasn't all that insightful when Roman seemed to be searching for solutions. "What he liked, what he didn't like - did I have any of the same preferences?" A slight pause. "Was he a morning person or a night owl. How he took his tea - did he take it like mine?"

Lips pressed together, mouth moving to the side as she tried to hold back rising emotions and process what she'd said. If only to package the feelings into something that would be useful for him, she hadn't meant to pull the attention onto her with her outpouring of emotions. So she pulled them in, working to keep her voice level as though she was presenting facts rather than digging into the grief that had lingered since childhood. "Seems like I wanted to know if there was anything of me that was him too. That there was something to connected us, that would always connected, even though he's not here to make memories with anymore." Shoulders lifted into a delicate shrug, one final confession slipping out. "I just wanted to share things with him."

There was silence for a moment then, allowing herself a brief reprieve to figure out some kind of response to his next question. "Maybe when she asks?" Small sigh left her, it was as though there was some kind for this and yet she couldn't help but be hard on herself that she hadn't been more help. "I don't really know. But I don't think there'll ever be a perfect time." It was meant as a comfort but as soon as the words left her lips she realised how daunting that could be. Gentle squeeze was given to his arm, reassurance that they were in it together maybe the only comfort she could really offer. "But I'll be here whenever you decide."

the grief had always come in waves. for roman hadn't been given the reprieve from the rest of the world to simply allow it to work its way through him. there had been no time for him to simply stop and assess it. a fact that many would have been concerned over. but roman had seen it for what it was, attending to those that had needed him. namely, his daughter. though she'd had her grandparents, friends that had become like aunts and uncles to her. zeina, who was her godmother. her person second only to roman himself. even with them all within his corner, roman had pushed the grief aside. had allowed it to trickle in as if it were a small stream, rather than the waterfall that it had wanted to be. the loss something like a black mark upon his soul .

and with the date looming closer, all his thoughts had slowly drifted to sofia. but not to the memories that he'd shared with her. but to all that she would miss out on. already, she had missed zoraida's first steps. her first words. but she would also miss her first dance. her first date. and all those other firsts that would follow. in turn, zo would miss out on seeing her mother's smile. hearing the laugh that could cure any sort of sadness. she would miss the jokes that her mother claimed were some of the best. and all of that, had hurtled into roman like a freight train knocked off its tracks .

" what did you want to know about him? " the question came with a crack in his voice. filled only by the grief that clung to him. though roman had not lost his father in the same context as zeina, he had never considered those questions. he'd seen the full scope of his father, and had determined it had been enough. " when do i know she's ready for the truth? the why her mother isn't here anymore. " for it wasn't like his father, who had walked out on his family. this was loss, this was knowing that sofia would never be back. no matter how much anyone wished it so .

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

There was something about the notion of being known that had always comforted her, some kind of tangible proof that others cared enough to notice things about her. So she smiles, one borne from the calm that familiarity brought, a slight wryness to the expression to show he'd gotten it right. "Me neither." As she wrapped her hands around the tea he handed her, he only proved he did know her better than she could have expected. An almost masterfully subtle distraction before she could spiral into the maelstrom of emotions that always threatened to swallow her whenever there was even the vaguest reference to Ozan. "A little, thanks." Maybe the sweetness would help the lump in her throat dissipate.

Small sip was taken, careful not to burn her tongue and ruin the taste of the tea. She was quiet for a moment, used to leaving silences for the comfort of others but not so used to being so at ease with them herself. Maybe it was just because she knew if Aslan wanted to say something he would, no room for anxiety to creep in and tell her that there were things going unsaid. That's why his statement doesn't spike panic the way it would from someone else, just raising her brow slightly. "Sounds ominous." Wry smile flickered over her lips but that soon faded to be replaced by a more genuine openness. "Ask away."

As the word retire rolled off her tongue, there was a shift in his expression. To Aslan, the thought of retirement had never crossed his mind. He can comprehend that for others it's a milestone. Nonetheless, it's never been situated in himself due to the life he led, where retirement came in the form of something much more permanent and morbid. So Zeina's version had taken a moment for him to catch up to. To which he offered a faint nod of his head in response. "Never pictured you retiring." Not in a bad way, he was simply telling her the truth. He knew the type well. Aslan had never found comfort in idleness either.

Though he'd turned his attention to pouring two glasses of tea, her sigh with the mention of Türkiye hadn't gone unnoticed. His lack of previous understanding faded with this specific topic. Here he can comprehend the heaviness of a place that held too many memories in the form of losing a sibling. While Esra had returned to his life, Zeina was still left with no answers in regard to her brother's whereabouts. The unknown enough to drive anyone mad. So he doesn't meet her gaze yet, except following a sip of the hot tea. "Sugar?" A distraction in itself to ask about the drink rather than if she's heard anything new pertaining to Ozan. And without allowing that thought to hang long, he turns his attention to a moment of business. "I have to ask you something."

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

"Oh, of course." As soon as he said it she thought she'd heard it somewhere, maybe not something she should have known immediately but she felt bad for it slipping her mind nonetheless. "Congratulations. I think I have a nice red somewhere if you're feeling like celebrating." Achievements were worth marking, after all, and she hums lightly in acknowledgement as he explained his new duties. Light teasing tone flecked her voice, smile playing over her lips. "Sounds awfully important."

"Well the hospital is pretty much the same as always - chaos but you can guarantee that." Expression shifted to a mix of amusement and then reassurance. "But no matter how busy that keeps me I'll always make the time." She had to eat, after all, it wasn't much more effort to make multiple portions.

Charlie took another bite. "Got a promotion," he said casually, lifting his shoulders in what might could of passed fas a shrug. "Overseeing shipments and all that shit now." Smuggling coordinator, or at least that was the fancy term they used. As he swallowed, he paused just long enough to to wipe away a dribble of sauce from his chin, before picking up the fork again.

"What 'bout you? Anything new happening? Or you just have all this free time to constantly feed everyone?" He quickly raised his hands up in a rather dramatic fashion. "Not that i'm complaining."

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

YOU don’t have to be perfect to be loved. but I do

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

Smile curled at the corner of her lips, an easy explanation as to why she'd let her in so far without any real kind of challenge. "You're the only one with a key and I figure you're not trying to kill me." Expression turned wry for a moment, teasing slightly before she opts for a more reassuring route. "But if it makes you feel any better I went to the shooting range the other day." It was far from her favourite pastime but she considered it a good use of her time if it brought anyone in her life a little more comfort. And the gun in question was within arms reach but just far enough away for it to be out of her mind until she needed it. Out of sight, mostly out of mind.

Head shook quickly before Arden could find some kind of excuse to leave. "No, not anyone specific anyway." It wouldn't have been entirely out of the ordinary for someone to turn up unexpectedly, either because they needed her in a professional capacity or for the open invitation that was extended for dinner to anyone who knew her. Glass was extended out towards her sister in law, gaze travelling familiar features to see if she could guess what might have kept her away this time. Finding nothing obvious she asked, trying to put a stop to her mind racing a mile a minute and filling with dozens of terrible scenarios. "How have you been?" The question was light enough but they both knew that Zeina wasn't about to let some half-baked answer slide. She'd learned not to push but that didn't mean she forwent all expectations.

She’d been in a strange headspace since the yacht party — caught in the crosscurrent of complicated feelings and an uncharacteristic swell of self-loathing. Arden had always struggled to connect with herself, to name what she wanted, needed, or craved — even before Oz went missing and the whole framework of her life shifted beneath her. Maybe it was the timing. Maybe that little run-in with Nico had shaken her more than she was willing to admit. Or maybe — and this was the part she hated most — she was starting to realize she might have real feelings for León. Ones that lingered, even after everything that had happened between him and Aslan. Ones that could come with consequences (whether real or imaginary) she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

So, Arden had done what she always did when in the midst of having a moment -- she withdrew. A routine that even Zeina was undoubtably used to but really didn't deserve. Thankfully, her sister in law had come to learn that it more often than not wasn't personal, evident by the way she managed to saunter in and be met with something akin to normalcy. "You have terrible survival instincts, you know." She remarked wryly, tossing her jacket onto the back of the couch before joining the other woman in the kitchen, “Uh – sure.” Tongue poked at the inside of her cheek, leaning her hip against the counter with her arms crossed. “Unless you’re waiting on company or something. I can come back.”

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

Despite a continuing conscious effort to remain present in her life, there were some days that had her operating on auto-pilot. A successful but complicated surgery had left her remaining bandwidth for the day running low, so much so that she almost didn't notice the figure at her door until she almost stepped on him. There was instant concern, of course, but then she found herself quickly resigned to her fate for the rest of the day. It wasn't as though she wasn't used to patching Rafe up by now, it almost as much of a fixture in her life as her actual job. Head shook slightly at his chiding, returning it with some of her own though her tone was undeniably still gentle. "You know you could have beeped me for this and I'd have come without any need for a search party." Keen gaze travelled over him quickly, trying to piece together just how badly he was injured. With a sigh she tipped her head towards her door. "Come on. Let's get you inside so I can take a look." Eyes narrowed slightly as she heard the way his breath wheezed, making a mental note to check his ribs as soon as they were in doors. "Do you need a hand up?"

@zeinaxsyedkerr location: outside her place

Something was definitely broken, what it was? He had no fucking clue. He sure as shit wasn't a doctor, undoubtedly a blessing to all those around him who may ever need medical assistance. The slaughterhouse had been an undoubtedly overzealous choice. With growing tensions between factions - and everyone seeming to look twice as hard over their shoulder each and every time a shadow should arise, but all things considered - he hadn't had an absolute disaster of a night. Yet, the crust of blood that dried across his brow, and the slow wheeze of his breath among other things had left him with little choice. Or rather - given him an opportunity to bother Z. By the time he'd dragged himself to her front door, knowing she wouldn't yet be home, he planted himself and closed his eyes. Awaiting the oncoming sound of footsteps; of which only sought to peek a single eye open to look up at her, "Do you have any idea what time it is, missy?" He scalds in a mocking tone of every overbearing parent in the world, "Another hour and I'd have sent the search team out looking for you..."

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

"They do say practise makes perfect." Tone was warm, only lightly teasing when any kind of devotion was to be admired in her opinion. Whatever it was that people chose to dedicate their time to was worthy of praise and appreciation. Eyes widened slightly at the next question, almost surprised until she remembered that the other woman was a therapist and curiosity likely came with the territory. "I pray." Not to any god in particular, just to whatever forces were around them in their universe. She had the skill and the talent but she figured it never hurt to ask for a little help with the unexpected. "But before that I go over the procedure enough times that I could probably do it blindfolded. A playlist too, something orchestral to clear my mind. And then scrubbing in can be a ritual in itself."

Gaze drifted to the two other shooters, some relief that she was no longer the sole topic of focus. Some amount of sympathy in her gaze as she studied them both briefly, her own relationship with guns complicated enough that she could easily imagine that theirs could be too. It was an odd distinction perhaps that she was so used to the violence of the world she had chosen to entangle herself in ( although choice was relative, had there really been one when she'd done nothing but follow her brother ) but she "Sometimes it can hard to not let emotions rule you." It had taken her an entire life of practise to ensure that hers didn't after all. "Your version sounds the healthiest, though."

it's within concrete box of iron sight gun range that seneca discovered a newfound respect for zeina. to be clear, she always held high regard for anyone who worked at the hospital. especially in high-pressure roles, like neurosurgery. ( any kind of surgery, really. she couldn't even fathom doing that. ) but this added another layer to her colleague. seneca likened it to unlocking something hidden about the other. ( perhaps that was true, but more than likely, she was just projecting her own need to remain unknowable onto someone else. ) it made perfect sense that somehow zeina, regularly responsible for holding a patient's whole consciousness in her hands, would be interested in something like guns.

cue a quick smile to acknowledge the compliment. " oh, yeah, " she shrugged it off, peering down at the rifle still heavy in her own hands. " i mean, i guess. i've just done it a long time. " she placed it down gently on the shooting bench before lifting her gaze back up at the other. " what do you do to get in the zone before surgery ? right before you make the first incision ? " seneca knew so little about surgery that she wasn't even sure if that was the proper verbiage. " i just approach shooting like it's... meditative. it shouldn't come from anger. " the girl tipped her chin in the direction of a fellow shooter : a large man with a full automatic, reeling on getting the perfect shot. " or fear. " just beyond him was a young woman, maybe 23 at most, meek in the way she held a pistol. " you breathe. and you shoot. i don't know. "

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

Despite having been taught how to use a gun years ago ( her brother demanding that she knew how to defend herself despite her protests that she didn't want to learn ) the feeling of it in her hands never made her feel any less uneasy. It wasn't as though her hands weren't used to holding something that could wound, they held a scalpel in them often enough. But that was always with the aim to heal, to help rather than to hurt or kill.

But she kept the skill up, not wanting to make herself a liability or anything close to a cause for concern. With things in the city getting tenser and tenser there seemed to be no time like the present to dust off her aim. She started slightly at the sound of another voice, too lost in her own thoughts to realise where her gaze had settled. "Sorry, I was more zoning out than zoned in."

Throat cleared slightly as she shook her head in response. "No, I'm just trying to get in the zone." Though if she waited for that to happen she'd probably never bring herself to pull the trigger. "I don't think so. I don't come as often as I should." Guilt lingered in her words but she instead chose to smile at her colleague. "I didn't know you were so multitalented." The words are warm, the dryness very much aimed at herself.

open starter · @bloodnglorystart location  · iron sight range

when given the option to select a firearm, the girl would choose a rifle every time. it was half out of comfort ( a prized memory shooting aluminum cans off the porch on her auntie's property ) and half out of dignity  — there was something honest about it. a primordial tool, the barrel an extension of her arms. inhale. exhale. squeeze. the recoil pad dug into her shoulder like the firm, abrasive hug of a long lost parent. it'd bruise. seneca loved bruises. they were a reminder of what she came from: flesh and blood. " i'm not much for spectators, " she removed the hearing protection from her ears, hanging it around her neck before throwing a glance in the other's direction. a hint of a smile played on her lips. " if you're waiting for a spot, i've still got another thirty rounds or so. " cue a familiar click as she lifted the bolt, and expelled an empty cartridge. it clattered to the floor before rolling towards her companion, as if to beckon her towards them. " have i seen you here before ? "

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

"That might be more of a threat if I actually really used mine." The words were light, hiding the fact that even if the app did sit mostly dormant on her phone that the idea that she had been blocked would eat away at her. Any form of rejection, however small and however teasing, would always unsettle something inside of her. The fear was only stoked up more at the mention of the act having real life consequences. The rational in her knew that it was only teasing and so she managed to quell the emotions that threatened to tighten her throat.

"Oh well we can't have that." Dry words that betrayed nothing of her brief inner turmoil. They were nonetheless true, however, even the brief time they'd spent together enough to cement a desire in her that she wanted to maintain their friendship. And not just because she had difficulty letting anything go. "Maybe we need a plan on how to deal with it." Because she knew it would undoubtedly happen again. LA could be such a small world despite its size.

"I don't think jumping into the bushes or leaving each other to fend off the questions on their own would be our finest moments." She laughed slightly, amused by the lengths that the two of them had been prepared to go to just to avoid a simple conversation. But she knew her avoidance came from not wanting to disappoint someone after their good intentions hadn't panned out. "You want to tackle it together or do you want to flip for who has to break it to her?"

Elena never put much stock in actual dating, and so agreeing to a blind date had been out of an unfortunate desire to please her friend rather than an actual interest in such a thing. Thankfully, Zeina apparently had much the same thoughts on the situation and they'd bonded over it, which was why she now agreed for a casual coffee run amid a busy week and a current disposition that begged for solitude.

The universe had a sense of humor, however--before the words even left Zeina's mouth, she spotted the woman in question, her hand shooting to her friend's forearm as she prepared to drag the pair of them off the sidewalk and through the immaculately landscaped set of bushes to their left. In fact, she'd nearly done it when their mutual friend turned abruptly and changed their path, a phone now pressed to their ear. An awkward, bubbling laugh fell from Elena's lips as she dropped Zeina's arm.

"Listen, I'm glad we're friends and all, but if you leave me alone with her after she spots us together, I'm blocking you on instagram," she quipped. "Unfriending IRL will also be considered," she added as she brought her cup of coffee to her lips, amber eyes mischievous for a moment. "This is going to haunt us forever, huh."

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

"It's crossed my mind." Smile tugged at the corner of her lips in response to his attempt at humour. "But I think it would take all the soothing out of it if there was the pressure of it suddenly being my livelihood." It was the way she could take her time that was what comforted her, the knowledge that she could make something wonderful with effort and care. Churning out dish after this was an entirely different skill, one she didn't think she had the heart for. "Maybe if I retire." If, not when. Because she couldn't imagine her life without her work or without Kurtlar. The idea of stopping not one she truly wanted to entertain when it felt too much like she'd lose everything if she did hang up her scalpel. Only every knowing how to exist when she was needed.

Gaze flickered over his features at the mention of his bad mood, light hum the only acknowledgement she gave him. There was a desire to press, there always was, in some attempt to help whatever was weighing on him. But she didn't, instead leaving space for him to speak if he wanted to. The mention of Turkiye caused something to tighten in her chest, sigh slipping from her. "All the time." It had been home, after all. "But never enough to do anything about it." Not when there was the fear that it would bring back too many memories she was doing her best to avoid. Any happiness she might find undeniably tinged with grief. "Here feels as much like home as anywhere else." But maybe that was just because she'd always associated a home with a family rather than a place.

"Ever thought of joining your sister in law at Le Celeste? If the neurosurgeon route starts to bore you." It was a joke, at least, what counted as one in Aslan's books. Where they'd both lost familial ties (loosely used in reference to himself), Zeina seemed to work tirelessly to rebuild what she lacked, a stark contrast to Aslan where family was never something he could truly relate to. Esra had been the closest thing in his case. He understood the concept well enough; blood ties that bound people together, seen it within the structure of Kurtlar: the patriarchs and their children, his friends and their siblings. But for Aslan, reality was either he trusted someone completely or he didn't trust them at all. Zeina no less than the former.

"None of those," blame that on the fact half the muscles in his body had become numb over time, "but mood's always been a bit shit, so hard to tell." He glanced back at her, the corner of his lips lifting just enough to take the weight out of his words. He had never argued with her interrogations, as she referred to it, he just didn't see the need for them if the injury wasn't extensive, or something he could handle on his own. After a beat of silence, his gaze had drifted to the boiling kettle before he spoke again. "Ever think about going back to Turkiye?"

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

Zeina's place with Arden Moore @ardenmoore

Throughout their years of knowing one another Zeina had learnt the hard way that her sister in law could be somewhat hard to pin down. Something she'd struggled to adjust to when her natural instinct was always to pull everyone closer and grasp them tightly. But Arden had resisted, not out of anything but her nature. They'd struck up a compromise long ago, unspoken but still binding. Zeina allowing space by her standards and Arden allowing closeness by hers. She'd learned to wait for her sister in law to come to her, knowing that she would in her own time.

Bottle was in her hand, pouring herself a large glass of wine after a day that had thrown complications at her, taxing her abilities. She stopped mid-pour when she heard the door. "Arden?" She was the only logical answer. The only one who had a key and would show up unannounced where everyone else would just knock. "Your timing is almost scary good." She called, expecting to see her come down the corridor any second. "I just opened a bottle of red, you want some?"

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

Light chuckle left her lips at his statement. "High praise indeed." Warm but still dry, she could only hope her cooking was consistently better than a food chain. Maybe that said something about her sense of self, that her only felt some kind of ego about the thing she did for others more than for herself. Whatever need for praise she felt about it was instantly satisfied when he took a bite and his immediate reaction was positive. Smile curled onto her lips at his question, small nod of her head given. "Last time I checked, yeah." Only lightly teasing, never wanting to do anything that would jeopardise the evening. The last thing she wanted was to have her evening turn out exactly the way she feared - with her alone. "So, how're things treating you? Can't imagine they've been all that quiet for you?"

Charlie was a straightforward kind of guy. If someone offered to cook for him, he wasn't going to say no. In fact, he loved when people did stuff for him. It meant he didn't have to do anything, but show up. So when Zeina mentioned lasagna, there wasn’t a chance in hell he'd refuse. Standing at the doorway with his hands stuffed into his pockets, Charlie gave her a quick nod of greeting when she opened the front door before strolling straight into the kitchen. "Better than Taco Bell," he shrugged and piling a hefty portion onto his plate without hesitation. "Hell yeah," he muttered, his grin widening. "I love lasagna. Tastes like Italy in my mouth." He paused just long enough to take another bite, brow furrowing slightly. "It's Italian, right?"

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

It wasn't exactly an unusual thing for her to drop everything and be there for someone who needed her. Not when she eternally put the needs of others before herself. But there was more to it with Roman, she felt more than just duty bound to be there for him. The stakes were high, feeling as though she'd be failing someone who was no longer with them if she didn't handle it right. Concerned spiked when she saw him, even more when she heard him. A soft sigh slipping from her lips as she continued towards him. "You tell her the truth." Words were said softly, gently as though she was breaking difficult news to him. She knew it was far easier said than done. "That she was so loved by her. And you talk about her, tell her how wonderful she was. Talk about her kindness and her resolve and how she was always the smartest person in the room but never flashy or conceited with it. Don't keep her a mystery."

Slowly, delicately as though she was worried that moving too quickly would startle him, she took a seat next to him. With a light touch, she placed a hand on his arm, hoping it might anchor and ground him through the spiralling emotions he was so obviously going through. There was silence for a minute, both to let her words sink in and so she could regain her composure. It only partially worked, her voice still laden with emotion when she spoke again. "When we lost my dad, my mum didn't know how to bring him up anymore, the grief I think. I think she always meant to start again but the time never really came and now -" She shrugged in place of pointing out the obvious, that not only did she have no clear picture of her father she also no longer had her mother to paint one for her. It wasn't something she often talked about, a feeling that it happened so long ago. But maybe it was relevant now, she could maybe know how Zoraida would one day feel. "- well, it leaves you with more questions than answers."

FEATURING    ›     roman & zeina ( @zeinaxsyedkerr ) LOCATED AT    ›     roman's house

the night air was cool, crisp. keeping him levelheaded, despite the fire that seemed to burn within him. the kind that threatened to burn one from the inside out. within his hand nestled a beer, simple. nothing fancy or overly expensive. while his other hand rubbed at the lower portion of his face. across his mouth, against his jaw. his mind had started to race, tripping over thoughts as if he couldn't get it to settle down. all because a particular date loomed on the horizon. and zoraida had developed into that stage in life, where questions fell from her tongue quicker than roman could answer them. one in particular had caught him off guard .

" what am i supposed to tell her? when do i even know when the right time is? " his own set of questions came barreling out at the sound of footsteps. roman hadn't needed to look up, not when his phone still sat beside him on the step. the screen was unlocked, the message app opened to the exchange with zeina. to the request that she come over, before he absolutely lost his mind. " she's going to eventually ask, and i have no idea what to say. " maybe the alcohol wasn't helping. nor the fact that the anniversary of his wife's passing had nearly come around again .

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

"Sometimes I wonder if we're not all just a little too desensitised to it all." She wasn't really in the business of lying ( except to herself ) but withholding information had long been how she chose to navigate her friendships. Never wanting to become the burden she feared she'd be. But there was something about Zehra that inspired a kind of openness - a perfect trait for someone in her line of work. "But then maybe it's the only way we can keep on going." It seemed the only fair conclusion to draw when despite her own compassion she had compartmentalised enough to only care about a select few. The idea of caring so much for everyone else was an overwhelming one. "No, I suppose time is of the essence for you." People's attention spans could be so fleeting, quality hardly mattered if they'd already heard it first. "If there's anything I could do, I'm sure I could make time in between shifts. I'm owed a few favours too, I could do some swapping if it'd help." Soft smile slipped from her lips, expression taking on a rare sternness. "Just make sure you're aiming for some kind of work-life balance. Take time just for you in all of it." Hypocritical of her when she had made her home life about nothing but others.

zehra had heard it all before. the simple lies one told themselves to downplay the chaos around them. whether it was from losing someone close to them, or witnessing some heinous act that clung to them like their own shadow. she had heard it time and time again, the simplistic use of the word fine. and as it fell between them, her eyes shifted to the side, her gaze peeking at zeina from the corners. it had almost been believable, how easily she had spoken the word. but zehra had always known better than to trust it in a moment like this. on the other side of a night of catastrophe. but then, more words eased into the space between them. and her gaze shifted back to the onions on the board before her. " it's all a bit strange, isn't it? how quickly the city turns over after something like that? " her shoulders lifted in a shrug, before she set down the knife. her hands settled on the counter, as she looked over at zeina. " it's good, though. you wouldn't want that to cling to you. " she offered a soft smile, before it eased into a bit more of a grin. " oh, very soon. i have a few interviews i'd like to get through. hopefully get some more answers to the questions in my head. but i don't want to lose the momentum. " her head soon canted, her lips pursed into an air of thinking. " no, not really. the podcast and researching really has kept me quite busy. "

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

"But no less true." Soft but firm, verging on defensive. Perhaps he knew her habits too well for her to fool him but it didn't stop her from trying, "We all have our things that help us unwind." Although in her case it more often than not was just a Band-Aid over the ever open wound her anxiety caused. Never truly able to convince herself that things would be fine long enough for the wound to scab over and heal. Cooking a distraction, not the cure. "Good." She was satisfied, mostly, but then he left himself open to more and she was unable to resist rattling off a few more of the warning symptoms. "Nausea, confusion, mood changes, weakness or numbness in any limbs?" Gentle smile settled onto her lips, already eagerly anticipating the drink that she knew was coming her way. "If you say no, I promise I'll drop it and we can enjoy our teas without the interrogation."

"And lock it twice." The door, that was. Still, there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips in amusement. Not quite a smile, but close enough to count. "Therapeutic's a choice word for it." he muttered, following her into his home. Without much thought, he moved toward the kitchen in an attempt at his version of hosting. It wasn't elaborate, just familiar to customs she would recognize: the subtle routine of flicking on the kettle, pulling two cups from the shelf like muscle memory. And when she finally asked, in her own way that was careful not to overstep whilst laced with concern, he didn't look up. Though he didn't deflect either. At least he respected the directness of it, that she didn't need him performing a full examination, just a yes or no. "No concussion. Memory's intact. No seizures." As he flicked the kettle on, his gaze now drifted to meet hers. "Anything else?" The words weren't dismissive, just an indication that he was providing her the space to ask, if she felt she needed to.

[zeinaxsyedkerr]

Zeina's Place with Charles Windsor @charliewindsor

Since her divorce she'd operated something of an open door policy - if she was in and it was a mealtime anyone was welcome. There was a reluctance to truly be alone, the house feeling far too empty any time she was forced to eat by herself, the walls seeming to echo a kind of taunting song that she was alone. A scenario she did everything she could to avoid. But tonight had come close to be a solitary one, the evening drawing in with no sign of anyone else, pushing her closer to anxiety. It had been nothing short of a relief when the doorbell had rang just a few minutes before she had been due to take the lasagne out the oven. "Sorry it's not something more exciting, busy week." Voice was heavy with remorse, feeling some kind of misplaced guilt that she should have known he would be coming and thus made more of an effort. The dish of lasagne was placed on the table, gentle push to move it closer to him before she held out the serving spoon. "Here, make sure you get plenty."