I would just like to clarify, Abir is NOT bad, at the very most he's a grey character. This story is a bit mysterious and what it seems is not always what it is! Hope that makes sense x

A spike of adrenaline injects itself into his bloodstream the very second he swings open the door to her room only to see an empty bed. Papers drop carelessly from his callused hands and with that goes his heart that has fallen and crashed far too many times to be fixed.

But still, he believes it will be. It will be, if only she loves him in return.

Then he is running, retracing old footsteps that left no mark, sweat drips from his forehead with each clamber into a Doctor, Nurse or patient as he asks "My wife, my wife, have you seen my wife?"

The answer is always an apologetic frown and the two-letter word 'No'.

But Abir Rajvansh has heard that word a lot in his life, too many times to count and it is true that enough pushbacks send you jolting forward- he has been shoved and now he is flying forward at breakneck speed to reach the woman who is his, who will always be his.

His Mishti.

From the corner of his eye, he spots her in a wheelchair, wind brushing her strands of brunette into chocolate waves that caress her skin in the same way he wishes to.

Skidding to a halt beside her, he drops to his knees and cups her face "Mishti, you're here" his eyes shut to bask in the moment that is her beside him.

Cringing out of fear, she shivers, shoulders rising to guard her throat as if he was the kind of predator to attack her there. Shrugging away his hold, she turns back to the fresh air that washes away the grime and residue of sleep from her face.

Grabbing her again, his face contorts into one no one recognises, his eyes are covered with black and his kind smile morphs into distaste the second his skin colours a shade of darkness she has never seen before. "I thought I had lost you again, do you know how worried I was? I thought someone had taken you or that you'd left me, that-" his arms hit the ground with a thud when she pushed them away. "What if something had happened to you? What if, what if" he stopped, twisting her chair so she faced him, his hands coiled like vines around her arms. "Do you even understand what that did to me?"

"Get off of me" she screamed, hitting his arms away. "I don't know you, I may be something to you, but you are nothing to me". Mishti wasn't the type to hurt anyone, at least, she didn't think she was, but it was all too much too soon. Yes, she understood he was worried, but for her, this was a stranger speaking, even if for him, she was his wife. "Please, just take me home and leave me alone" wheeling herself away, she almost fell forward at the bump of his toe beneath the wheel.

As he hopped around, his eyes shut tightly, back hitting the wall and his hand massaging his foot.

Gasping, her hand squeezed her temples with brutal force at the sudden blinding pain that placed dark dots in her line of sight.

Wheeling forward, she stopped when the trolley hit a foot "Oh my god, I'm so sorry".

He groaned "Nothing to be sorry for, I shouldn't have been stood there" he chuckled.

Blinking past the haze, she gripped the arms of the chair. Whatever it was, seemed like a memory of some sort, but who the people were in the shop she didn't know because the faces were blurs of grey and black and the voices echoey, she'd estimate a guess that the woman was her and that maybe the man was him, but she couldn't be sure, she would never be able to be sure and that was what scared her the most.

Noticing the pain beneath her blank stare, he stepped out before her "Mishti, are you okay? Is something hurting?"

She wouldn't tell him, not yet, this was all she had and she didn't want to share that with someone she didn't know. "Fine, I want to go home" though where that was, she didn't know, but she could imagine and imagine she did.

+++

The car journey had been pin-drop silent, the kind of quiet that begged you to say something, anything, the kind of hush that haunted you late into the night.

Her imagination hadn't been too far off, the house was large, colossal even, with a burning fireplace that shone with lit embers atop brown logs, the walls were a cream colour lined with old fashioned planks and nails and the staircase wound around in a semi-circle from the high tier roof to the entrance door. She hoped, but she did not believe that her expectations were correct because this was home and that some part of her unknown psych knew that because that meant she knew it and she longed to know something of who she was before she got hurt.

"Doctor says you'll need some physical therapy to help with using your legs, not to rush it and take it easy" peering up from her discharge forms, his fingers traced her first name beside his surname before he pushed it into a matte black file that sat on a shelf. Love had been a subject studied over the past few months, he knew now things he never knew before, perhaps the part that played the most importance was that he could make her love him if he tried hard enough, he could make her love him if only she'd give him a chance.

Sighing loudly, her eyes wandered over the photos on the wall "No photos of us?"

For a second he paused, a ghost white colouring his cheeks "Not here".

"Then where?" If they were married and he'd waited like he had, then why wasn't their relationship celebrated?

"Upstairs" Abir removed his reading glasses as he neared her. "Shall I carry you?"

Her face dropped "Carry me?"

Taking it as an order rather than a question, he placed his lower arm beneath her knees and the other around the middle of her back so her right side was quashed into his torso as he climbed the many stairs.

Not sure where to place her hands, Mishti dropped them into her lap "That wasn't a yes by the way" she muttered. It felt so odd being so close to someone she had no memory of, shouldn't it all have felt natural if they had once been in love? She thought so, but what she felt was the furthest thing from that.

"It wasn't a no either".

At that she looked away, he wasn't wrong and neither was she. Biding her time by pulling a hole into her fleece jumper, she almost stumbled from his arms at the sight of the bed draped in velvet curtains that spoke of the kind of love she only read in steamy novels. When her back hit a pillow, a glossy book landed on her lap, surfacing her fingers across it, she turned over a page, a breathy gasp hitting her lips at the multitude of images of her and her husband. "We look so happy here" she hadn't meant to say it aloud, but the picture had given her faith, renewed her hope.

"Hm," he chuckled throatily. "It was your birthday, we decided to just close our eyes, pick a place on a map and explore".

"Where did we go?" Her eyes twinkled in the darkness that his soul had doused her in.

"Manhattan".

"Like Maid in Manhattan, I love that film, is that why? Because you knew that?" She couldn't stop herself from shuffling closer to him.

"We visited all the sights" he nodded.

For the first time since she'd been awake, she smiled "Could we go again? It may help me with my memories".

Though her smile was wide, his was suddenly nowhere to be seen "I don't think that's a good idea, no need to push it, get some rest, Mishti" then he was gone and with him her hopes.