the product of immense work

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/40050876.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M
Fandom: Vatanim Sensin (TV)
Relationship: Hilal/Leon
Character: Hilal, Leonidas Papadopoulos, Ali Kemal, Eleni, Tevfik, Original
Characters, Yildiz, Veronika Papadopoulous, Yakup
Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe -
College/University, Leon is a philosophy professor, Hilal is into History,
Not a Teacher-Student Relationship, Hilal is a Research Assistant, I am
devastated by the lack of fics in this fandom, so i wrote one, Love
language through Coffee, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories,
Leon is Whipped, He doesn't know it yet, Not until it hits him in the face,
Hilal is confusing, But it's understandable, she a smol bean and i
protecc, Leon Centric, Mentioned cultures, Overthinking, Self-Doubt,
Hilal is Muslim here but I don't think I did it justice, The Author Regrets
Everything, Not Beta Read, will do that after i get this off my system,
Fluff and Angst, Existential Angst, it gets fluffier, F L U F F towards the
end, Talk about Soulmates, Religion, References to the Odyssey,
References to the Symposium
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2022-07-03 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 32580

the product of immense work

by punkchestnuts (yoongiinthecity)

Summary

Normally, Leon would give up if he knew a person preferred not to talk, but this was Hilal.
She wasn’t a stranger. She was…an acquaintance? A childhood friend? Whatever she had
been, she is more than just a stranger, and Leon is only curious.

He's also a little frustrated that she’s not making it easy to ask her anything.

“You don’t have to watch me do this.” She clears her throat. "I can manage on my own.”

“I know you can. But do you seriously think I’m here to watch you type the same word in
the search box over and over again?”

“Don’t you have a class?”

“Why are you so adamant of pushing me away?”

“Why are you so adamant of staying when this clearly doesn’t benefit you?”

“Hilal, come on. I just wanted to have a conversation.” He sighs. “It’s been thirteen years,
 and I honestly have never expected to see you again. Is it so bad to want to know how
you’ve been?”

She looks at him. He’s forgotten how blue her eyes are. “I hardly think this is the right
place for that.”

He frowns. “How so?”

Or in which Hilal and Leon knew each other when they were kids and now they meet
again, thirteen years later.

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

 Part 1

It’s done. It’s finally done.

Leon slumps against his chair with a sigh. After three days, he refuses to look at his laptop screen,
refuses to see the numbers he’s been computing for the better part of those three days, and he
refuses to aggravate the already forming headache behind his eyes.

He takes his glasses off and turns in his chair. He looks up to the ceiling of the faculty room, half
expecting the lights to start flickering as horror movies go when you’re alone in a room way past
your out-time. He’s been alone in the faculty room for a while now. The other professors had left
hours ago to probably finish the rest of the grading at home. Leon had stubbornly stayed in the
faculty room knowing he wasn’t going to concentrate with his roommate being around. (He liked
Ali Kemal, but his roommate was loud and loved to annoy Leon whenever he got the chance.) The
wifi in the university was faster than at home anyway.

After a few minutes of staring into space, he straightens in his chair to turn back and review the
grades lined up in the spreadsheet he has opened. After being satisfied that everything was in order,
he closes his laptop and begins packing up to go home.

When Leon was younger, he had never thought of becoming a teacher. Being the only child, he had
never had the experience of handling children. His cousins had long gotten married, but they lived
too far away for him to visit his nieces and nephews. The few instances that he did see them, the
kids never really liked him anyway. They always found him too serious or too intimidating even if
he did try to entertain them. Thus, the idea of being a teacher was so far out of the question.

His father wanted him to become a lawyer like him, but his mother wanted him to be a writer. Leon
had determined to appease them both by taking Philosophy as a pre-law degree only to end up
doing it full-time much to his father’s chagrin and to his mother’s delight.

He liked philosophy because it wasn’t easy and that it could preoccupy him for long hours. He
liked it because it gave him the excuse to read books without people accusing him of being idle.
He liked that he didn’t always understand the theories and the treatises these obscure thinkers
wanted to tell him. He liked that he got to write, publish and attend conferences just to discuss the
musings of old men and women concerning every aspect of life. He liked the differing
interpretations and perspectives about them, and he found that he especially loved it for being able
to talk about it in front of a class of young adults who may or may not want to have been in his
classes (regardless, Leon always took it as a challenge to make them like philosophy despite the
heavy misconceptions around it).

He liked philosophy, but he didn’t really like the additional tasks of being a professor in a
university. The end of each semester were the worst really, when impressively rushed papers and
requirements were being submitted and evaluated, and when he has to rush crunching numbers just
to reach a deadline. What he didn’t like was the emails that came after the release of grades when
students come asking for extra credit.

(He shudders at the thought of having to read through them come Monday morning after the
release of grades.)

What he also didn’t like was the fact that he had to participate in every faculty and college meeting,
and that he had to perform certain administrative tasks besides his first duty to teach and do
research.
Despite all the things he didn’t like about his job, he couldn’t admit that he wanted an out from it.
It all boils down to the fact that he actually loves teaching and he loves the very subject that he has
to teach.

It’s what drives him to stay overtime at his small desk in the faculty room, and what drives him to
stay despite the number of tasks and duties they give him.

He leaves the faculty room at 8 pm, and finally gets to see his cellphone which had been lighting
up in notifications for hours.

Ali Kemal has been texting him if he was coming home late and whether he had time to get take
out. Leon rolls his eyes and texts his roommate that he was on his way home and that there would
be no take-out.

(He trusts Ali Kemal to have already ordered in something after not receiving an immediate reply
from him.)

True enough, he gets home to Ali Kemal chewing on a slice of pizza in the kitchen

“You look like shit,” his roommate says in lieu of a greeting. “Did they make you choose furniture
for the faculty lounge again?” His roommate smiles teasingly, no doubt remembering that one time
Leon came home with a few furniture catalogs. It had been funnier because Leon actually took it
seriously by doing research on interior design and on the best deals for sofa sets.

Leon had just taken his shoes off when Ali Kemal made the comment. “Haha,” he deadpans. He
places his Oxfords next to Ali Kemal’s tactical boots on their designated space.

“I just finished grading. Three undergrad subjects, two sections each.” He makes a beeline for the
couch and basically melts into it. “The semester’s over but there’s the summer term in a week.”

“I still don’t know why you won’t take a sabbatical. You haven’t had a vacation since you started
working at the university,” Ali Kemal says, throwing an uneaten crust into the pizza box before
shutting it closed. “It’s been what? Six years?”

“You forget that I’ve tried, but the Dean hates me,” Leon points out. “I’ve been preparing for my
PhD for more than a year and the College conveniently becomes understaffed. You know this, Ali
Kemal.”

His roommate just shrugs and begins cleaning up the mess on the coffee table. There was a thick
folder with paper and photographs strewn across the surface and even the floor.

“Is that a new case?” Leon asks.

“Yes and no,” Ali Kemal replies. “It’s a cold case from fifteen years ago. Thirteen-year-old girl
found dead by a summer camp. She was strangled and there were no leads and minimal evidence
until recently. The captain just assigned it to me and Eftalya.”

“Ah,” Leon dumbly answers. He’s normally enthusiastic about the cases Ali Kemal handles, and
even helps if it particularly interests him. But right now, the idea of hearing about a teenager’s
murder doesn’t sound too appealing. “Good luck with that. I think I’m going to bed.”

“Sure. You look like you need it,” Ali Kemal says.

Leon gives him a half-hearted salute before leaving for his room.
He falls asleep once his head hits the pillow.

Despite the following week being free of classes, Leon finds himself having to rush a lesson plan
for a subject he wasn’t supposed to teach for the summer term. One of the professors of the
Philosophy faculty, Professor Kalde recently suffered a stroke. Leon had been informed through
email by the dean, Professor Tevfik, about the probability of him having to take over some of
Professor Kalde’s classes not just for the summer term but for the next semester as well.

There were a few people in the department who took up some of the load and they were all in no
position to say no. Leon reluctantly accepts the responsibility even if he had to shut his laptop and
scream out in frustration.

He spent the better part of that week reacquainting himself with the subject and revising Kalde’s
syllabus. He had other research deadlines that week that he wasn’t able to sleep and the next thing
he knows is the start of the summer term was on the next day.

Leon looks at his calendar with disdain before he closes the app. His schedule was jam-packed for
the entire week for the next few months.

At least Ali Kemal and Eftalya had a breakthrough with their cold case. (It was anti-climactic
really. The evidence they found led them to a suspect who eventually confessed to everything.
Even Ali Kemal had to express his disappointment that it was that easy.)

His first class in the morning was at 8 am. That was as late as he could negotiate with the School
Registrar who had scheduled all of Kalde’s classes in the earliest possible schedule in the morning
(see 7 am). Kalde was notorious for his impossibly early morning classes and Leon personally
preferred his classes on midmornings and early afternoons.

He goes into class with a less amiable demeanor and he can’t even blame the students for feeling
the same way. Plus, it was an elective course for non-Philosophy majors. There was a key
difference between Philosophy majors and non-Philosophy majors taking a Philosophy course.
Philo majors had no choice but to be interested in their subject. They had the inclination to fulfill
every requirement because their degree depended on it. Non-Philo majors didn’t have that. While
some of them willingly enrolled in the class because they genuinely thought it was interesting,
some of them also had been fucked over by schedule conflicts and desperate grabs for units.

Leon is willing to bet that half of the class would be dropping the course before the dropping
period. It is an elective course on Ancient Ethics after all.

At least the class is the first meeting so Leon could dismiss them early so they could all get coffee
or an opportunity to wake up. His students looked like they literally rolled out of bed just to get
into class on time. He doesn’t feel bad for making the effort of dressing up a little bit though.

He doesn’t set his laptop with the projector and instead sits at the front table after he distributed the
syllabus to his students.

“We’re not going to talk about anything substantial today,” he says, crossing his arms as he
addresses his class. “But I’m willing to negotiate with you guys about the schedule of this class.”

He notices some of the students perking up about that.

“We have an hour and a half for this subject,” he continues. “But I’m willing to cut it down to an
hour if we can have our class at 8:30 instead of 8. It’s not much, but it can give you some more
time in the morning. I know I do.”
He can see some of the students nodding.

“That okay then?”

A series of yesses and ‘yessirs’.

“Alright, then you guys are dismissed. We can discuss the syllabus in our next meeting. I’ll see you
on Friday at 8:30.”

He goes straight to the faculty room once the last of the kids walked out of the classroom. He
makes a beeline for the coffee machine despite the coffee perpetually tasting like paper. Leon
needed his caffeine and that was enough.

(He vaguely remembers drinking coffee with his old Turkish neighbors when he was a teenager. It
was the best that he’d had, and he remembers the oldest daughter making a cup for him out of this
copper scooper looking thing.)

A few professors are already preparing for their next classes, and Leon could only visualize his
schedule for the day.

Dean Tevfik suddenly enters the faculty room with a girl in tow.

“Good morning, everyone!” he greets and Leon lifts his cup in greeting. He has no patience
pretending to be respectful when his coffee tasted like shit and he had to be in school before 10 am.

“I’d like to introduce you to our newest research assistant,” Dean Tevfik continues. “She’ll be
working closely with the History department’s collaboration project on the Ottoman empire. Please
treat her well.”

He steps aside to give room for the new research assistant. She’s a small thing. Short, barely
reaches his shoulders. Chestnut hair, big blue eyes and a pouty mouth. She’s also wearing a head
scarf.

“Hello,” she greets shyly but looks everyone present in the eye. “I’m Hilal.”

She says her name as her eyes land on Leon.

The first thing that Leon thinks is: “She’s grown up so much.”

There were moments in Leon’s life he doesn’t think about. Some of those moments consist of
things of the most miniscule things that happen too often like the moments he keeps stubbing his
toe on his mother’s coffee tables, or the books at the library getting mixed up. There are some
moments that he ought to think about more, like how his mother keeps reminding him to call her or
how their nice neighbor keeps giving them cookies and looks at him with interested eyes.

And there were those moments, memories really, that he thinks about when he sees things and
trinkets that remind him of those days in the past. He sees a headscarf and he instantly thinks of
those two girls who used to live next door to his parents’ house. He finds a quote from Austen and
immediately thinks of a young girl carrying Mansfield Park almost wherever she goes, content to
read at the sidelines instead of joining the other kids play out on the street. He meets girls with
blue eyes and thinks that they’re not quite the right hue.

Those moments, memories, weren’t particularly remarkable but he looks at them fondly.

He remembers meeting Hilal when he was ten years old. A new family had just moved in next
door and his mother was excited about the idea of having new friends to invite over. She’s been
fussing the entire morning when a large truck pulled over and men started taking furniture into the
house.

He remembers helping his mother bake a few pastries the night before. She assisted him in making
chocolate chip cookies while she made her famous baklava. He remembers his mother arranging a
small tray of desserts the next morning with one of her pretty dresses and a smile on her face.

“Leon, are you wearing the jacket your uncle gave you last Christmas?” his mother asked.

Instead of answering, he presented himself to his mother with the said jacket.

“Are you sure that’s the right one? I could have sworn it was a little loose on you.”

“Yes, mitéra.”

She fixed him a look and pulled at the cuffs of the jacket. The jacket was a little bigger when Leon
tried it for the first time last Christmas. He remembered the cuffs going over his knuckles and now
they fell just the right way. “Oh dear, you’re already growing bigger. At this rate, we’re going to
have to upsize your entire closet within the year.”

She dropped a kiss on his head and went back to fixing the pastries as if the new neighbors were
going to inspect every crumb. (But if he had to be honest, he did feel nervous about the cookies he
helped make last night.)

Leon knew little of their new neighbors. All he knew was that their neighbors were longtime
employees of his father’s, and his father had suggested they move there for the convenience. They
lived in a good neighborhood and was five minutes away from town via car. He also knew that
their neighbors were Muslim and he forgot which country they had come from. The parents, he
overheard his parents one night, were immigrants and had been living in the country for more than
twenty years. They had two daughters who were born in the country.

“One of them is around Leon’s age,” he remembered his father say.

“Leon could learn to be more culturally sensitive,” his mother replied.

Leon didn’t really understand that at first, but he had decided to stop eavesdropping and go back to
his room to finish homework. He only realized what his mother meant when they finally stepped
out of the house to greet their new neighbors..

When he found out that their new neighbors were Muslim, Leon immediately thought that they
were people who would be protective about their religion and their culture. He had expected the
women in the family to be covered head to toe, and he also expected that he wouldn’t be able to
make friends with the two girls because of certain restrictions they might have. He also expected
that they wouldn’t be too friendly. How could his father invite them into their neighborhood that
was predominantly Christian? Weren’t the family afraid?

Of course, none of these were actually true, especially with Mr. Cevdet’s family. Instead of a stoic,
unsmiling family, Leon was shocked to see that the family was all smiles.
Mr. Cevdet was a hairy man, but you could see his smile even through the thick hair that covered
his lips. He was one of those people who smiled with their faces, and Leon felt less intimidated
about it. He greeted Leon’s family with that smile and even opened his arms for a hug, which his
father returned.

“Vasili! What a lovely family you have!” Mr. Cevdet said. His voice was deep and rich. The kind
that could narrate a documentary or read audiobooks.

“Thank you. This is my wife, Veronika,” Leon’s father introduced. “And my son Leonidas.” Mr.
Cevdet smiled at his mother and shook her hand.

“How old are you, Leonidas?” Mr. Cevdet asked once he got to him.

“I’m 10 years old, sir,” Leon answered, more firmly than necessary. But Mr. Cevdet just laughed.

“My Yildiz is also 10,” he said and turned back to his father. “Come, meet my family.”

Madam Azize was just as amiable as Mr. Cevdet. She was beautiful for someone her age and when
she smiled at Leon, he knew he liked her already. Madam Azize was slender and tall, with dark
hair peeking out of the head scarf that she wore. She wore a rich maroon sweater and a pair of
beige trousers. (Trousers!)

She wasn’t at all like the Muslims he saw on TV or in the books they read in school.

Her daughters wore headscarves as well and were dressed conservatively as their mother. The
tallest, Yildiz, he assumed, looked more like Madam Azize. He could see she had the same dark
hair that her mother had, but unlike Azize’s brown, she had green eyes.

The youngest daughter, whom Leon had yet to learn her name, was shorter. She had chestnut hair
and the brightest blue eyes he’s ever seen. She was much shyer than her mother and older sister,
but she had a small smile on her face.

“And this is my daughter, Hilal,” Mr. Cevdet introduced, placing a hand on his daughter’s head,
who had to tilt her head so high just to smile at her father. “She’s six.”

Hilal smiled at Leon’s family and uttered a soft, “Hello, it’s very nice to meet you.”

They were invited to eat inside Mr. Cevdet’s home where they readily accepted the pastries Leon
and his mother made. He had blushed when Madam Azize took a bite out of the chocolate chip
cookies and praised him for the effort.

Yildiz praised the cookies as well and he only noticed Hilal silently eating the cookies contentedly.

With the way the courtesy call ended, he knew that his mother was already planning a formal
dinner with their neighbors.

“What do you think?” his mother asked him once he had washed up for lunch.

Leon shrugged. “They’re okay.”

Mr. Chevdet and his family stayed for five more years before moving away again. Leon had spent
time with Yildiz since they were also in the same school and the same grade. They would often
invite each other to do homework at their houses, and Hilal would usually tag along, despite being
a few grades back.
Yildiz had always been the louder and more confident one. She was free with her touches and
would touch his arm when they talked or when she was particularly excited about something. She
also loved beautiful things. She loved flowers, frosted cookies, and she would often gush about his
mother’s clothes.

Hilal, meanwhile, was so unlike her sister that Leon had often wondered if the sisters got along
well. He knew that Yildiz tried her best to include Hilal on almost everything she does with her
friends, but he also knew she was annoyed at how closed off and serious her little sister was.

Hilal liked to read, which Leon could understand because he was an avid reader himself. He’d ask
her sometimes when she looked welcome to company about the book she was reading or if she’s
read a particular title. Hilal said little if it weren’t about books and novels, and Leon remembers
most of their interactions and conversations being limited to this subject.

He remembers one particularly moment when he was fifteen and she was eleven. They had gone
out to do errands together and Yildiz managed to cross the road before the traffic lights turned red.

He and Hilal were left to wait until it was safe to cross and when the time came, he was surprised
when she shyly slid her hand in his as they began to walk to the other side. She immediately let go
once they got to where Yildiz was.

“Sorry about that,” Yildiz said. “She always used to hold someone’s hand when she crosses the
street when she was younger. It stuck. It might be normal for us, but it might not be for you.”

“It’s okay,” Leon said who tried to say it to Hilal who refused to meet his eye.

Her eyes are still that shocking shade of blue and there’s a part inside Leon that seems happy about
this.

Hilal looks at him a beat second more before looking away to smile at the rest of the faculty.
Something inside him becomes even more pleased that she does recognize him.

Dean Tevfik takes her away after a few minutes and soon, Leon has to do his own work. He
prepares for his next class and doesn’t think about Hilal the rest of the morning.

The next time he steps into the faculty room, Hilal is there talking to one of the history professors.
She doesn’t see him since the professor’s cubicle is on the opposite side of the room and she has
her back towards him. The mint green headscarf was undeniably a giveaway that it was her.

He doesn’t interrupt the conversation as he walks to his own cubicle. He doesn’t have to prepare
for his next class, so he takes the recent textbook he’s reading. Hilal’s voice is deeper than he
remembers. He realizes he has a hard time trying to reconcile that this is the shy girl from his
childhood, one he used to help babysit (despite the fact she didn’t really need to be. He remembers
her being mature for her age.)

This Hilal was taller and held herself with a confident air that he had always wished she could have
when they were younger.

“We actually have a good Masters program here,” Professor Kim says. Leon looks up from his
book when he hears this. “True, it mainly focuses on Southeast Asian history, but I think your
research interests can coincide. After all, some Southeast Asian countries are Islam and we could
benefit from your contribution.”

“I appreciate it, Professor,” Hilal says with a smile. “I’ll consider it.”

Professor Kim smiles warmly at her, clearly pleased. “Thank you, dear. Now, what has Tevfik sent
you here for again?”

“Oh yes. I was told you had some old files from a previous research project you did with Professor
Santos. I just wanted to look over it.”

“I see. Well, I remember having a faculty member help me save digital copies of it a few years
back.” Professor Kim suddenly looked over at Leon’s cubicle.

“Ah! Leon! There you are! Was it you who helped me scan those research resources with Santos?”

Leon shut his book down and smiles at the older faculty. “Yes, Professor.”

“Excellent! And do you know where you saved those files? The physical copies, I’m afraid, is with
Santos and she took them with her when she took her sabbatical.” He looks apologetic when he
looks back at Hilal. “I do believe you prefer looking at the physical copies.”

“Either is okay with me, Professor,” Hilal reassures.

“All right then. Leon, if you could be so kind and help Miss Hilal on this. I’m afraid I’m not as
tech-literate like my younger colleagues.”

“It’s all fine, Professor,” Hilal smiles. “Thank you for your help.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Kim says with a salute before going back to his cubicle.

Hilal remains standing and looks at him hesitantly. Leon smiles at her and stands from his cubicle.
“Come with me. I remember saving those files in a hard drive, and I don’t think anyone labelled
them since then.”

He motions her to follow.

“It’s a good thing the college started keeping digital back-ups of their research and other
paperwork. Too bad they had to implement it when I was a new hire,” Leon says, hoping to ease
Hilal’s tense attitude towards him.

He leads her to a small cubicle that contains a desk top computer and a copier. That space is meant
for communal use in case anyone wants to print things in multiples. It’s also where they keep some
of their old hard drives and CDs.

When he looks over his shoulder, Hilal is following him at a distance. This annoys him, but he
doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he pulls an old box that’s labeled “OLD FILES”. It contains
a lot of identical looking hard drives.

“This is it,” he says, smiling up at Hilal who remains expressionless. “We’ll have to look through
all these before we find the files you’re looking for.”

“Okay,” Hilal finally answers.

“Can you open up the desktop?” he asks, tilting his head to gesture towards the old computer.
Hilal wordlessly obeys and Leon starts picking out a few hard drives from the box.

Once the desktop was up and running, Leon plugs in one of the hard drives.

“Do you remember the file names?” Hilal asks as she opens a window.

“It should be labelled ‘Santos’,” Leon recalls and rests his elbow on the backrest of the chair she’s
sitting on. He watches her use the search box and typing ‘Santos’.

“So,” he starts. “How are you?” he asks. It’s pretty lame, but it seemed like a safe question to ask.
Regardless of how much Hilal has grown, she remains unpredictable.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she answers. He waits for any additional things she has to say but she
doesn’t. “It’s not here,” she concludes and safely removes the hard drive.

“Okay, then try the next one.”

They go through the same motions until they reach their fifth device. At this point, Leon had asked
her small questions which she replied with stale answers. Normally, Leon would give up if he knew
a person preferred not to talk, but this was Hilal. She wasn’t a stranger. She was…an acquaintance?
A childhood friend? Whatever she had been, she is more than just a stranger, and Leon is only
curious.

He's also a little frustrated that she’s not making it easy to ask her anything. It made him wonder
about anything that he’s done to offend her in any way.

“You,” Hilal says as she unplugs the hard drive after another bust. “You don’t have to watch me do
this.” She clears her throat. “You’ve shown me the hard drives and I can manage on my own.”

“I know you can,” Leon responds. “But do you seriously think I’m here to watch you type the
same word in the search box over and over again?”

“Don’t you have a class?” she asks, a little firmer and angrier.

Leon sneaks a look at the desktop screen. No, he doesn’t. He tells her as much.

“Why are you so adamant of pushing me away?”

“Why are you so adamant of staying when this clearly doesn’t benefit you?”

“Hilal, come on. I just wanted to have a conversation.” He sighs. “It’s been thirteen years, and I
honestly have never expected to see you again. Is it so bad to want to know how you’ve been?”

She looks at him. He’s forgotten how blue her eyes are. “I hardly think this is the right place for
that.”

He frowns. “How so?”

“I don’t want to seem unprofessional for being too friendly with any of the faculty.”

“You were chummy with Professor Kim just a few minutes ago,” he points out and she shoots him
a glare.

“It’s not here either,” she huffs and takes another hard drive from the box. “Are you sure you
remembered the right label?”
“No,” Leon says and he stubbornly looks at the desktop screen. He sees Hilal freeze in his
peripheral vision, realizing what he means.

She turns around in her chair and stares up at him. “Sir,” she grits out. “Do you remember anything
that can help find the files I’m looking for?”

Leon smiles at her. “I don’t. But since you can manage on your own, I’ll leave you to your task.”
He stands up and pretends to straighten his shirt. “I have a class to prepare for.”

He doesn’t mean to leave her like that, but it’s absolutely worth it to feel her basically seething at
his back. He returns to his cubicle and grabs the textbook he was reading and pretends to occupy
himself.

Truly, this isn’t how the reunion is supposed to go. But it isn’t entirely his fault. He hadn’t
expected for Hilal to act as if he’d insulted her. He remembers parting with her and her family all
those years ago with heartfelt wishes and he honestly cannot formulate an idea as to why Hilal
seems to hate him.

In retrospect, what he just did doesn’t help his case too much.

He peeks at where she is, and he could see her going through the pile they’ve initially gone
through. He kind of feels sorry, and maybe he’ll make it up to her for lunch or coffee later. A
traitorous voice in his head tells him, “As if she’d let you.”

Hilal is left in the faculty room when he leaves for his next class. When he comes back after a few
hours, she’s not there and the computer has been turned off. The box of hard drives has also been
returned to its place. He also notices that the hard drives have been labelled appropriately.

He doesn’t see her for the rest of the day.

Ali Kemal isn’t home when get there, which is perfectly normal considering the demands of his
job. He goes through the motions of washing up and making dinner for himself before settling on
the couch. If his mother could see him now, she’d lecture him about the uses of a dining table and
the difference between using a couch and a dinner table for eating. She isn’t here now, so Leon
eats his food without conscience.

He turns on the TV just so he wouldn’t eat in silence. He lazily browses through Ali Kemal’s
Netflix account and scoffs at his generic taste in movies. Of course, his detective roommate would
like B-rated cop movies. He chooses a documentary just because, and starts eating.

He suddenly thinks of his mother, and contemplates about calling her. He’s surprised at the
thought since he’d only normally call when she sends a message mourning about him forgetting
her and making her worry for her son. He also calls when she calls him herself.
He does try to call when he has the chance just to appease her and because he does love his mother.
He knows she takes comfort in learning about the recent things he’s been doing. He knows it’s
been especially lonely now that his father has passed away. He tells her about his research projects,
his classes and about some of the odd things is students does. He also tells her about his colleagues
sometimes, when they become overbearing. Unlike with Ali Kemal, he downplays them a bit just
so his mother wouldn’t be worried about the College overworking him.

She also always asked if he’s met anyone or if he’s been hiding a girlfriend from her.

“Or,” his mother said, in one phone call. “Could it be a boyfriend?”

“Mitéra!”

His mother had laughed and told him she loves him whichever preference he has.

Now he’s thinking of calling his mother and about telling her about Hilal. He’s sure she’d love to
hear about finding her again after all these years. She’d been very fond of Yildiz and Hilal back
then.

Although he’s not really sure what to say to her when he hasn’t talked to Hilal as much as he
wanted to.

He places his plate on the coffee table and takes his phone out anyway. His mother answers the
phone at the first ring.

“Leon! Kamari mou!”

“Geia sou, Mitéra,” he greets.

“This is a pleasant surprise, kamari mou. And here I was thinking of calling you myself.” His
mother laughs. “Or is it because you need something from me?”

“Mitéra, don’t tease,” he says. “I’m already calling, aren’t I?”

“Neh, neh, and I’m happy that you are. Now tell me why my busy son has decided to call me. Such
a rare occurrence it is.”

Leon rolls his eyes fondly even if she couldn’t see it. “Guess who I ran into today?”

“Kamari mou, it could be anyone. Is this someone we both know?”

“Neh, Mitéra. In fact, I’ve had the biggest suspicion you liked her more than me.”

“Could it be Nina?” she asks, referring to an ex-girlfriend who later broke up with him for another
woman. She was the only girl he introduced to his mother, and she was the only one she liked. “It’s
too bad you’re not her type,” his mother said to him when he told her about the break-up.

“No,” he says. “Didn’t I tell you Nina is back in England with her fiancée?”

“Oh yes. I remember you telling me she even invited you to their wedding.”

“Yes,” he just says. “Anyway, it’s not Nina.”

“All right then. Won’t you just tell me, Leon? You don’t have a lot of friends. At least, you don’t
tell me much about them.”
His mother loved to tease. “Hilal.” He finally says. “I saw Hilal today.”

There was a short silence. “Cevdet’s daughter? Hilal?”

“Neh, Mitéra. She started working in the same college.”

“That’s great! How is she? Have you talked to her?”

“She’s,” he starts, trying to find the right words. “She’s grown up, Mitéra.” He settles for his own
initial thoughts.

He hears her coo at the other side of the phone, no doubt remembering the shy little girl that always
tagged along her older sister. The little girl who always had a book too thick for her to read.

“Ah, Hilal, that sweet child. It’s good to hear that she’s doing well, if she’s working at the same
place as you are.”

“To be honest, I didn’t get a chance to talk to her that much,” he tells her. “It’s the first day of the
summer term, so it’s a little busy.”

“I see. She’s a teacher there too?”

“A research assistant,” he corrects. “She’s working closely with my department for a research
project.”

His mother coos again. “I’m not surprised she decided to go to that career path,” she laughs. “She
was very different from her sister and very similar with you. You two often talked about books, and
you helped her learn how to read.”

He chuckles, welcoming the memory of sitting closely beside her as she determinedly opened The
Magician’s Nephew despite not knowing the meaning of the longer words. He also had a
dictionary in hand in case he couldn’t explain what a word meant, being a child himself. “Yes, it
was both a surprise and not when I saw her.”

“You’ll talk to her, won’t you? I’m curious as to how she is, and how her family is. Did you get to
ask her about her parents?”

“No. Sorry, Mitéra.”

“It’s fine, kamari mou. You have time to talk to her. When you do, make sure to send my regards!”

“Neh, Mitéra, I will.”

The rest of the phone call was just reminiscing about those short years being neighbors with Hilal’s
family. The family had decided to move to Istanbul and Leon’s parents has heard little from them
as time passed. He remembers waving goodbye and watching their car drive away.

Yildiz had been crying that day and kept telling Leon that she’ll miss them, and that she’ll try to
write. Hilal had hugged each of them tighter and bid farewell softly. Leon had given them parting
gifts as well. Yildiz received a bracelet which Leon had bought at an antique store, and Hilal
received Plato’s Symposium.

“I don’t expect you to read and understand this right away,” he had told Hilal who was amazed by
getting a thick hard bound book more than anything. Her blue eyes were wide and shone so
brightly that it rivaled the sunny weather they had that day. Mr. Cevdet always called Hilal his
sunshine girl, and Leon had understood why.

“But I do hope that you get to read this one day, and the next time we meet, we can talk about it
like we used to do.”

Hilal just nodded and gave him another hug. It was surprising because Hilal wasn’t as liberal with
free with her touches as Yildiz was. Leon had welcomed it and hugged her just as tight.

Leon wonders now if Hilal ever got to read that book. Maybe he could ask her the next time he
sees him.

He bids his mother goodbye and he finishes his dinner (which has long gone cold).

The second day of classes are no better than the first. At least he doesn’t have an early morning
class to rush to.

He keeps an eye out for Hilal. He doesn’t know if she has a space in the college, or if she’s
required to report to the university physically. He still has the hope that he could see her.

He just enters the faculty room when a few minutes later, one of the administrative assistants came
looking for him specifically.

Carrie looks at him sympathetically and one look at her, Leon already knows what’s happening.
Carrie has been the one coming to relay messages and instructions from the Dean, and ever since
Tevfik came into office, Leon hasn’t had a break. He sends for Leon for the most minute tasks and
decisions, as if he had any authority over the college or his coworkers.

Sure, he has a good publishing record and he consistently gets a high SET score, but he was far
away from being a full professor. Not to mention, he wasn’t considered in all the previous
department chairperson nominations or other college administrative positions. Leon was pretty sure
that Tevfik just didn’t like him. For whatever reason, he doesn’t have the faintest clue.

He sighs and smiles at Carrie. “The dean needs me?” he asks unnecessarily.

“Yes, Professor,” Carrie says with a shrug. “I think it’s about Professor Kalde’s sick leave.”

“Alright, I’ll be there. Thank you, Carrie.”

He takes a moment to compose himself and prepares for the worse. He’s probably going to take up
some of Kalde’s load for the next semester. Sighing again, he grabs his blazer and walks to the
Dean’s office.

He knocks at Tevfik’s door and the man welcomes him in. Unsurprisingly, it is about Kalde’s load
for the next semester. Apparently, Kalde was advised to take the semester off just to monitor his
health and it left a few of his classes free.

“We’re going to have a departmental meeting on this soon,” Tevfik says. “But I thought it would
be nice to give you a heads up since I’ve been talking with your department Chair. She thinks
you’re the best to pick up some of his classes.”
“Others will be taking his other classes?” Leon asks.

“No, there might be a possibility to dissolve them since we have to take into consideration
everyone’s schedule. But we’re going to talk about lessening everyone’s load by cutting a few
sections and adding new courses.”

“I see, and have the classes been decided?”

“Again, that will be discussed in the meeting. I’m sending a memo about it soon.”

“All right then. Is there anything else, Dean?”

“That’ll be all for now, Leon. Thank you very much.” Tevfik smiles at him as Leon stands up to
leave. He nods at the man before stepping outside of the office.

He’s surprised to see Hilal just outside talking to Carrie.

“Hilal!” he greets and immediately walks up to her.

“Professor,” she greets back with a small nod. It was unnecessary to call him that, but seeing as
they weren’t alone maybe she saw it fit to. After all, she seems preoccupied with the fact that she
didn’t want people knowing of their acquaintance.

“Were you able to find the files you were looking for?” he asks.

She clears her throat. “Yes, I did.” Clearly, she is still a little angry at him for yesterday.

“You can use the printer over here, if you need it, Miss Hilal,” Carrie says, gesturing the printer at
her desk. “You’re also welcome to use the copier.”

“Thank you,” Hilal says with a smile. Leon wishes she could talk to him like that and he watches
her avoid him for the printer. He follows her there just because and ignores Carrie’s confused look.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, taking the initiative. “I meant to help, really.”

“It’s fine, Professor,” Hilal says, still not looking at him. “And in case you’re wondering, the files
were labelled ‘IDGAFA’.”

Leon smiles, now remembering the frustration that came with having to oversee the digitalization
of every research in the college. “Oh yes, now I remember.”

He sees Hilal roll her eyes and he perks at getting a reaction from her. “Seriously though, I
wouldn’t have done all that if you just talked to me normally.”

“I haven’t talked to you normally in years,” she points out, still focused on her work.

“Ah, so you to acknowledge the fact that we’ve been friends at some point. I thought you’ve
forgotten.”

She doesn’t say anything and begins printing the documents.

“Mitéra was asking about you.”

She blinks and looks at him finally. “Your mother was… You told her I was here?”

“Of course. She adored you and Yildiz. Still does, anyway. She was sad I didn’t have anything to
say.”

“Is she well?” she asks.

“Yes, she’s well. A little lonely, but well.”

“Is everything all right with your parents?” There was a frown on her face but she won’t look at
him still.

“Ah,” Leon straightens. Of course, they wouldn’t have known. “Baba passed away when I was
seventeen. Cancer.”

She’s silent and then she turns to him. Slowly, she looks at him in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He smiles softly and nods in acknowledgement. “Thank you. But it was a while ago. Mitéra has
been better and now she’s living in Athens.”

“I see. Will you send her my condolences?” she asks hesitantly. A little bit of the Hilal he knew is
peeking through and he smiles. Truly, even after more than a decade, she’s still the little girl he
knew.

“Of course.”

She smiles. It is small and barely a twitch of lips, but Leon didn’t miss it. She returns to her task
and Leon clears his throat.

“By the way, do you have anything to do later?” he asks and she tilts her head in confusion.

“Why are you asking Professor?”

“It’s like what I said yesterday. I’d like to catch up. My mother isn’t the only one curious about you
and your family.“

The documents have finished printing and Hilal doesn’t make a move to collect them. “I appreciate
it, Professor. But I’ll have to decline.” With that, she immediately takes the printed sheets and
walks away.

He sees her entering the board room adjacent to the Dean’s office.

Leon sighs.

“So, you two knew each other before?” Carrie asks.

He nods. “Yes. She was like a sister to me.”

“Hmm,” she hums. “Since you’re here Professor, Professor Kalde had me dig up some documents
for you. He said it was in relation to an email you sent him before.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Carrie.”

…
Leon has a plan.

For the rest of the week, he’s been trying to spark a conversation from Hilal. After the
conversation they had near the Dean’s office, he hasn’t tried asking her to accompany him to
coffee or a meal. Hilal was civil with him. She talked to him and answered his questions, when
necessary, but beyond that she didn’t really give him the time of day.

Leon doubted it has something to do with her insistence for professionalism. Hell, he was invited to
drinks during his first year with his co-workers, and there wasn’t a breach in professionalism the
next day at work. No, there is something else that’s bothering Hilal, and Leon wants to know why.

Asking her point blank turns out to be useless, and even small talk between co-workers didn’t cut
her standards.

No, Leon had to either give up or be creative. He’s never been known to give up…at least not that
easily.

That’s why he needed a plan. That plan was inspired by no other than his scruffy roommate, Ali
Kemal, who for once is home and not sleeping over at the precinct.

But of course, the first time Ali Kemal had to be home in more than a week would be when he
decides to bring someone home without telling Leon first. Leon ended up going back outside the
apartment once he saw more of his roommate than he wanted.

He rubbed at his eyes furiously, hoping to unsee his roommate bending a girl over the couch. The
couch that they had agreed not to sully once they got it. (It was a very expensive couch.)

The door opened and Ali Kemal had the gall to laugh at Leon’s predicament.

“Hey there, sorry about that. I forgot to text you.”

“Fuck you, Ali Kemal,” Leon grumbled, not wanting to look at his roommate.

“You’re welcome to join in,” Ali Kemal laughed and Leon wanted to punch him.

“Leave him be, Ali Kemal,” a woman’s voice said from behind his roommate. Ali Kemal was
pulled back inside and a woman with golden hair peeked out of the door.

“Sorry about that, Leon.”

“Eleni?!” Leon opened his eyes once he recognized that voice. He stood up to look at her. “Ali
Kemal?”

Eleni laughed. She was wearing Ali Kemal’s shirt and Leon’s brain involuntarily summons the
scene he had just witnessed. He did not need to know of the rose tattoo she had on her…side.

He had met Eleni during his undergrad years. She’s been in a few of his classes, and they
especially bonded over their Spanish class. He had introduced her to Ali Kemal a few years ago,
and they’d often talk behind Ali Kemal’s back in Spanish just to talk shit about him. The two liked
to argue a lot. And if Leon had to be honest, he has been blatantly ignoring the underlying sexual
tension those two were emanating.

“Desde cuándo?” he asked her in Spanish.

She hesitated and looked behind her shoulder where Ali Kemal was. “Hace un año.”
“Cómo? ¿Pensé que habías dicho que no era tu tipo?” he asked again.

“Él fue muy persuasivo.”

Leon groaned, unashamed at his immature expression of his frustration. “Look, I’m not going back
in there for a few hours. So, you guys can continue whatever you’re doing and air the place out.”

He looked over Eleni’s shoulder. “And you! I thought we said that the couch was off-limits!”

“You said no sex on it, not over it!” Ali Kemal shouted back.

“That’s not what we agreed on, and you know it!” He huffed in frustration. “Hablaremos más
tarde,” he said this to Eleni who was trying her best not to laugh at them.

“Okay, okay. We’ll talk later,” she said, already beginning to shut the door to his face.

“You guys are shameless; you should know that. Shameless!” He said before she shut the door
completely.

He ended up staying at a café for a few hours, furiously typing at his laptop. He doesn’t want to
admit it, but trying to burn a memory off worked as a good motivation to write. He practically got a
good part accomplished.

He received a text message on his third cup of coffee that it was safe to go back. True enough, Ali
Kemal and Eleni were dressed and all-sweet on the same couch they just defiled. There were a few
lit scented candles, and Leon wondered where they came from.

The living room and the kitchen smelled like pumpkin spice. It was better than the alternative,
really.

“Where did you get the candles?” he asked once he stepped inside.

“They’re the cheap kind they sell at the convenience store downstairs,” Eleni told him.

Leon hums and gets down to business. He has them explain themselves.

How could Leon have not noticed this for an entire year?

Apparently, those two have been sneaking around with an ‘arrangement’. They made sure not to do
it at Leon and Ali Kemal’s apartment for obvious reasons. It just happened to be Leon’s bad luck
that he caught them this one time they decided to do it there.

As they told him what was happening, Leon knew that their ‘arrangement’ would later blur into a
relationship. Which it did, unsurprisingly.

Eleni went to bed earlier than the both of them and Leon looks at his roommate quizzically.

“If you’re going to give me the shovel talk, then save it. I know that you won’t do shit,” Ali Kemal
said, waving him off.

“First of all, I’m not giving you the shovel talk because you know that Eleni can very well kick
your ass if she wanted to. But if you hurt her, then I’ll castrate you in your sleep. Second of all, do I
need to remind you that one time I completely obliterated you over that girl you were crushing on
years ago?”

“Goddamn, that was years ago. Maybe we should have another round just to update your
accuracy.”

“Seriously, though, you were never the one to be into relationships. You were never interested. She
wasn’t interested in them either.”

Ali Kemal shrugged. “I don’t know either man. Maybe you just wake up one day and think how
much you actually like spending time with a person. You annoy them to hell and back and for
some reason she finds its charming. I guess, we’re just weird enough to find those attractive enough
to be in a relationship.”

“And you two have been a thing, for how long?”

“A few months,” Ali Kemal shrugs.

“How the fuck did you get into a serious relationship before me?” Leon asked, laughing.

“You have pretty high standards, Papadopolous.”

Leon scoffs, “Eleni also has high standards for men, I just don’t know why she settle for less.”

“Fuck you,” Ali Kemal said, throwing a sock (a sock?) at him.

When Leon was lying in bed that night, he suddenly thought of what Ali Kemal said. Logically, he
knows that annoying a person (a girl, no less) wasn’t the right way to have someone talk to him. It
was childish and very much an Ali Kemal thing to do. He did try the Leon thing to do with
minimal resorts. Maybe he should try getting on Hilal’s nerves.

After all, the biggest reactions he got from her were the negative expressions.

He doesn’t know why he has this sudden urge. Maybe because it’s still hard to reconcile the gril he
knew before and the girl he sees now. He wants to know what happened between then and the
now, and how she’s become strong enough to glare him down when she could barely look him in
the eye all those years ago.

Maybe it’s because he realizes now that he missed her. He missed having a companion to talk to
about books, to talk about what they thought about what was written on the page and in between
the lines. He’s had people to talk in the past years. Hell, it’s what he does for a living. But it’s
different when you want to talk about a book just for sake of sharing your thoughts than for the
sake of debate and argument.

Hilal would argue, would ask questions, and would share her own thoughts (no matter how shy and
unsure she was), and would just listen as if everything he has to say was as important as the books
he read her. He wonders now if she’d be like that, if not more confident to argue with him.

He missed seeing her grow up. Now he doesn’t want to miss her becoming the brilliant person she
is meant to be.

And so, Leon Papadopoulos has a plan.

Leon leaves the departmental meeting with heavy shoulders. Sure enough, just as Tevfik told him a
few days before, he was going to be picking up some of Kalde’s classes. They’re dissolving some
of the sections just to make the load easier. But it doesn’t change the fact that Leon will have to
work on a new syllabus by revising Kalde’s. He’s never had to teach the subject before now.

He doesn’t have a class for the rest of the afternoon, but he’s reeling in the stress of it all. He’s
already updating his planner accordingly.

He doesn’t even see Hilal the entire day so he couldn’t put his plan into action. He decides to go to
pantry to get himself a cup of coffee. The coffee is shit but he sure needs the caffeine now. The
thought of coffee suddenly makes him think of Hilal, and how her parents made her and Yildiz
make a cup for everyone. He wonders now what Hilal thinks of the coffee here and whether it
tastes up to standard.

He pauses when he does see Hilal in the pantry. She’s pouring coffee on a mug when she sees him.

“Hello, professor,” she greets.

“Hi, Hilal,” he greets back. “I see you’re here for the coffee.”

“That isn’t coffee,” she says. He’s surprised at her scoffing tone. “That’s garbage and I don’t know
why it’s stocked in here.”

He laughs. “I don’t know really know why that is. We’ve changed coffee makers and coffee beans
for God knows how many times in the past years and the coffee still tastes like that.”

He hears Hilal chuckle, which makes him look at her. She’s sipping on her mug with a smile on her
face. She looks younger like that. Some of her bangs are spilling out of her head scarf, and upon
closer inspection, she looks as tired and stressed as he is.

It’s also his first time seeing her like this: her walls seem to be down and whatever other defenses
she has isn’t there. If this is how she is when she’s tired, then by all means, she should be tired
more often.

“I actually brought coffee from home,” she says. She motions to a thermos on the counter beside
her elbow.

“You bring your own and you don’t even share?”

“If I start sharing then I’ll have to start making coffee for everyone. That’s not in my job
description.” She rolls her eyes.

“Well, if I remember it correctly, your coffee is amazing.”

“Hm, that’s Yildiz’s coffee you’re remembering. I was only allowed to make coffee around the
time we left.”

“You use the coffee pot thingy, right?”

She nods. “Yes. You boil the coffee there.”

“I see. I would’ve loved to taste your coffee. Azize’s were the best.”

She hums. “Do you want some?” she asks tentatively.

He looks at her. “You’re going to share?”

She shrugs. “I made too much anyway.” She places her mug down. “Go grab a mug,” she orders
and Leon complies. For a second, he hears Azize through her and smiles at the older woman’s
influence. He grabs the mug he usually uses and hands it to Hilal who wordlessly pours only
halfway through.

Turkish coffee was always served in these small cups, he remembers. That’s because the coffee
was strong but it was very tasty. He accepts the mug Hilal is handing him, and she looks up at him
when their fingers briefly touched.

“It’s not as good as Mom’s, but it’ll do.”

“Anything is better than the coffee here,” he chuckles. “Thank you, Hilal.”

She looks away and grabs her own mug as he lifts the cup to sip. He’s already decided to like it if
there is the slightest chance the coffee wasn’t as good. (He meant it really, if Hilal’s coffee was the
slightest better than the coffee in the pantry, then he’ll take anything.)

He’s immediately taken back to the first time he’s taken a sip of coffee. It was at Cevdet’s home,
of course. They always had coffee at the ready to be served and once Leon was old enough to
appreciate the taste and smell of coffee, Azize asked Leon how he’d like his cup to be.

He didn’t know what to say, so he just said he liked it sweet.

The coffee was amazing to say the least.

And needless to say, that Hilal’s coffee was the same…to say the least.

“Hilal,” he starts. “This is the best thing ever.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Say that again with a straighter face.”

“I’m serious, it’s good. It’s really good, Hilal. Do you want me to jump or dance just so you
know?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s only coffee.”

“I literally had a Ratatouille moment.”

“A Ratatouille moment?” she asks, her tone with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah, you know when the food critic tastes the food and he’s transported back to his childhood? I
literally had that.”

Hilal just laughs. “That’s enough coffee for you, Professor Papadopoulos.”

“I am never drinking any other coffee again because of this. Do you understand, Hilal? You’re
responsible now, and you’ll have to be making me coffee every time I need it.”

Hilal just smiles and finishes her coffee. She slides the thermos towards him. “That’s all I’m
offering, so you better drink responsibly.”

“You’re too kind,” Leon cries.

She rolls her eyes at him again before washing her mug and leaving the pantry.
…

“Why are you smiling like that?” Ali Kemal asks him at home. “You’re happy and it’s a Monday.
You’re not happy on Mondays.”

“I had a good day, that’s all.”

“If you say so.”

…
 part 2

Leon doesn’t understand her. After that moment in the pantry, he thought he won’t need the stupid
plan of his. He thought that it was a sign that Hilal was finally softening up to him, and maybe, just
maybe, they could be friends. But after that day, she went back to her cold hardy self, avoiding him
and keeping it ‘professional’.

She also makes sure to make herself busy. She’d annotate readings, transcribe interviews, revising
papers, and doing other tasks she can help with.

It didn’t help that Leon had his own workload to complete. Classes were picking up, and since he’s
one of those teachers who give essay questions during exams and tests, he’s been reading and
annotating as well.

He finally gets to have his plan in motion though. Since he knows that some of the faculty gives
Hilal some tasks of their own, he decides to give her a few himself. He manages to get her email
address from Carrie and writes to her that he needs help in photocopying a reading material for his
students.

He asks for fifteen copies then waits an hour and tells her he actually needs ten more. He tells her a
few minutes later than he needed fifteen more.

She walks into the faculty room and walks to his cubicle with purpose. Her expression was tense,
but he could only think how cute she looks angry.

“Can I just confirm that you need forty copies in total?” she asks, raising her brow as if to
challenge him to change the number.

“Yes, forty copies,” he says with a smile. “Also, after that, if you’re not doing anything important,
can I ask you to return these books in the library?” He produces a short stack of books from the
corner of his desk. “Today’s the due date and I don’t have the time to do it since I’ve got back-to-
back classes later.”

She crosses her arms and looks at him suspiciously but takes the books anyway.

“Forty copies,” she says in finality.

“Forty copies.”

She leaves in a huff, her head scarf flowing behind her.

He smiles at the prospect of having her go to the library only to find out he only borrowed those
books yesterday. Too bad he won’t be able to see her face when she comes back to the office.

It’s evil, he knows, but he really wants to see how this plays out.

This goes on for a few days. He makes her do these menial tasks like preparing a presentation for
him, borrowing books from the library, scanning documents, and even getting her to proctor for an
exam.

She takes all these with no complaints despite freely showing him her displeasure in whatever this
is. Also, despite everything, she completes the tasks in high quality.
He’s surprised one day when she’s the one who approaches him first. He’s checking some papers
in his cubicle when she knocks softly on one of the wall panels.

“Hilal?” he greets, taking his reading glasses off. He’s almost afraid she’s there to reprimand him
for the tasks he’s been giving her. He recently made her look through the administrative files for
Kalde’s older syllabi from the previous years. (“All of the old syllabi?” she asked through gritted
teeth. “Yes, if that isn’t too much.”)

“It’s not my place,” she starts. “But I noticed something and I just had to point it out.”

“Sure, what is it?” Leon asks, already pulling a chair for her. She doesn’t even notice the chair, but
she does place a few papers on his desk. It’s the syllabi he’s asking for.

“There’s a part in every syllabus that discusses historiographies all over the world,” she says,
pointing towards each section in the syllabus containing the reading material and expected learning
outcomes. “There’s a discussion here on Islamic historiography,” she continues. “And as you can
see, Professor Kalde has been using one source consistently through the years.”

Leon reads the citation and frowns. “It’s pretty outdated, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Hilal agrees firmly. “I’ve come across this source before and it’s already been debunked.
There has been better resources and introduction materials for Islamic historiographies and I don’t
know if it’s a deliberate choice to include this here, or if it’s just a product of lazy research, but it’s
bad either way.” She huffs as Leon studies the material again.

“That’s epistemically violent,” she says, crossing her arms.

He looks up from the material and smiles. “Brunner, Alcoff, or Garbe?”

“All three plus Galvan-Alvarez,” she says it as if it should be an obvious fact. “Since you’re
revising his syllabus anyway, I thought to point this out.”

“Why? Because I’m a Greek cisgendered male and therefore you don’t trust me to give justice to
your people?” he teases, leaning against his chair.

She frowns at him, her big blue eyes starting to stare him down. “I’m not playing any cards here.”

He lets it go. “I would have noticed it, just so you know,” he says. “You might say that we deal
with outdated sources in philosophy, but I’m mindful of the fact that this is a historiography course.
And this,” he points to Kalde’s syllabus. “Is epistemically violent, to use that same term, to the
Islam community.”

She seems to relax at that.

“Thanks for pointing it out anyway, Hilal,” he says. “But I do admit, what I know of Islamic theory
of history and philosophy is limited. And since you’re well-versed in this, I’d appreciate it if you
could send me a list of sources I can read through.”

“Because you’re a white cisgendered male who specializes in Greek and Classical philosophy,” she
continues.

Leon doesn’t even try to argue, but he does smile. “Unfortunately, yes. And that is why I’m
humbly asking you to help this oppressor know better.”

She rolls her eyes and smiles. “I already have a list,” she says. “I’ll email them to you. Let me
know if you have any trouble finding copies, and I’ll gladly lend mine to you.”

“So kind, Hilal.”

Hilal rolls her eyes again and gathers the syllabi copies. “Do you still need these or should I
continue doing whatever it is you’re making me do?”

Leon shrugs. “I’ll just take the most recent syllabus and you can return the rest.”

She takes a deep breath, shuffles through the papers she has and slams the requested document on
his table. “Alright then, glad to be of help.”

He watches her walk out of the cubicle, loving the familiar sight of her head scarf catching up with
her angry gait.

Someone pokes their head out from one of the adjacent wall panels. He looks up to see his
coworker, Lucy, an English woman who specialized in feminist history and gender studies. She
also loves to assist (see: interfere) in his non-existent love life as if he didn’t get enough of that
from his mother. She was also their department chair, and the reason why he was taking on
Kalde’s classes for the next semester in the first place.

“Hello?” he greets.

“You know, you create this weird energy whenever you two are at it like that.” She places her arms
on top of the panel and leans her chin against them.

“I don’t understand the majority of what you just said,” he says.

“Do you really want me to explain it to you?” she asks, smiling teasingly.

“Stop it, Luce. You’re reading into it too much, maybe you should stop consulting your crystals for
a moment.“

She rolls her eyes but walks into his cubicle instead. “Leonidas,” she says it the same way a mother
is ready to begin lecturing a child. She leans against his desk and smiles with her teeth. “I’m not
reading into it too much, my dear. It just so happens that you’re just easy to read. And Hilal too.
Everyone’s noticed how you two act together, and it’s both cute and frustrating at the same time.”

“And how exactly do we act together?”

She smiles even wider. “Like children, really.”

He blinks and she laughs at his expression. “Like I said, it’s cute but it’s frustrating. It’s literally
like watching children you know who like each other but they don’t know it themselves.”

“’Like each other’? Lucy, she barely tolerates me. And we’re…friends?”

She sighs fondly. “So cute, but so frustrating. I would love to spell it out for you, darling but you’re
smarter than that.” She pats his cheek and has the audacity to squeeze. He swats her hand away.

“When will you stop doing that?”

“Don’t forget, dear, I’ve literally seen you as the fresh grad that you were. You’re always a child in
my eyes.”

She ruffles his hair and walks back to her own space.
Leon can only huff in frustration before turning back to his own work.

He receives a notification from his phone and sees that Hilal has already sent him the list. He
clicks at it immediately.

Professor,

Attached to this email is the list containing, in my opinion, the best resources for the Islamic
historiography portion. As I have said earlier, please let me know if you have any difficulty finding
copies.

Regards,
Hilal

Why does she write to him like this? It’s frustrating but he can’t help but smile.

Leon is not having a good day.

It was rainy the moment he woke up that morning. The windows had fogged over and the entire
apartment was cold. Their coffee maker conveniently decided to not work properly, and the lines at
the nearby cafés were atrocious.

He and Ali Kemal still waited in line because they’re both useless human beings without having
coffee in the morning. This is especially so since it was cold and everything felt uncomfortably
wet. The barista got their orders wrong but they decided to drink it anyway since they were
running late, and coffee was coffee. (Ali Kemal ordered an americano and he had a dark roast drip
coffee, but the barista gave them mochas. He has no idea how they managed to mess that up.)

Ali Kemal offered him a ride to the university which Leon was thankful for since he can’t imagine
commuting to work in this weather (and his increasingly grumpy mood). He had half an hour to
prepare for his class and he just decided to hide away in his cubicle with his mocha while lazily
browsing through his presentation slides.

(He didn’t want to admit that he felt a disappointed that Hilal wasn’t there. And he didn’t want to
admit that made him a little grumpier than necessary. She still wasn’t there when he left for his
class.)

Unfortunately, the presentation slides turned out to be useless since the power was suddenly cut
off. He wanted to continue the discussion without it only to find out that the majority of the class
didn’t do the assigned reading. He doesn’t feel bad for getting angry at them and dismissing them
early to read the chapter they were supposed to tackle that meeting. He doesn’t even feel good
about it since watching the students file out of the room with their metaphorical tail between their
legs only annoyed him further.

The day continues its unlucky streak as Leon receives an email from one of the academic journals,
he’s submitted an article to. He’s finished editing and revising the article to their standards and
criteria, but they’re now asking him to do a few more. They’re also expecting him to submit the
latest revision by the end of the week. It’s a Wednesday.

Despite the electricity coming back, he cancels the rest of his classes that day and makes sure that
the students understood that there would be a quiz for the next meeting.

He stands in for Lucy in a meeting with the Dean and the other department heads regarding a
proposal for a new Masters degree, and he has to endure three hours of discussing the course
sequencing and the faculty roster.

He dutifully takes notes for Lucy who fell sick the last minute to attend the meeting.

The coffee the Dean had distributed in the board room was the same as in the faculty pantry. It was
shit as usual and he wistfully wished he could have a cup of Hilal’s coffee again. (He had managed
to drink all of the coffee she gave him within an afternoon. Yes. It was that good.)

He’s reminded that he hasn’t seen her at all today.

They’re concluding the meeting when Tevfik raises something.

“Leon, do you require a TA?” he asks.

“A TA? No, I don’t think so,” he answers.

“Is that so? You’ve been asking Hilal to do a few tasks every now and then, I thought you’d need
some help on your own. After all, your work load for the next school year has increased. We could
get you a TA.”

A TA isn’t a bad idea, really. But Leon knows that he’s capable of working with his current load,
especially if Tevfik stops looking for him every single time he doesn’t want to do his job properly.

“Well, a TA is a good idea. But I don’t think I’m the one who needs it, sir,” he says, smiling
innocently at Tevfik.

The dean laughs. “You’re right, maybe I could hire a TA myself. But are you sure, Leon? Hilal is
supposed to be helping with the history project and while the faculty are welcome to ask for her
help, I don’t want her to be distracted while she works on the project.”

Leon frowns. Then why is he the only one Tevfik’s targeting?

“If you’re sure you don’t need a TA, then that’s fine, Leon,” Tevfik says and pats his shoulder. “If
there isn’t anything else that can be discussed, then, I’ll see you all again in the next meeting.”

He stands up and leaves the board room. He’s irritated with the fact that Tevfik had to single him
out like that, as if he especially made Hilal’s work difficult.

But didn’t he?

He did, didn’t he?

In his effort to pursue an idiotic plan to get Hilal to talk to him, he had inconvenienced her. Truly,
it’s no better than how Tevfik would bother him with minute tasks regarding the college. What’s
worse is that the entire college got a hint of it, they’ve had a front-row seat to the chaotic and
immature plan that is Leon making Hilal do more work on top of the tasks that is assigned to her.
Perhaps there is a point to Hilal’s insistence on professionalism.

He doesn’t notice Hilal when he passes by towards his own faculty room.

“Professor,” she calls, pulling gently at the sleeve of his jacket.

He turns and feels the irony. She drops her hands once he’s looking at her. “Hilal.”

She hands him a few books. “Here are the books you asked me to borrow from the library.”

He laughs. Oh yes, he did ask her to go to the library. Contrary to most of the tasks he had her do,
he actually needed these books. “Thank you.”

“Oh, and another thing.” Hilal slips off a small tote bag from her shoulder and hands it to him.
“Here are some of the books for the syllabus as well.”

He smiles at her and nods in gratitude. He makes a move to leave but she makes a step to block his
way. “Leon,” she says softly. “Are you okay?”

There’s a strange feeling that blooms in his chest whenever she calls his name. She doesn’t call
him that often, and it should sound strange when she does but it doesn’t. Instead, he wishes she
could call him by his name every time.

“Yes, I’m okay,” he says. “Just a bad day.”

Hilal has always been small, even now that she’s grown, she barely reaches his chin in height. He
has to tilt his head down just to look at her properly and she always has to look up at him just so she
could glare at him in full force. But now she looks up to him with her big blue eyes looking soft
and gentle. He has always loved how her eyes never betray whatever she’s feeling.

Her eyes a sharper blue when she’s angry.

It is a calm sea when she’s happy and content.

It is a dull reflection when she’s sad.

Now it’s glassy like the streaks of blue on porcelain. He doesn’t know what she’s feeling now to
make her look at him like that.

“Okay,” she nods and looks away. “I hope it gets better.”

He smiles. “I hope so. Thank you, Hilal.”

He doesn’t see how her stare continues to linger on him even when he’s walking away.

When he goes home that evening and opens the tote bag, he’s surprised that there’s another
thermos with the books she’s lending. He knows what’s inside, but he twists it open just to make
sure.

Leon almost cries to confirm that it’s coffee.

…

He decides to let that horrible plan go. He knows Hilal has enough on her plate as it is, and the
plan didn’t seem to work anyway. He doesn’t give any more tasks to Hilal and greets her when he
sees her. He’s been seeing her more often than usual now and he wonders at this.

She seems to be working in the faculty room now that she’s working closely with Kim. He doesn’t
interfere with their discussions, but lets their voices be background noise as he works on his paper
and as he grades some submissions.

They end one of their discussions as the lunch hour arrives and Leon takes the opportunity to return
the two containers she gave him for coffee.

“Hilal,” he calls as she stands up from Kim’s cubicle. He motions for her to come closer and she
does so. “Thank you for the coffee,” he says and handing her the same tote bag she used for the
books. (He’s still reading through them and he might be a little slow at it as he marvels at Hilal’s
written annotations on the margins of the book pages. She switches between English and Turkish
and he finds it so adorable.)

“Oh,” she says and takes the tote bag. “Thank you.”

He smiles in acknowledgement and sits back down on his chair.

Hilal clears her throat. “Professor,” she starts. “Do you need me to do anything for you?”

Leon shakes his head. “There’s no need, Hilal. You’ve been a really great help these past few
weeks.”

He smiles at her and she looks at him with a small frown. He wants to run his fingers between her
eyes. “Can I do anything for you?” he asks instead.

She stares at him a little longer before shaking her head. “No. I don’t need anything. Thank you for
returning these, Professor.”

As usual, he watches her leave, always entranced with her head scarf swaying behind her.

It becomes a routine for the next few days. Hilal would be at Kim’s cubicles during his office
hours and Leon would be there preparing for class. She’d ask Leon if there’s anything he’d like her
to do and he’d always say no with a smile. He doesn’t know why she looks disappointed every
time.

It’s a Saturday, and for once Leon feels like he can enjoy the day without having to do any work.
The summer term only lasts a couple months and he’s happy that it’s only a few weeks before it
ends. He’s ahead on grading papers, and he’s already submitted the revised syllabi for checking.
He decides to take walk around the city for a while, and perhaps find a good place to sit down,
drink coffee, and read a book.

He dresses in comfortable clothes and leaves Ali Kemal in the apartment. His roommate had a late
night on a case and only came home in the early hours of the morning.

He first gets coffee at his usual place, (the barista gets his order right this time) and walks around
until he finishes his coffee. He visits a bookstore and browses through the new titles. The person
who mans the counter always alerts him of new books that Leon might like to read. Leon has been
visiting this place for ages since he moved into the city and by now the attendant knows the kind
of books and textbooks he’s looking for.

He leaves the bookstore with a new book on classical feminism. (He doesn’t think about the fact
that he has so many unread books at his own library at home. He’s started reading all of them, but
he hasn’t gotten around completing them. He also doesn’t think about the books Hilal lent him,
which he has finished reading and remains to be on his bedside table.)

He wants to head to one of his usual places to hang out when he hears his name being called
somewhere. He looks around and is instead met with someone crashing into him, and arms
wrapping around his torso.

“Leon! It really is you!”

The person lets him go and although it’s been more than a decade, he recognizes her immediately.

“Yildiz?!” he gasps as he takes in the matured features of the girl he used to do homework with on
a kitchen table. Yildiz is taller but she still has to look up to meet his eyes. Her cheek bones more
pronounced than before and her eyes are sharper in shape. Her dark brown hair is long and falls
effortlessly wavy. He had thought she was pretty before, but now Yildiz has grown up to be a
beautiful woman. He hugs her again and she laughs as she returns it.

“It’s been so long!” he says and lets go of her again just to ensure he isn’t dreaming. “I can’t
believe it’s you!”

She laughs again. “I couldn’t believe it either, when Hilal told me she saw you again!” She turned
around to pout at her sister who happens to be a few steps away, watching the reunion. “She’s a
killjoy and wouldn’t tell me anything so I had to come here myself.”

That earns an indignant huff from Hilal who just crossed her arms at her sister. Leon chuckles. “If
it’s any consolation, she wouldn’t tell me anything about you as well.”

“Unacceptable!” she gasps and looks at her sister with mild horror. “We’ll ratify that immediately.
Since I am new to this city, you’re responsible to show me the best spots for coffee and tea.” She
hooks her arm around Leon’s and begins to walk. “Come along, Hilal!”

Leon looks behind them to find Hilal following begrudgingly. He spares her an apologetic look.
Apparently, Yildiz is as charismatic if ever, if not more so now.

He leads them to a café that he’s sure Yildiz would like. It’s a rose themed café that Eleni had him
go with her at some point, and he remembers her remarking how it’s a good place to go on dates.
She likes to think she was helpful, but Leon has never taken a girl out on a date in the café. The
food and drinks were good, but it was way too flashy for his taste.

It’s just right for Yildiz who immediately marves at the flower-ladened interior. There are flowers
hanging from the ceiling, cascading down like a natural curtain within the establishment. He
catches Hilal looking in awe as well, no doubt she has never gone here before.
They sit at a table next to a big window where there was is view of a small rooftop garden.

Yildiz looks very satisfied with his choice and he’s happy to have obliged her. It was easy to make
Yildiz smile, Hilal is a different case.

Yildiz orders a pot of hyacinth tea and a butterfly pea flower latter for Hilal who just accepts her
fate. Leon isn’t afraid to order a matcha latte. But to be honest, he is slightly intimidated with the
unknown drinks available and he just orders the most familiar thing there is. He has a suspicion
that Hilal accepts the drink his sister ordered for her because she’s the same. Yildiz adds a plate of
butter cookies.

“So,” Yildiz says once the waiter goes away with their order. “Hilal tells me you’re a professor
now. She’s only told me that much.”

Leon nods, feeling a little embarrassed that Hilal talks about him even if a little. “Yes, I teach
philosophy.”

Yildiz huffs amusingly. “That doesn’t surprise me a bit. You were always into your books, and
reading all these weird and hard to read books. You never ran out of lines to quote me.”

“It paid off, I guess. I was supposed to go into Law, actually. That’s why I took philosophy.”

“Ooh, like Mr. Papadopoulos. How is he doing?”

“Yildiz,” Hilal warns gently.

“It’s fine,” he says this to Hilal who looks at him worriedly. “Baba passed away years ago.”

“That’s terrible!” Yildiz gasped. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! Why didn’t you tell me?” she says
the last bit to Hilal.

“It’s okay, Yildiz,” Leon says to spare Hilal from answering. “Like I said, it happened years ago
and we’re all doing okay now.”

“Poor Veronika!” Yildiz sighs. “Is she doing well?”

“Yes, she’s in Athens now and she calls every now and then. I did tell her about Hilal and she
wishes you both well.”

Yildiz perks up at this. “Oh, you have to give me her number so I can call her myself! Yakup is
sure to let me go to Athens if I ask him.”

“Yakup?” Leon questions.

“Yildiz’s husband,” Hilal answers for her sister. “He’s from the military. She met him through
Baba.”

“And he’s the best!” Yildiz says and extends her hand towards Leon to show off her wedding band
and her engagement ring. “We’ve been married for two years now and I’ve never been happier.”

Leon examines the ring out of courtesy and he has to say that the ring suits her. The engagement
ring had a pretty big diamond. “That’s really great Yildiz. I hope he’s everything you dreamed
about and more.”

Yildiz pinches his cheek. “Thank you. You’re as sweet as ever, Leon!”
Leon swats her hand away gently.

The waiter comes with their drinks not long after, and Yildiz moans at how good the servings were.
She insists on switching drinks just to see how everything tastes and the café gets more of her
approval as she takes a sip from both Leon’s and Hilal’s drinks.

Leon has to admit they were pretty tasty, although he still can’t reconcile the fact that the two
drinks were flower-based.

Yildiz tells him more about their family and how they’ve been these past years. Cevdet and Azize
were well and were staying in Izmir after they both retired. “And imagine, they stay there for a
year and then the next thing we know, they tell us that Mama was pregnant. Hilal was 17 and I was
21 and we were going to have a brother!”

He watches Yildiz bring her phone out and she begins sharing him photos of their younger brother,
Mehmet from when he was a baby to now that he’s seven. “He looks like a carbon copy of Azize,”
he comments and coos at one particular photo where the boy is perched on Hilal’s lap with the
biggest smile.

“He is!” Yildiz agrees and hides her phone away. “I wish you could have met him, he’s so
energetic.”

“Stubborn too. He may look like Mama, but he’s as headstrong and playful as Baba,” Hilal adds.

Yildiz dominates the conversation as she tells him about meeting her husband at the hospital she
works in. She tells him how he obviously tripped and fell on his already fractured arm even when
her father was helping him stand. Leon liked seeing Yildiz this carefree and happy.

Even Hilal kind of looked amused watching her sister recall a few memories. It reminded him of
back then when they’d have snacks together and Yildiz would recount the day’s event to either his
mother or Madam Azize. Leon would add a few things and Hilal would only smile and agree when
prompted.

Soon, Yildiz excuses herself for the bathroom and Leon is left with Hilal at the table. The table is
suddenly silent without Yildiz to carry the conversation.

“Your sister never changed, has she?” he asks.

Hilal smiles softly, “I wouldn’t say that. She was overbearing and frankly quite annoying as a
teenager. But ultimately, the good parts of her stayed.”

“That’s kind of you to say. I kind of thought that you didn’t like her back then,” Leon teases,
remembering the way young Hilal would huff and groan at her older sister whenever she
encouraged or pushed her into doing things.

“Clearly, you didn’t know me as well as you thought,” she remarks, playfully raising a brow.

He hums. “You wouldn’t talk to me even if I tried,” he says. “I think you hated me just a little.”

“I didn’t,” she says. “You were new. And I’ve never had someone like a brother figure before.”

“And now?”

“Hm?”
“Is that why you still won’t talk to me?”

She stops playing with the teaspoon she’s been preoccupied with for the last hour. “When have I
ever not talked to you?”

He sighs. “You won’t talk to me at work just because you want to be professional. Stonewalling
isn’t professional.”

“You’re one to talk,” she says. “You’ve been avoiding me lately.”

“I stopped annoying you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Professionalism?”

She glared up at him. “You were making me do those to annoy me?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“You’re a child,” she tells him. “You would deliberately give me more work just to get me to talk
to you? How did you come up with that logic?”

“It’s stupid, I know. That’s why I stopped.”

“And then you don’t talk to me even when I was the one already approaching you?” she scoffs.
“What do you want?”

Hilal is looking at him with frustration, her eyes an icy blue. He should be scared or at least
embarrassed, but the answer is automatic.

It’s odd that he doesn’t have to think too long about the answer to that. The speed of the thought
popping in his mind is enough to alert him of the weight of it, and he doesn’t really know how to
carry it.

Her stare bears on him and he knows she’s not pleased with him. And yet he keeps thinking of how
beautiful she is. Her eyes threaten to freeze him over and yet the answer to her question echoes in
his mind.

You. I want you.

It isn’t her eyes that freeze him, it’s the realization that there were deeper feelings involved in his
intentions towards Hilal. To someone who he has seen as a younger sister for the better part of his
life. It’s the confusion that makes him question his own knowledge of himself. How has he not
seen this before? How has he not seen the weight of her value to him? How has he not seen
something so important, something so blatant?

Yildiz comes back and she notes the angry atmosphere. “What’s this? Hilal, what did you say
again?”

Hilal frowns at her sister. “Why do you always think it’s my fault?”

“You have a penchant for trouble, dear sister,” Yildiz says. “And besides, Leon’s too polite to say
anything offending.”

Hilal scoffs. “Then you won’t mind if leave now. I’m obviously causing trouble.”

“Hilal,” Yildiz groans. “Please. Can’t we just enjoy the afternoon?”

“I have things to do. I’ll see you back home, Yildiz,” Hilal says in finality and leaves.
Leon wants to go after her and probably apologize but Yildiz places a hand on his arm. “Leave her.
She needs to cool off whenever she gets angry.”

“She’s developed a temper,” he comments.

Yildiz laughs. “Being left alone to help care for Mehmet for a few years will do that I guess.”

Leon nods. “She’s changed so much from being that shy girl I knew. It’s almost giving me
whiplash.”

Yildiz pats his arm. “She has always had that temper; she was just more subdued whenever you
were around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know,” she smiles teasingly. “Hilal is known to wear her heart on her sleeve. She just
has this horrible way of expressing every emotion through anger.”

She laughs when she sees his obvious confusion. “Of course, you don’t know. You never noticed
it. But we did. Mama, Baba and me always teased her about it and she’d deny it even if it was so
obvious.”

“Noticed what?”

Yildiz laughs again and reaches to pinch his cheek. “Hilal will kill me if I tell you, but I’m telling
you anyway.” She excitedly leans towards him. “Hilal had a crush on you.”

Leon blinks and takes a few seconds to take in the revelation. Hilal had a crush on him? When they
were kids?

Yildiz is certainly amused by this and Leon has forgotten how relentless she is in her teasing. Even
when they were kids, she had him and Hilal on her streak.

“It was the cutest thing ever. Whenever she didn’t want to do something, I only had to tell her that
you were coming along or that you’d be disappointed if she didn’t do it. She’d eat it right up and
do anything. She was really happy whenever you’d read with her, and she wouldn’t stop carrying
that book you gave her when we left.”

He honestly doesn’t know how to respond to that. Any other person would probably shrug, smile,
and comment about how adorable a childhood crush is, but Leon is just reeling from the realization
of his own feelings to properly react to the revelation of Hilal liking him back then.

It really isn’t good timing and it doesn’t do any good. But he tunes it out and listen to Yildiz
anyway. She talks and he listens. She talks enough for the both of them, and she talks as if there
wasn’t thirteen years separating them. He appreciates it really, because at least he can delay
confronting his feelings for a while.

He walks Yildiz home and although she invites him in for a coffee, he declines (the thought of a
cup of Turkish coffee makes him pause though). He doesn’t want to see Hilal at the moment, for
the reason that he needs to figure himself out before seeing her. Who knows what kind of upheaval
his mind and feelings will create when she’s so close yet so far away?

“Let’s do this again soon, Leon! And give my regards to your mother, okay?” Yildiz says as she
walks up to the apartment she shares with her sister.

“Yes, I will,” he says and leaves too.

His mother answers on the first ring as usual.

“Leon, kamari mou. You’ve been calling more these days.”

“Hello to you too, Mitéra,” he greets.

She laughs. “Of course, I’m happy to hear your voice, Leonidas. Now, why have you called?”

He tells her about meeting Yildiz and Hilal. She’s ecstatic to hear that Yildiz is doing well and that
she’s married. But no matter how excited he makes himself sound, nothing gets past his mother.

“Leon, is everything okay?”

“Of course, Mitéra, why wouldn’t it be?”

“You sound off. Have you been taking more hours at work again?”

“No. Work is good. I’ve been taking it easy.”

“Leonidas, you tell me right now what’s bothering you or I will not hesitate to take the next flight
out of Athens to ask you there myself.”

Leon sighs. He knows his mother and he knows she’ll act on her words. As much as he misses her
and wants to see her, he does not want her to come storming in the middle of his classes and pull
him by the ear just so he could talk to her.

“Mitéra, did you know that Hilal used to have a crush on me when we were kids?” he asks instead.

His mother is silent for a beat, probably stunned at the sudden question. “Well, yes. It was quite
obvious.”

Leon wants to groan but he doesn’t, and swallows the urge. “Mitéra, I think,” he starts. Trying to
find the words. “I think I’m in love with her.”

Again, his mother is silent. “Hilal?”

He clears his throat. “Yes.”

“Oh, agori mou,” she soothes. “Then why are you sad?”

“I think I’m confused, Mitéra. Or maybe I don’t know how to face it. I’ve only realized it and I just
don’t know.” He pulls at his hair and wonders what his mother thinks of him now. “It’s weird
because I’ve been in love before. But it didn’t feel like this. It feels,” he pauses. “It feels hopeless.”

“Oh, Leonidas. Why is it hopeless?”

He laughs deprecatingly. “I don’t know. Is it pathetic that I don’t understand anything I’m feeling
right now?”

“It’s not pathetic, moro. It’s okay if you don’t understand it, you’re not obligated to understand it
right away no matter how smart you think you are.”

“What do I do, Mitéra?”

“Well, after this call, you’re going to take care of yourself by drinking a glass of water, go read a
book, and go to sleep. You need to rest and hopefully you won’t feel as overwhelmed. You have all
the time in the world to understand your feelings.”

He nods even if she doesn’t see it. She knows he understands her. “I’m not overreacting, am I?”

“Of course not, moro mou. Don’t you ever think that whatever you’re feeling is too much for
anyone to handle. And besides, you’ve been through much worse.”

He can’t help but smile at that. “Thank you, Mitéra. I’ll talk to you again. S'agapó.”

“Ki ego s'agapó, kamari mou. Rest well.”

He does as he’s told and the next morning when he wakes up, he feels a little less desolate than
yesterday.

The first girl Leon fell in love with was Emma. He met her during his undergrad years when they
found themselves in almost the same gen ed classes despite studying different majors. She was in
the Humanities studying fine arts, and they bonded over Greek culture when they decided to pair
up for a class project. They hung out a few times even after the project was done.

He eventually asked her out and she said yes.

In the eyes of a first love, she was perfect. She listened to him talk and recite random quotes and
passages from his favorite books. She always reminded him to take breaks whenever he’d get into
a focused research zone. She took care of him despite having to deal with the side effects of her
own hormone therapy. She was brave, she was smart, and she was just perfect.

He liked to think he treated her with the same respect and care that she deserved. He knew she
liked it when he’d be free with his touches, when he’d give her random notes and gifts that she’ll
find wherever, when he’d take care of her in return when she’s particularly feeling down.

He knew that he loved her and that he enjoyed every second with her.

It ended when it was clear that they wanted different things. Leon knew he wanted a family
eventually and Emma had expressed the contrary. He wasn’t discouraged when he learned of this
and loved her all the same. He held the hope that she’d change her mind at some point, or that he’d
be satisfied and content with spending time with her. He respected her decision and she didn’t
rebuke him for his. But it was clear, the longer they dated that there neither was going to change
what they wanted. After dating for more than a year, their relationship had dwindled to somewhat
of a friendship. She eventually transferred out.

He manages to talk to her every now and then. Last he heard from her is that she’s part of the
research team in a museum and is married to a linguist. They have no kids.

The kind of love he’s feeling for Hilal isn’t the infinite feeling he remembers having during the
first days of being in love. He didn’t lie when he told his mother that the love he feels is hopeless.
He can’t help but believe that there is hopelessness in the situation when there are so many factors
that make it seem so.

It’s only been a few months since he’s seen Hilal after more than a decade. There shouldn’t have
been any chances for love like this evolve in that short amount of time, in the few chances they
were able to speak. It shouldn’t have been possible when he’s always seen her as a younger sister
before. How could feelings of familial adoration turn into this?

He’s never expected to be confronted with feelings this magnanimous for an old friend. He feels
conflicted about the entire thing. He feels elated that he’s able to love again. But he also feels
guilty for even falling in love with her. It’s because she’s Hilal that he feels guilty. He taught her
how to read. He watched over her with Yildiz when their parents weren’t around. He held her hand
when she crossed the street.

He realizes now that it’s difficult for him to separate the Hilal of the past and the Hilal of the
present. He knows that objectively, they’re not the same person. There’s a lifetime separating those
two entities and he knows that he only cares for the entity that she was. The only connection they
have is that of what they were when they were children. Take that away and they’re not anything.
They don’t even have a strong foundation for any kind of relationship besides being acquaintances
and maybe that’s why it feels hopeless. Take that way and they’d just be two strangers.

He's cursed into always seeing Hilal for who she was as a child, and not who she is. He’ll always
be comparing her to her old self and he knows that isn’t fair.

Everything feels in reverse with Hilal. With every relationship that he’s been in, they had the
advantage of having clean slates. There is no prior knowledge of who they used to be but an urge to
know the person that they are. There is no need to deconstruct an image of a person who’s been
stuck in time in his mind. There is only planning on what kind of future they could build together.

With Hilal, it’s making an entire house collapse and having to pick up the pieces to build it back up
again. He has no blueprints. He is no architect. He is no builder.

He doesn’t know how and where to begin. He’s just a man in love. His only hope is to be let in
when he knocks on the door to her house. Or perhaps he should start looking for the courage to go
up to her door and knock.

He doesn’t feel as desolate as he did the previous night. The hopelessness is still there, but his
mind and his heart are settled on acceptance.

He’ll take whatever scraps is given to him and hopes it fades with time. Like with Nina, and with
Emma.

…
Hilal doesn’t come to work at the college the following week. Something in his mind tells him that
he might have something to do with that, but he knows it’s just him being paranoid about having
done Hilal offense.

He doesn’t ask around for her and goes on his week like usual. Despite the thoughts of one blue-
eyed girl occupying his thoughts, he manages to go on his days without difficulty. He teaches his
classes, grades his papers and performs his duties with steadfast focus. It doesn’t stop him from
expecting her to walk by with her head scarf fluttering behind her. It doesn’t stop him from trying
to hear if it’s her voice talking in the background. It clearly doesn’t stop him from looking for her
and wanting to know where she is and whether she’s mad at him completely.

Leon almost laughs at his own pining. Has he always been this awful at it?

The week passes without fanfare and no signs of Hilal. Ali Kemal manages to pick up on his mood
despite being pre-occupied with another case.

“Did you break up with someone?” Ali Kemal asks the night Leon comes home.

“No,” Leon answers, not elaborating any further as he sits on the couch.

“Did some girl break your heart again?” his roommate pushes and sits down beside him.

Leon doesn’t say anything and Ali Kemal nods in understanding. “Alright, who is she and how
have I only heard of this girl?”

At first Leon doesn’t want to say anything because he’s not technically anything with Hilal. He’s
also embarrassed that he’s so worked up about a one-sided love. He’s also never known Ali Kemal
to be good at talking about feelings since he knows his roommate has an awful habit of running
away when emotions get too overwhelming.

But he looks at his roommate and gives him the benefit of the doubt. He tells him about Hilal,
about how they met years ago as children, about finding her again at work, and finally realizing his
own feelings for her.

After everything, Ali Kemal has had a few cans of beer and Leon feels a little drained recounting
everything. Ali Kemal whistles and drains the rest of his beer.

“I think you’re overthinking this,” Ali Kemal says. “And you haven’t talked to her about this too,
so you really might be overthinking this.”

“You’re a great help. Really, you are,” Leon scorns.

“No, I’m serious. You have a tendency to overthink things that shouldn’t be. For instance, you took
that furniture hunting for your office seriously. You took my words as advice despite the fact that it
wasn’t meant to be. And now you’re being a defeatist. You may have a point in all your doubts,
but you said so yourself. Hilal is a different person and you’re still making assumptions about her
based on what you knew of her before.”

Ali Kemal reaches out to ruffle Leon’s hair. It’s something his roommate liked to do once he found
out he was a year older. He’s only ever done it as a reminder of his meager superiority in age. This
time, though, Leon appreciates it, especially since he knows that Ali Kemal has a point. He
playfully swats Ali Kemal’s hand away.
“You’re actually smarter than you look,” Leon comments.

Ali Kemal scoffs. “You’ve rubbed off on me apparently, Plato.”

Leon only rolls his eyes. “Since you’re so wise, you think I should talk to her?”

Ali Kemal laughs. “You’re so used to girls listening to you rant about your dead thinkers that you
don’t know how to actually talk to them. Yes, I think you should talk to her. But!” His roommate
straightens his posture and looks at Leon dead in the eye. “Women are complicated, remember
that, Leon. It’s best if you handle this their way. It’s their way or no way at all.”

Leon frowns. “And the way here is?”

“If Hilal doesn’t want to talk to you, or at least doesn’t feel comfortable to do so just yet, then give
her space. I have a feeling she’s sorting out her own thoughts. You’re not the only one who has to
meet a childhood friend after not seeing them for more than a decade.”

Leon has to admit, he’s impressed. “Goddamn, Ali Kemal, since when have you been a
wisecrack?”

His roommate rolls his eyes. “You’re book smart, but I’m street smart. You’re all theory, and I’m
practice.”

“Hence why you punch first and talk later.”

“Exactly. Now can you not be so stupid so we can go back to our usual dynamic? I don’t like being
the smart and responsible one here.”

“I really have no idea what Eleni sees in you.”

Ali Kemal scoffs. “Joke’s on you, she doesn’t know either.”

Leon asks Carrie where Hilal’s desk is. She leads her to a space near the board room where a small
but wide desk is. For some reason, he knows it’s predictably Hilal’s. There are books and papers
arranged on one of the corners of the table, colorful tabs and sticky notes poking out of the pages.
There’s a small stack of carefully labeled notebooks. Her desk calendar is also riddled with notes
and dates of importance scribbled on with a Sharpie.

He thanks Carrie and places a stack of books on her desk next to the computer. He thinks of
leaving a note, but isn’t really sure what to say. He wants to thank her for the book
recommendations for the syllabus and ask her to coffee just to thank her properly. But he’s mindful
of Ali Kemal’s advice this time and decides to scribble a simple thank you on one of her post-it’s.

He's not really sure how to face her after realizing the depth of his feelings either. He thinks it’s a
small mercy that she isn’t there yet (or if she’ll ever be again) but when he turns to leave for his
own desk, Hilal is entering the room and stops when she sees him.

“Professor,” she greets.

“Hilal,” he acknowledges her as well. “Sorry, I was just dropping by the books you lent me for the
syllabus. They’re a very enlightening read.”

“Oh,” she says, eyeing the short stack of books he’s placed on her desk. “Thank you. I’m glad you
found them so.”

He nods and is ready to excuse himself. “Leon,” she calls before he leaves.

It’s Leon, and not ‘Professor’.

“I’m sorry for last weekend,” she says. “I didn’t mean to leave like that. It was a little rude.”

“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me, Hilal. You did have a point.”

“Yes,” she says but shakes her head. “But you’re not. Childish, I mean.” She doesn’t say anything
more and refuses to meet his eyes.

“Okay. Thank you for that,” he smiles at her.

She looks at him tentatively. “Yildiz had me thinking,” she says it as if she’s in pain just saying it.
“And I should tell you that it’s a rare thing to happen because most of the time Yildiz just makes
me what to claw my eyes out.”

Leon inwardly laughs at the thought of Yildiz annoying her sister until Hilal decides to storm out
of the room in fury.

“I was acting childish too,” Hilal says. “I’ve had a lot of thinking over the weekend and I’m sorry.
For being unkind to you when all you’ve been anything but.”

“You call those weird things I made you do unkind?” he asks because he couldn’t help himself.

Hilal smiles and rolls her eyes. “Not unkind. Childish.”

“I thought you just said that I wasn’t.”

“You’re not. What you did were childish acts, but does that make you a childish person?”

He’s already been smiling all this time, and he barely feels it when his smile goes bigger.
Goddamn.

“All right, then, what childish acts did you commit?”

She smiles. It’s a little sharper than he’s used to, as if she’s about to say something incriminating.
“Maybe we can talk about that over coffee?”

Leon blinks. Did he just hear what he just heard? Is he hearing it right? “Coffee?”

Hilal smiles wider. It scares him a little, but it’s the biggest he’s seen her wear. “Yes, Professor.
You asked me before if I was free for coffee. I have time.”

Oh. Oh.

Holy shit. Is Hilal…is she flirting with him right now? Where the fuck did she learn to do that?
He’s not really comprehending much if he has to be honest with himself.

Apparently, it shows because Hilal looks very amused by all this.

“O-okay,” he manages and feels mortified for sounding absolutely pathetic. “We’ll talk later.”

“Sure,” Hilal nods. “I’ll see you later. I know your schedule.”

“Of course, you do.”

She hums. “Thank you for the books. And…” she looks shy again all of a sudden. “I left something
on your desk.”

“Will you tell me what it is?” he asks.

“That should be obvious to you.”

She gives him one last smile before sitting down on her desk, already setting off to work. He
returns to his own cubicle and true enough, there’s a small thermos on his desk. Leon laughs.

Of course. It should have been obvious.

“There’s a change in the air today. Do you have any idea why that is, Leonidas?”

“Lucy, seriously.”

“I’m just asking. The atmosphere in the college seems to be lighter, is all.” She leans closer to him.
“I caught Hilal humming in the pantry, just now.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, Lucy. She’s allowed to.”

She squeezes his cheek. “Of course she is. But you know what I think, I think the children have
finally grown up.”

“There are students lining up outside to have an appointment with you, can you please attend to
them before they start bothering everyone in the faculty?”

She tuts. “I want an invitation to the wedding, okay?”

The last class of the day ends with little fanfare. Despite it being one of the last meetings for the
summer term, everyone in class seems to be pretty enthusiastic about the last part of their syllabus.
Leon expects this because he usually puts most of the interesting parts of the class towards the end.

He nods and smiles at each student who bid him goodbye as they leave the classroom. He fixes up
his own things and makes sure the classroom is in right order before leaving himself. He’s
pleasantly surprised when he steps out of the classroom to see Hilal waiting for him on the
hallway. His chest warms at the idea of her coming all this way to see him and he can’t help but
feel giddy at the prospect, that yes, they’re going out for coffee in a few minutes.
(And it’s Hilal who asked him in the first place. He can’t seem to comprehend it still.)

She’s leaning against the wall with a book in hand and she looks up when he walks up to her.

“Hilal,” he greets. “This is a surprise.”

She snaps her book shut and adjusts the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “You were taking too
long.”

He checked his watch. No, he ended the class in time.

“Let’s go,” is all she says. “You can show me your favorite place.”

Leon realizes at that moment that he can’t say no to her. He has a suspicion he won’t be able to.

…
 part 3
Chapter Notes

This is the end of the story, but stay tuned for the bonus chapter!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

He does in fact bring her to his favorite café. It’s a small Filipino café owned by this lesbian couple
who recognized him almost immediately when he came there for the second time. Their drinks
were a little too sweet for his taste and the pastries a little heavy (their rice cakes were heavy, but
God were they tasty), but the place gave an easy atmosphere. He’s been going to the café for a
while now and he’s never seen the place crowded. That’s why it’s one of the places he likes going
to whenever he feels unmotivated at home or it was suffocating at the office. But he also knows the
place enough to know that most of the customers there are regulars and they visit the place as
frequently as he does.

The couple never complains and in fact, is close to every single one of their customers.

The place is small, but is decorated in such a way that’s cozy and very conducive to work. There
are plants everywhere, from the potted plants he doesn’t know the name to on the floor to the
plants hanging from the ceiling in macrame knots. Each table had a little potted succulent.

The walls are decorated with local artwork and photographs from places he assumes are from the
Philippines. There are also furnishings and other craftwork that are clearly homemade.

Leon likes how cozy everything is and it’s the atmosphere more than the menu that he comes back
to. Also, because he’s a big fan of coffee, he likes the free barako coffee they serve at the café.
There’s a small counter with a big percolator on top that brews the coffee, and it just emits this
wonderful smell around the café.

He brings Hilal there not only because it’s his favorite place and she had asked him to, but also
because she’s sure to appreciate the place like he does. (He’s overheard some of the conversations
she’s had with Kim, and he knows that she’d like to visit some places in Southeast Asia as well.)

True enough when they get there, Hilal looks at the café with the same awe that Yildiz displayed
when he took them to that flower café last Saturday. Hilal is more subdued in her excitement and
he watches her silently, enjoying how her blue eyes seem to sparkle at every awesome thing she
looks at.

One of the owners is at the counter. Her name is Hera and she has long black hair that she always
keeps over one shoulder and has very beautiful tan skin. She’s wearing a white crop top under the
apron with their café’s logo on it. She likes to man the counter once in a while, on top of everything
she does for the café. Leon knows her to be a little nosy too and that’s why she’s looking back and
forth between Hilal and Leon when they approach.

When they place their orders, Hera asks for her name.

“Leon has been coming here for years and has never ever brought anyone with him. You’re kind of
the first, and forgive me for being intrigued,” she says with a wink.
He sees Hilal adjust her head scarf and assumes she’s uncomfortable with the attention. (He
doesn’t know it’s an attempt to hide the flush in her cheeks, but he’s also busy trying not to get
flustered to notice.)

“Hera,” he reprimands instead and tries to send a warning through a half-hearted glare. The Filipina
just chuckles.

“Hilal. My name is Hilal.”

Hera smiles at her and writes her name down on a cup. “Thank you. That’s a really beautiful name.
What does it mean?”

“It means crescent moon. My family is from Turkey and I was named after our flag,” Hilal
answers. Leon remembers Mr. Cevdet explaining the origins of his daughters name the first day
they met them. The man looked very proud of himself, and it’s clear now that Hilal is proud of her
name as well.

Hera smiles. “That’s beautiful. Mine’s Hera, it’s short for Hiraya. It means dreams and well
wishes. My parents were trying for a long time to have a kid before they had me.”

Hilal smiles. “I think that’s beautiful name too.”

“She asks everyone new about their names and what they mean,” Leon says, taking his wallet out
to pay. Hilal is about to take her own purse out when he places the payment on the counter first.
“It’s a good trick to get people to come back.”

Hilal glares at him momentarily before Hera chuckles. “So what if I do? I asked him what his name
meant too, and I honestly thought ‘Leon’ was a little boring but maybe there was a reason to it.”

Hilal laughs. “’Son of a lion’ is a good meaning for a name.”

“Maybe, but predictable. Our names are so disappointingly gender normal.” Hera tuts and hands
Leon a receipt.

Hilal laughs, “I can’t disagree with that.”

Hera smiles. “We’ll bring your orders in a while. You guys can take a seat wherever. Máhal!” she
shouts towards the kitchen.

They take a seat a little further away from the counter and is a decent distance away from the other
customers.

“So this is your favorite place?” Hilal asks after they’ve settled down. The table they occupy has
the succulent with a small flower. He doesn’t know what it’s called but Hilal thinks it’s cute.

He nods. “Yeah, they have unlimited coffee. How can I say no that?” He gestures towards the
percolator near the counter.

“Oh wow, no wonder it smells so good in here.” She chuckles. “I see the appeal of the place,” she
adds. “I didn’t really expect you to like something like this. But then again, it’s doesn’t really
surprise me. I’m glad you brought me here.”

“I found it when I first moved into the city,” he tells her. “I think I was a week in my new
apartment and school didn’t officially start for a few weeks. I got bored doing nothing and since I
wasn’t familiar with the city just yet, I decided to go exploring a bit.”
Hilal leans in just a little, clearly interested in hearing the story. “I used to live somewhere close
here so it was a little easy to find this place and I’m glad I did. Hera and her girlfriend, Mábel
greeted me so enthusiastically when I walked in that I had half the mind to turn back away.”

“Did you? Hera, at least, has a personality that can be intimidating for people.”

“She does, doesn’t she? But no, I didn’t. I braved it and ordered their house special. Mábel is in
charge of the kitchen and Hera does almost everything. But mostly she likes to talk to the
customers and make sure they’re doing okay. She gave me my drink and asked me what my name
meant, and I ended up staying for a few hours.”

“And to think you almost left it. I get why you’ve been coming back. It’s really cozy.”

Leon nods. “Yeah, it’s kind of hard not to, when they lowkey won’t let you.” He says this as Mábel
walks out from behind the counter with their drinks. Mábel, unlike her girlfriend, has short cropped
hair that’s dyed in a shocking pink. She has tattoos lined up against her arms, all the more obvious
with the tank top she’s wearing under the apron.

She places the drinks on their table and smiles brightly at Hilal. “Welcome. Let us know what else
you need, and I hope you enjoy the drinks. Don’t worry though, all our ingredients are halal and
kosher.” She has the audacity to wink at Hilal and she turns to Leon and doesn’t even hide it when
she whispers: “She’s so pretty!”

“Thank you, Mábel,” he just nods.

Hilal enjoys the drink and Leon is happy that she finds it to her taste. It’s so worth it when she
smiles at him so brightly after taking a sip from her own coffee.

Conversation seems to flow easier after that. He’s seeing a different side to Hilal that he’s never
expected to see. He’s had a suspicion of what kind of girl Hilal has grown up into, and he’s happy
to have it confirmed. He’s also happy that she’s more. He can’t really help fall more in love with
her than ever.

She’s been telling him some stories of her younger brother Mehmet and showing him some of the
pictures and videos Azize sends her. He has to admit, he’s a pretty cute kid and he kind of wishes
he could meet him. He must be adorable when it gets Hilal smile and laugh so carelessly.

“He’s so smart, too,” she gushes. “I taught him to read you know,” she adds proudly, smiling at
Leon with her bright blue eyes. “Like you used to do with me back then.”

He laughs. “I hope you did a better job than I did. I barely knew what I was doing.”

“It didn’t feel like it. I can read just fine now.”

“Of course, you do, but that’s thanks to your being an avid reader. Reading only gets better the
more times you do it.”

“No, I think I had a pretty good teacher,” she disagrees, giving him a look that told him she won’t
let himself downplay himself. “He gave me this thick book to read when I was kid. I told myself I
had to get better just so I can read the book perfectly. He told me we’d talk about it once we got to
see each other again.”

“And did you?” Leon asks although he knows the answer to do that.

“No, we never got to.”

Leon hums. “It’s better that way. He sounds like a creep.”

She bursts into laughter and slaps at his arm. “Why would you think that?”

He laughs with her and doesn’t mind the sting on his arm. “Am I wrong though? Who gives a kid a
philosophy book that talks about Eros and love?”

“You, apparently,” she says in exasperation. “And it’s a good book. Even if it took me a while to
understand it.”

“And did you like it?”

She shrugs. “The book is okay. I was kind of happy when I read it at first. It at least talked about a
subject that I was already familiar with so it made it easier. I liked how it made the concept of love
so easy to comprehend when in reality, it isn’t. But yeah, it did kind of make me wonder why you’d
give a book like that to me when I was a kid who barely understood what love is.”

“Trust me, I don’t know either. I just remember liking the book and I thought that maybe you’d
like it too.”

Hilal laughs all of a sudden. “You know, when I grew older, I thought that it meant something.
Some part of my brain couldn’t let go of that stupid crush I had you when I was a kid.”

He laughs too. “Well, I am a pretty unforgettable guy.”

She slaps his arms again with another laugh. “Seriously. You don’t even sound surprised. I just
basically told you I had a crush on you when I was a kid.”

“I’m not,” he admits. “Yildiz told me at the flower café.”

She huffs. “Help me Allah that I don’t kill her when I get home.”

He chuckles at her. “It’s not bad. It’s a little cute actually.”

She cocks a brow at him. “Of course you find it cute.”

“Well, it doesn’t bother me. I used to think you didn’t like me that much when were kids and that’s
why you didn’t like being alone with me. It’s funny now, when you think about it.”

“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one who had the one-sided crush.”

Leon laughs and wants to die a little. And Hilal isn’t the one with the one-sided love.

“So, which part of the book did you like?” he asks, before he gets sad about the idea again.

“Will you judge me if I told you I liked the part about the soulmates best?”

"No, and I'm not surprised. It's one of the main reasons why people like the Symposium and it is
one of the more memorable things he's written."

"Yeah, I guess it was nice to read something so romantic: the idea of having someone destined for
you." She shrugs.

He shakes his head with a smile. "Depressing? Yes. Romantic? Not so much.” Hilal gives him an
intrigued look. “The idea gives someone the comfort that they won't be alone in the end, and yes,
we're a little scared of being alone. But it's not fair for people to wait around until their soulmate
shows up. You never know when that is and for all you know, it could be years on years, or you’ve
already met them, or they’re at other parts of the world you can’t reach."

She nods in understanding. "That's true. When you put it that way, it’s a little depressing. But at
least, you don't think that anyone can't be happy unless they meet their soulmate?"

He shakes his head again. “No, I don’t think that. That’s why it’s a little depressing to think that
there is someone pre-destined for you because as romantic as it is, the sadder it gets the longer you
wait. It’s as if your happiness is dependent on the arrival of your soulmate. I also don’t think it’s
fair for anyone to test their significant others just to see if they’re the ones they’re looking for. I
don’t think it’s fair for anyone to keep waiting around when they could just live in the moment and
enjoy what life and other possibilities can offer them.”

She huffs in amusement. "In other words, you think the idea of soulmates is bullshit."

He laughs. "Yeah, kind of. I believe that people don't get to choose who they fall in love with. I
doubt any god has anything to do with the feelings and actions of humans. But people do get to
decide who they'll stay with. If there are soulmates, then it's something that we decide rather than
something we wait for to be validated."

"Only people can know what makes them happy."

"Exactly."

She chuckles. "Anyone who ends up marrying you will be very lucky then."

"How do you say that?”

"Well, you talk about love and decisions as if you’ve had to make a few hard choices. That gives
me the feeling that you’re not someone to give up on your partner so easily and you'll definitely
make the effort in a relationship.”

Leon used to think so too. But he feels like an imposter when she says it now that he’s not going to
be doing anything with his newly found feelings for her. Right now, he’s forcing himself not to get
transfixed with the way she keeps trying to tame the stray hairs that’s escaped from her scarf. It’s
so cute.

"Well, I try to,” is what he settles for. “Love isn't just feeling in the moment. It's also a lot of work
and effort. In fact, it also says that in the Symposium: 'Love is the product of immense work.'"

She lets out another laugh. "Socrates isn't so full of bullshit then.”

"Yeah, he has some good points. But that’s also why he got sentenced to death in the end.” He
leans back against the chair he’s sitting on. Their drinks have been empty for a while now and he
wonders if he should get a refill.

“And what about you?" he asks instead.

"Me? On whether I believe in soulmates?"

He shrugs. "Yes and no. Up to you."

She doesn’t say anything for a while, clearly thinking about her answer. She’s tinkering with a
rolled-up tissue when she begins to speak.
"I think it's a little complicated from my perspective. I can't see love as something that you choose
for yourself. It's a luxury.” She smiles a sorrowful smile that speaks a collective history of
mistreatment and violence.

“I don't mean to be too political about it, but I'm a Muslim and a woman. Those are things I can’t
separate myself from no matter how objective I try to be. We used to not have a voice in deciding a
lot of things, including who to marry. Although times have changed and Muslim women are given
more of a choice in that regard, there are still so many things that I find a little troubling. At least,
for myself.

Now when I think about soulmates and whether they exist, on the one hand, I agree with you that it
takes away my agency and it’s no better than the system that’s robbed my sisters of their own
choice. On the other hand, I don’t want to be in conflict with my own faith. There’s the belief that
Allah has someone planned for me. I embrace that and it comforts me to be reminded of Allah’s
love for me and that I’m being looked after. But really, how am I to reconcile those two?

What’s more, is that there are so many people in the world. Will Allah let me have a soulmate that
isn’t Muslim? What if the person I fall in love with, the person I choose to stay with, is not of the
same faith? Does that mean I’m wrong in falling in love, that I should be trusting others to marry
me off instead? What if he does decide that my soulmate is non-Muslim? Does that mean he’s
wrong?

Despite the developments, Muslim women can’t marry outside of their religion even if Muslim
men can. That means my choices, as a woman, are limited but Muslim men aren’t.

And even if I do decide to be in a relationship with a non-Muslim, we won’t be able to get married
not unless one of us converts to the other’s religion, which I’ll never do no matter how much I love
them.”

Leon can’t help but chuckle. "You make it sound as if there aren't any suitable Muslim men for
you."

She scoffs at him again. “I don’t mean it that way and I’m being hypothetical, what happens then?
My parents want me to marry for love and while they tell me I can have anyone I want, I know
they won’t accept it if I do want to marry a non-Muslim. Do I just forget about my feelings? Do I
just not meet people who happen to be predominantly practicing a different religion? It’s a little
frustrating.”

“You sound more than just a little frustrated, Hilal,” he teases and she glares at him momentarily.
“Right, I apologize. But,” he thinks about the question a little more before proceeding. He could be
potentially shooting himself on the foot here. “Have you fallen in love before? With a non-
Muslim?”

Hilal falls silent again and continues to play with the ball of tissue. “I have,” she says after a few
beats. She meets his eye with an audible exhale. “He’s also from Istanbul and we met in university.
He was raised a Muslim.” She purses her lips. “But he’s an atheist.”

There’s a sadness to her words and Leon understands that the relationship hadn’t gone anywhere.
He won’t make assumptions as to what happened, but he knows that it hurt her. It clearly still hurts
her now. He can’t blame her for her faith, and he can’t blame the other guy for his beliefs as well.
“It seems you’ve had to make a few hard decisions as well,” he says.

She huffs. “It seems so.”

He's not a fool to imagine that she’d have the same feelings for him as he has for her. Even if she
does, her faith is important to her. He’d never ask her to choose. He accepted the hopelessness of
his situationbut it stings all the same realizing the gravity of it.

He’s a Christian himself. He grew up in a household that gave importance to that aspect of their
lives. Unlike the general idea about philosophers, Leon isn’t an atheist. He still believes in his
mother’s faith and he prays. He’s not devout, that’s for sure, and he doesn’t remember the last
Sunday service he attended. He’s read the bible and he tries to be nuanced about understanding it.
But when it comes down to it, he knows he won’t convert either. Despite his misgivings and issues
with religion, he still believes.

“Then,” he says. “I hope the right guy for you is either Muslim or is willing to convert for you.”

She gives him a small smile at his attempt to alleviate the conversation. “Would you call that
romantic or stupid?”

“As the most esteemed Jane Austen once said, ‘We are all fools in love.’”

Hilal finally gives a laugh. “Leon, why are you like this?”

They leave the café a few hours later and it’s already dark outside. Hera, as well as Mábel sent
them off with a box of rice cakes each. It’s one of their specialties and Leon can’t help feel
offended because he’s never received any freebies from the couple. On top of it all, Mábel makes
Hilal promise to visit again, but she stresses that she should without Leon in tow.

“They definitely like you more,” Leon says as they start walking towards Hilal and Yildiz’s
apartment. It’s convenient to find that they live a few blocks away.

Hilal laughs. “It’s not a big deal. You’re not sulking, are you?”

“Of course, I am! I’ve been their customer for literal years and they never gave me a free box of
anything. And may I remind you, their rice cakes are their specialties. I bring you in there the first
time and they decide to give me box if only to thank me for bringing you there.”

She rolls her eyes with amusement. “I take it back; you are a child if you’re this worked up over
this small thing.”

“Hilal! How could you not understand my predicament?”

“Can’t you just be thankful that you have a box of dessert?”

He huffs. “You like them more than me too.”

“Seriously, Leon,” she shakes her head. “You’re literally the one who used to babysit me. If you’re
so sad about it then you can have my box.”

She’s already pushing the box she’s holding towards him but he smiles and shakes his head.

“Nah,” Leon finally relents. “Fine, I shall act my age and be more like Professor Kim. You like
hanging out with older men anyway.”
“You’re insufferable, I swear, Leon. And besides, you’re older too.”

He laughs. “Alright, sorry.” Leon turns to look at her. “I never got to say this, but it’s really good to
see you again, Hilal.”

She chuckles. “Is this the part where you get all sappy?”

He exhales with exasperation. “Why do you like making fun of me? Please take me seriously.”

Hilal laughs fully. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

He shakes his head. “No, you ruined it.”

“Too bad. I was just going to say that it’s nice to see you again too,” she says.

Leon lets out an exhale. “You’re just as insufferable, you know that?”

Hilal just shrugs and he shakes his head in disbelief.

They continue walking in comfortable silence, their elbows bumping occasionally. This continues
until they finally get to Hilal’s apartment building. They stop at the entrance and Hilal doesn’t
make a move to go in just yet.

“So, this is nice,” he says. “Thank you for inviting me for coffee.” He turns to look at her and she’s
already smiling at him.

“Thank you again for bringing me to that café. It’s a really nice place.” Hilal lifts the small box of
rice cakes. “I’ll enjoy these too. Especially since you’ve been making a big fuss about not getting
any until now.”

He chuckles. “I’m not overstating how good they are. But share those with Yildiz, I’m sure she’ll
like them as well.”

“I don’t have a choice; she’ll grab the box before I make a move to take my shoes off.”

He chuckles again. “Well,” he clears his throat. “I guess I’ll see you around at work?”

Hilal nods. “Take care going home.” He watches her go up her building before taking his own
leave.

Leon takes the longer route home and can’t shake the smile on his face although he’s well aware
of how goofy he looks. Ali Kemal frowns so hard that it’s hilarious.

“I’m guessing you talked to your girl?” his roommate inquires.

“Not my girl. But yes, I did talk to her.” He places the box of rice cakes from the café on the
kitchen island. Ali Kemal immediately opens the box to grab a cake wrapped in banana leaf. (Leon
has bought some goodies to take home before and Ali Kemal found a new love for Filipino
desserts.)

“So, are you guys a thing or what?” Ali Kemal asks again, taking a big bite from the puto bumbong
and scattering coconut and sugar over the island top.

Leon shakes his head at his roommate and grabs a plate from the cupboard. He slides it in front of
him. “Nope.”
“Then why are you so happy for? Did you guys decide to get married instead?” Ali Kemal finishes
the first cake and grabs for another.

Leon gives his roommate a look. “Really?”

His roommate just shrugs and opens the rice cake. “What else am I supposed to think when you
looked like a kicked puppy just recently?”

Leon sighs and grabs one of the cakes before his roommate eats all of them. “We talked, but I
didn’t tell her my feelings. It’s not really convenient anyway.”

Ali Kemal frowns in confusion again. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you’re smiling like
someone whose feelings are reciprocated.”

“I don’t know. I know I should feel a little depressed about it, but I’m just happy I got to spend
time with her.”

Ali Kemal’s face scrunches in disgust and throws the banana leaf more forcefully than intended at
the counter. “You’re so whipped, it’s disturbing. I don’t know what’s worse: you being all sad and
pining or you being sappy and in love.”

“Says the man who recently just asked me advice on how to plan a dinner date with his girlfriend.”

“You have your uses as a hopeless romantic, I got to give you that.” Ali Kemal crosses his arms.
“But do you really see yourself living like this? In love and okay with the fact that you just
disregarded your feelings just because they’re ‘not convenient’?”

Leon sighs again. “I don’t know, Ali Kemal. Right now, I’m content as is and Hilal seems so too.
After all, even if she does have the same feelings for me, I doubt she’d be willing to admit it.
Despite everything, her faith is important to her.”

Ali Kemal groans. “You have a unique taste in girls, you know that?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, let me enlighten you. You have a thing for girls that are unattainable, or at least with girls
who’s interests conflict with yours so badly it always spells the end of your relationship. The first
girl you fell in love with didn’t and doesn’t want to have a family besides the fact that you do. The
last serious girlfriend you had turned out to be lesbian and left you for another woman. And now
you’re in love with a Muslim girl who’s not allowed to be in a relationship with someone of a
different faith. Why can’t you just fall in love with an average, mediocre girl to make your life
easier for once?”

“Dude, as if I had a choice in that!”

“Of course, you don’t, but seriously, you’re making me frustrated for you because you make your
life more complicated than it should be. You talk about convenience, when you deserve to be
happy too!”

“Woah there, are you going to cry?”

“Fuck you. All I’m saying is that you’re a total idiot and that religion shouldn’t be a reason not to
love. Aren’t you the one who keeps saying that all the major religions in the world is essentially
based on love? And seriously, convenience shouldn’t even be considered in love. It’s not
something you should decide anyway.”
Leon laughs. “Ali Kemal. I think you can leave being a detective and be a professor instead.”

His roommate groans again in exasperation. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Thanks for the cakes.”

“Sure thing.”

He doesn’t know what pushes himself to stop by the café he usually gets his coffee in the morning.
Their coffee machine is working perfectly for once and he’s had a pretty decent cup (he tries not to
be too disappointed at how lackluster it tastes compared to Hilal’s coffee). It’s only when he’s
outside his apartment building and spots the café that he decides to delay going to school and get
something.

He sees the pastries lined up in the café’s display cabinet and gets some of the croissants. He’s
glad that he did because once he enters the faculty room, Hilal is waiting by his desk with a cup of
coffee.

“Hello, Hilal!” he greets.

“Good morning!” she greets back. “I have a Hilal special house blend for you,” she smiles at him
so magnificently he forgets to breathe for a moment. He returns her smile and lifts the bag of
croissants. “Good timing, I have croissants.”

He gestures for her to sit down on the chair he usually reserves for students. “I don’t have a class
this morning, but I still have some papers to grade.”

“That’s alright. I wasn’t supposed to come in today but Professor Kim told me to meet him this
morning. But as you can see,” she says motioning to Kim’s unoccupied cubicle. “He’s not here
yet.”

“Did he tell you what time he’s meeting you?”

She checks her watch. “He told me to meet him by nine. It’s fifteen minutes past that. I’ve been
here for thirty minutes.”

“Well, you can wait here if you want. Though, I won’t be much company.” He gestures towards
the short stack of papers sitting on the edge of his desk. “But you also don’t need to stay here.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just finish these and annoy you with my munching,” she says, opening the bag of
croissants.

He smiles. Whatever happened to her insistence on professionalism? Whatever it is, he’s not
complaining.

“You’re more than welcome to,” he says and takes a seat. Hilal places his coffee at a reachable
distance and is careful not to take up more space than necessary. Contrary to what she just said, she
takes a book out of her bag.

“What subject is that for?” she asks, pertaining to the papers he’s started reading.

“It’s the elective class on Aristotelian Ethics,” he answers. “The final requirement is a comparative
paper.” He takes a sip of the coffee and he almost moans in delight. “Seriously, what do you put in
these that make it so good?”

“It’s a family secret,” she says with a proud smile.

“I’m asking Yildiz once I see her next,” he decides when it’s clear she won’t say anything more
about it. He pushes the croissants towards Hilal instead. “Eat this while it’s warm.”

For a while, they stay inside a small bubble shared between Leon and Hilal. They spend the next
hour just reading, sipping on coffee and munching on croissants. Once in a while, Leon would read
a sentence or a passage out loud just to see if they understood the same thing and Hilal would ask
about a word’s meaning from her book (apparently, she’s reading a book in Greek and something
inside Leon melts at the thought of her learning his native language).

The bubble bursts when Kim finally enters the faculty with apologies to Hilal for being late. The
professor lived far away from the town center where the university is located. He got stuck in
horrible traffic and decided to get some yuan yang for Hilal just to make up for making her wait.

The coffee she made and the croissants he bought have long been finished, and Leon volunteers to
clean up just so she can attend to their meeting. He’s nearly finished grading the papers anyway so
a little break won’t hurt.

Hilal joins Kim in his cubicle, where they stay for an hour or so.

Surprisingly, that’s how their mornings go for the week even if Hilal doesn’t have to be in the
office in the mornings. She’d be at his cubicle with coffee and he’d arrive with pastries. They’d
either sit at the small table at the pantry space or just sit at his cubicle, talking and exchanging
ideas even if they didn’t have to do their own things separately. It’s a joy to find out that Hilal has
read a lot of what’s deemed to be classics in Philosophy, and Leon hasn’t had a lot of fun
discussing them in a while. It’s way different than how it had been during the first months and
Leon wonders how long that arrangement will last.

It doesn’t last very long.

Leon can’t say he’s surprised when he’s felt that there was an impermanence to those mornings
with Hilal. What is unexpected is how it ends.

There’s another faculty meeting at the last week of the summer term and Tevfik has the faculty
members sitting with their shitty coffee in the board room. It’s a Friday and Leon has been wanting
to go home since the moment he stepped in the campus (which was literally just 15 minutes ago.
He hadn’t planned to go to the university that day, and Hilal had already informed him through
email that she wouldn’t be there either).

“I’d like to commend everyone on their hard work this summer term,” Tevfik starts the meeting
and smiles at everyone. “I’d especially like to commend the History and Philosophy Department
for taking in some extra work since Professor Kalde’s unexpected medical leave.”

Tevfik nods gratefully at Leon’s direction, and Leon feels a little appeased by that. It’s good to
know his hard work has been noticed, even if it’s from Tevfik.
“Now, this isn’t going to take a while since I know everyone is impatient to spend the next free
days without work. The first semester will be starting in two weeks and I know we all want to
regain a little bit of our sanity before then.”

There are a few chuckles around the room before Tevfik continues. He goes on for the next thirty
minutes or so discussing some of the school year’s highlights. The New Master’s program they
were planning on launching was going along great and just had to be handed over the Board of
Regents for final decisions. The college faculty has been able to produce more publications than
the previous school year. The graduation rate has been better, etc. etc.

“And lastly, Professor Kim has informed me that Hilal will be leaving us by the end of the month
and we’ll be hiring a replacement for the project she’s working on. So, if anyone else needs a TA
or an RA, please let me know so we can release a notice.”

It takes a few minutes for Leon to comprehend what was just said. Even as Tevfik and the other
faculty members talk about quick matters before the meeting ends, Leon is reeling in the
unexpected news. Hilal isn’t going to be working in the project anymore, so she won’t be working
at the college anymore either. He doesn’t know the details of her contract anyway so that piece of
news doesn’t bother him. What does is the fact that Hilal never said anything to him about it.

Has she intended to leave just like that without telling him? Leaving him to wonder what happened
and to learn the news from other people in the faculty?

Is she leaving the college, or she leaving town?

He’s overthinking this again. Leon knows he can’t be angry or hurt about this revelation. Hilal
owes him nothing. She can leave the same way she reentered his life and she’ll never know the
huge gaping hole she’ll be leaving behind.

But the thing is that he is hurt and a little angry. He’s also a little hopeful that she did plan to tell
him, that she isn’t completely leaving.

He tunes out the rest of the meeting and goes home in a daze. Thankfully, Ali Kemal isn’t home so
Leon can sulk all he wants. He almost thinks of calling his mother again, but knows that he can’t
keep going to her every time he feels too much.

So, like every other time he needs a break, he goes out on a walk.

The smell of barako hits his nose once he steps inside the café. It’s near closing time and there are
still a few customers inside. He barely notices Hera cleaning a nearby table until she calls his
name.

“Hey, Hera,” he greets.

“I’ll get you your usual,” she says, a little sympathetically. Leon guesses that he looks as
disheveled as he feels. “You can go sit with Hilal over there.”

He turns around to see Hilal sitting at the table they sat on the first time they were here. She has
her laptop open and she’s already looking at him.
“Thank you,” he nods at Hera and walks towards where Hilal is.

“Is it okay if I join you?” he asks.

Hilal nods and takes the seat on front of her. He silently watches Hilal close her laptop and fix her
things to the side. There’s a cup of coffee next to her and he can see that she’s been here a while
with how empty the cup is, and how much rolled tissue is scattered around it.

“Sorry about the mess,” Hilal says once she takes notice of Leon eyeing the balled-up tissue. He
doesn’t say anything but lets her set the tissue aside.

“How was the meeting?” she asks. She doesn’t smile and she’s playing with another piece of
tissue. Oh, she definitely knows that he knows and still she doesn’t say anything. So she did intend
for him to find out like this.

He sighs. “The usual,” he says. “Boring but necessary.”

Hilal nods again and tears the tissue to thin strips. He bets she’s doing it unconsciously. If she’s
this anxious then at least he’s assured she’s not as unbothered as he initially thought.

It’s Hera who brings his drink. She places a steaming cup of coffee and a glass of water for Hilal.
“Don’t worry about paying this time, it’s on the house,” she says and smiles encouragingly at the
both of them.

They mutter a thank you and they fall into a silence once Hera walks away.

The coffee does little to appease him, really. He’s taking a sip and he’s being reminded of the fact
that there’s a possibility of not getting to drink Hilal’s coffee ever again. He doesn’t know he’s
frowning not until Hilal points it out.

“Are you angry?”

He looks at her and she’s gauging him.

“So you’re leaving,” he says, finally acknowledging it. “I didn’t know your contract ends soon.”

“It’s actually not supposed to for the rest of the year,” Hilal admits and takes a sip of water. “I
asked the dean if I could terminate it before the actual date.”

“Why?” It’s just one word, but it holds so much weight. The answer could be anything really.

She takes in a breath, as if trying to summon some courage to say whatever she needs to say. “I got
into a Masters program,” she says, looking at him straight in the eye. “I got a full scholarship to a
university in Europe and I’m supposed to start next semester.”

“You can’t hate me for this,” she says when he doesn’t say anything. The truth is that he’s not sure
how to react. He wants to laugh because he overreacted. He wants to be happy for her because she
finally found the suitable program for her post-graduate needs. He wants to be sad because it
means that Hilal is leaving town and it means that he won’t get to see her for who knows how long.
He also wants to be angry at himself for making Hilal think he’s displeased for her situation just
because it means leaving. He also wants to be annoyed at Hilal for thinking he’d honestly get mad
at her for achieving her dreams. Honestly, he’d have congratulated her if she told him.

He laughs quietly instead. “I don’t.”

“You’re upset I didn’t tell you.”

“Yes,” he admits and sighs. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me first. But that’s not my
business,” he says with a small smile. “You do whatever you want and I’ll be happy for you.”

She blinks at him and doesn’t say anything. Whatever she’s expecting for him to say, Leon realizes
this isn’t it. He’s a little sad that she must have expected him to react badly to this and for what
reason, he doesn’t know.

“Remember when you were a kid,” he says. “You used to say you wanted to travel the world?
That’s why you carried books around even before you learned how to read. You said it’s because
there was a little bit of the world in those books and you couldn’t wait to read about them. You
said that until you grew old enough to fly a plane, you’d read.” He chuckles at the memory of Hilal
answering why she liked books even she didn’t know how to read just yet. “That’s why I agreed to
teach you when your parents asked. Who was I to decline a little girl’s dream? And who am I, now,
to be angry at you finalizing that?”

He looks at her straight in the eyes and tries not to melt at the way her lips purses in a small pout,
her eyebrows curved. He does see how her glassy her eyes are. “You were meant for great things,
Hilal. I didn’t need to see you again after thirteen years to confirm it and I don’t need to stick
around for another thirteen years to see you become the woman that you are. You’re doing great
without me and I acknowledge that. I just hoped that you’d give me better credit than thinking I
could hate you for doing exactly what you were meant to do.”

The tissue she’s been fiddling with is in tiny shreds. “I’m sorry,” she says after a few beats of
silence.

“Me too,” he chuckles sadly. “When do you leave?”

She looks at him, trying to gauge him again. “In a month. Yildiz is helping me sort my documents
while I assist in looking for my replacement at the college.”

He nods. “All right.” He doesn’t ask how long she’s known she got accepted. It must have been a
while if she was able give notice to the dean. He doesn’t want to know the answer anyway. He
doesn’t want to know if getting into the program had anything to do with her recent warm behavior
towards him. He doesn’t want to look into those last memories of her (for until the next time they
see each other again at least) to be tainted with resentment. So he doesn’t ask. For once, he doesn’t
want to know the answers.

He finishes his coffee and stands up. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Hilal doesn’t argue and begins to pack her things into her laptop bag. They said goodbyes to Hera
and silently exits the café.

The walk to Hilal’s apartment isn’t the comfortable silence from the last time. This one is fragile.
Leon keeps his hands deep in the pockets of his coat, and Hilal grips the strap of her laptop bag.
There is no bumping of elbows and shoulders, just a short space between them.

Somehow that’s how their entire relationship has been. Unstable. Uncertain. Always a space in
between whether that be time, literal distance, or walls they themselves put up. Leon wants to
laugh. A hopeless love indeed.

They reach the front of Hilal’s apartment and Leon waits if there’s anything else that needs to be
said.
“You,” Hilal says and stops herself. She clears her throat and meets his eyes. “This isn’t goodbye.”
Her voice cracks in the end and she takes in a deep breath to compose herself. “I won’t let it.
Whatever you’re thinking, this isn’t goodbye.”

She takes a step closer to him. She’s so much shorter than him, but she still manages to stare him
down and shake him. “You’re acting as if I’ll just leave and forget everything. You think I’ve
misjudged you, well you’ve misjudged me too. I thought that you were a person who’d make an
effort not to let a relationship or a friendship dwindle away just like that. You think I’m a person
who’d let you do just that.”

She takes a deep breath. “We’ve both been stuck in the past. We don’t trust the person we’re
seeing now despite knowing them when they were younger. But shouldn’t we owe it to the person
we knew before to give it a try this time? Shouldn’t I trust you to care just because you do? And
shouldn’t you trust me to care just as much as you do?”

She takes another step closer and she has to tilt her head at a high angle just to keep looking at his
eyes. “I won’t let this be a goodbye, Leon. Not when I just found you again.”

Her words bring some warmth to his chest and he has never felt a stronger urge to just kiss her. He
wants to lean down just so she wouldn’t have a hard time looking into his eyes. He wants to smile
and tell her how relieved he is that she doesn’t want to separate on such terms. He wants to tell her
how happy he is that she’s finally admitting she’s missed him all these years.

He doesn’t do all those things though. He just focuses on the bright flush on Hilal’s cheeks and is
defiantly still looking up at him. He smiles at her and draws her into a hug.

She tucks her head against his chest and hesitantly hugs him back.

“Okay, Hilal.”

She nods and they stay like that until they hear Yildiz teasing them from their window.

Hilal looks angry and embarrassed as she pulls away.

“I’ll see you,” is all she says before entering the building.

He waves at Yildiz and goes home as well.

There’s no need to report physically to the university and Leon is content staying at his apartment
for the first few days, looking through emails from his students and providing them explanations
for their recently published grades. He’s making himself a cup of coffee when he receives a text
message from an unknown number.

Unknown: It’s Hilal. Where do you live?

He replies with: How did you get my number? And saves her number immediately.

Hilal : Yildiz. Now answer my question.

He scoffs and sends her his address. She only replies with a thumbs up, and Leon finds himself
tidying up the apartment in preparation for her visit. It’s a good thing Ali Kemal isn’t here right
now. If he were, he’d no doubt be teasing and be no fucking help.

(Leon also takes the time to change into a shirt that wasn’t an old ratty university hoodie, and to fix
his hair. He keeps the sweatpants he’s already wearing though, because let’s be real; there’s no
way he’s wearing jeans in the confines of his own home.)

This is the first time he’s heard from Hilal since walking her home to her apartment. He has taken
some time to think over everything they’ve talked about that evening. He stood up almost the
whole night just thinking about how right Hilal is. He also realizes how much power she has over
him as her mere presence makes his mind and body scramble to get itself together. He doesn’t
really think when she’s with him despite his habit of overthinking about almost everything about
her. (The irony is that he thinks about her so much he doesn’t think about what she thinks and cares
about their own situation.)

Despite the unexpected visit, Leon is pretty (see: relatively) calm about having to receive her in his
apartment. He checks if the food and drinks they have in the cupboards are halal and makes sure
there is another pair of slippers she could use when she comes over.

It’s also a good thing he had the mind to grab some pastries this morning for breakfast. He prepares
what’s left on the plate and readies a few mugs. (He has a feeling Hilal would be bringing coffee.
He likes to think he’s got a good reading to her patterns by now, but just in case, he has the coffee
grinds next to the coffee machine. And if Hilal asks, it’s this new Turkish coffee he found online
that Ali Kemal won’t stop teasing him for.)

He also wonders why she’s decided to come visit him in his apartment and not somewhere more
neutral. He’s not sure entirely sure where they stand even if he agreed that he’d trust her and make
more an effort in being friends with her.

But before his mind could go spiraling to another rabbit hole, he slaps himself out of it and waits
for Hilal’s arrival. There’s a knock on the door fifteen minutes later and when he goes open it, he’s
greeted with a big smile. Hilal also shoves a huge thermos into his hands. He smiles for being
right.

“Hi,” he greets and steps aside to open the door a little wider. “I hope the place wasn’t hard to
find?”

She shakes her head. “Not at all.” He slides the indoor slippers towards her which she accepts
gratefully. He leads her deeper into the apartment.

“Before you think I’m a stereotypical man who doesn’t clean up, I’d like to put it on record that
my mother raised me better than that and that I live with an absolute slob of a roommate,” he says.
“And I did try to clean up just a bit.”

Hilal looks around and shrugs. “It’s not as messy as you think, and I came unannounced anyway.”
She places her bag on the sofa. “You have a roommate?”

“Yeah. I didn’t actually tell you about him, did I?”

“No, you haven’t. I thought you lived alone.”

“I’ll just go get mugs for this. You can sit wherever,” he says as he places the thermos on the
coffee table and goes to the kitchen for the snacks and the mugs. He returns and places all of them
on the coffee table. Hilal smiles gratefully at him again.
“His name is Ali Kemal, and he’s a detective. He’s not home sometimes, but when he is, the place
looks like an actual tornado went through it.”

She just nods.

“So what do I owe this visit?” he asks and hands her a mug. “Unexpected it may be, it’s no less
welcome.” He takes the thermos to pour them coffee.

“Yildiz wanted to ask you to dinner with us in a few days,” she says after a sip. “Yakup will be
flying over and she wants you to meet him. He’s also bringing Mehmet.”

He smiles. “That sounds nice. Sure, I’ll go. But Yildiz could’ve just told me all this through text.”

“Yeah. But I have some news as well,” she says and places the mug on the coffee table. “I was a
little mean before, so I want to tell you before you hear it from others.”

He straightens.

“I might leave earlier than planned,” she says. “Professor Kim already found a potential
replacement for me in the project,” she adds. “He’s an old student of the professor and he used to
TA for him before. He knows a lot about the project already so I wouldn’t have to explain
everything to him. I just need to turn over some files, and the rest I can help through video-call.”

“I think I have an idea who that is. Is it Spiros?”

She nods. “You know him?”

“Yeah, he was a graduate student when I started working in the university,” he says. “And you’re
ready to leave then? You’ve got all your documents processed?”

“Yeah, apparently. Yildiz had some help getting them processed faster and I don’t know how she
knows people to do that, but there’s that. All I need to do now is to fly back home just to finalize
some things.”

“And when do you leave for that?”

“I booked a flight for next week,” she says. “The dinner with Yildiz and Yakup is actually her way
of saying goodbye since I won’t be able to see her again when I fly out from there.”

“I see. So you’ll be seeing your parents too?”

“Yeah. I’ll be visiting them again for the holidays but they insisted I spend time with them before I
leave.”

“Well, you can’t blame them. I’m sure they miss you.”

She just smiles.

“But you could’ve told me all this through the phone too,” he says. “Or via email, since it’s your
favorite form of communication.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’d rather tell you in person. I think it’s what you deserve anyway.”

“I appreciate that,” he says. “Well,” he sighs. “Since you don’t have much time, is there anything
you want to do in the city before you leave?”
She smiles.

Leon ended up having to change into a pair of jeans that day. He didn’t spend a lot of time in his
apartment the next few days either (despite his initial plans to just stay home and probably read).
He takes Hilal out in town, to different places he knows she’ll like. He takes her to small cafés and
shops across town, to the more interesting places in the city that only locals know about: like that
small bookshop that sells books in different foreign languages. Leon had bought a lot of early
editions of Greek and German philosophy in there, and it remains to be one of his prized
possessions in his library (he still isn’t as fluent with German as he liked).

It was there that he learned (and was impressed) of Hilal’s fluency in Greek. It was far more
advanced that she’d let him initially believe, and they managed to have a short conversation in the
language before Hilal burst out laughing in embarrassment.

(He’s also a little proud for taking the opportunity to flex his fluency over a few languages.)

“I’m not surprised you learned Turkish, you were already a little intermediate by the time we left,”
Hilal had said.

“You have to admit you’re a little impressed, küçük hanım.”

She rolled her eyes. “Being cute doesn’t give you any favors.”

“You think I’m cute?”

“Shut up.”)

After that, he brought her to the patisserie where she tried macarons for the first time. He was very
amused at her expression, especially when the macarons they bought where shaped like kittens.

(“I thought they’d taste like Whoopie Pies,” she said with her eyes comically growing bigger.

He only laughs at her.)

In the course of the next few days, he takes her skating (which she decides she’ll be taking up as a
hobby after an hour just skating around the rink and not minding Leon at all. He’s the one who just
taught her, but she’s a natural at it and decides to go fast like it’s a race), manages to persuade her
into taking a Japanese cooking class (where they attempt and fail at making mochi), takes her to
museums and a few art galleries (where they meet a woman named Latife and happens to be an
artist Hilal knows about. They leave the gallery with free sketches of them made by her), and goes
to an arts and crafts fair (where he buys her a threaded bracelet and she buys him a bookmark too).

They also take pictures. They take A LOT OF THEM. His gallery is filled with recent photos of
Hilal and he’s glad that he has so much space in his phone storage from not really taking any
photos besides sunsets. (His wallpaper is one of the default ones.)

There are photos of her browsing through books and items up for sale at the shops they’ve visited.
There are photos of her admiring food displays and of her unflatteringly shoving food in her mouth.
There are also videos of her: skating ahead of him as she gets a better hang on how the roller skates
worked; holding her hand so tightly just as she’s learning how to move with wheels; and speaking
in Greek and in the other languages she knows.

What he likes the most are the photos and the videos she doesn’t know he took. They’re the ones
that feature her reading quietly, sipping on coffee, admiring things, and all her genuine quirks.

(He has a particular picture of hers where she’s sitting across him in one of the cafés they’ve
visited. They were disagreeing on a movie’s release date and she took her phone out to verify
who’s right. She’s smiling down on her phone when he took the photo and he likes it so much he
ends up making it his wallpaper. Though, he’s too chicken to make it into his lock screen
wallpaper.)

He's going to miss her. He’s really going to miss her. He really does hope that no matter how long
she’ll be studying, talking to her won’t dwindle or too tiring for the both of them. He hopes and
trusts her that they won’t lose contact.

(What he doesn’t know is that Hilal makes a new folder in her gallery and titles it with a lion
emoji.)

It’s the night of the dinner and he’s preparing to leave his apartment. Eleni is in the kitchen,
making dinner for her and Ali Kemal. His roommate is leaning against the wall and watching Leon
fix up his appearance.

“And you’re sure you’re really okay with this?” Ali Kemal asks as Leon puts on his shoes.
“You’ve only found her again and now you’re just letting her leave?”

Leon huffs. They’ve had this conversation before. Just last night actually, when he came home
from Hera and Mábel’s café and after dropping Hilal on her apartment building. He knows why Ali
Kemal is bringing it up again and he appreciates his roommate for looking out for him, but
sometimes one word should be enough.

“Of course. It’s what she wants, who am I to ask her to stay?” Leon says and assesses himself one
last time in the small mirror they hang on the hallway wall.

Ali Kemal clicks his tongue. “Alright then, will I be expecting you to be moping for the next four
years?”

Leon laughs. “You’d love that won’t you?”

“I’m serious, Leon.”

“Yes, I know. But you don’t have to worry Ali Kemal. I’m okay with it and I’ve made my peace
with it. All I want it for Hilal to be happy.”

His roommate looks at him for a little while longer, as if staring him down can prove him wrong.
“If you say so,” Ali Kemal relents and sighs. “Have fun at the dinner then.”

He gives Leon a heavy pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks,” Leon says, brushing his roommate’s hand away. “And no sex on the couch. PLEASE,”
Leon says it loud enough so Eleni can hear it from the kitchen.

Eleni just laughs and Ali Kemal rolls his eyes.

…

Leon is already standing outside of Hilal and Yildiz’s apartment and he knocks after he decides that
he’s presentable. (He actually stood outside their door for a good five minutes before knocking.)

The door is opened by Yildiz who smiles brightly at the sight of him.

“Leon! You made it!” she says and goes in for a hug.

“Of course. It might be another thirteen years before I see any of you again,” he jokes and Yildiz
punches him playfully.

“Just try to do that and Hilal will hunt you across the world to teach you how to use a damn
phone,” she says and he laughs because he doesn’t doubt that Hilal will do just that.

“I’m kidding, Yildiz,” he says and hugs her again.

“You better be!” she waves a finger and pushes the front door wider for them to enter.

There he meets Yildiz’s husband, Yakup, who’s a tall gangly man who holds up a hand for Leon to
shake. His grip is firm and sure, which Leon expects from someone from the military. He
remembers Yildiz as a young teenager and telling him about the man she’ll be marrying in the
future. She had detailed descriptions of what he’d look like, what he does for a job, and what he’d
be like. Even then, Leon knew it was impossible for Yildiz to find the exact man she was
describing. But there was one thing for sure, Yildiz had a type, and Yakup didn’t seem to tick
those boxes.

Nevertheless, as Yildiz introduced them, she looked at her husband with obvious adoration and
pride. Yakup looks at her the same way, and it isn’t really hard to reimagine the story Yildiz told
him about how she met her husband. They seem to complement each other very well.

It’s obvious that Yildiz didn’t find the person she was looking for, she found someone better.

He watches how they interact, how they look at each other, and how they easily shadow each
other’s movements. There’s no denying that they’re in love.

He’s surprised when something bumps against his thigh and when he looks down, there’s a small
child clinging onto his legs.

“Hi,” the child says, looking up at him with familiar blue eyes.

“Hello,” he greets. He has no doubt who this child is.

“This is Mehmet,” Yildiz introduces. “Our cutest little brother.” She says this as she ruffles his
hair. The little boy smiles up his sister.

“I brought him with me from Izmir,” Yakup says. “He couldn’t wait to see Hilal.”

“I got to ride a plane!” Mehmet exclaims excitedly. He hasn’t let go of Leon’s leg yet.

“Mehmet, this is Leon,” Yildiz tells her brother. She crouched down to tell him this. “He’s a good
friend of ours when we were kids.”

Mehmet finally steps away from Leon’s leg and holds out a chubby hand. “Hello Leon! I’m
Mehmet! It’s very nice to meet you!”

The kid is so cute. Leon can’t help but bend down a little just to shake the little boy’s hand. “It’s
very nice to meet you too, Mehmet.”

“Will you be my friend too?” Mehmet asks him. “Hilal tells me all about you. You taught her how
to read!”

Leon chuckles and can’t help but ruffle the boy’s hair. He already feels the giddiness forming
inside him from being told that Hilal talks about him. “I did.”

“I know how to read now. Hilal taught me. Will you read to me?” the little boy asks and Leon
melts at how familiarly sparkly Mehmet’s hopeful eyes look at him. He’s reminded of how Hilal
used to look at him when they were younger.

“Sure, you can show me your favorite book later,” he says and already loves how big Mehmet
smiles at him.

“Yildiz!” they hear Hilal call from the kitchen. There’s a little urgency to her voice but Yildiz just
rolls her eyes. “I left her to look after the food for a while,” she says in lieu for an explanation.

Yakup picks his small brother-in-law and carries him into the living room under his arm. The little
boy’s squeals follow after him. Leon follows Yildiz into the kitchen to see Hilal poking at
something on a tray.

“It smells good in here,” he remarks and Hilal looks at him in surprise.

“You’re early,” she huffs and turns to her sister. “I don’t know if this is ready. You told me it’ll
take five minutes more but I’m not convinced.”

Yildiz sighs at her checks the food herself. “I’ll handle the food here. You can show Leon around,
I guess,” she says and basically shooing them both from the kitchen.

Hilal pouts but leaves anyway. Leon just laughs and follows her out.

“It did smell good in there,” he says as they make their way to the living room where Mehmet’s
laughter could be heard.

She tuts. “Yildiz made the food, I was just on standby to make sure it didn’t burn. I’m not very
helpful besides making coffee,” she says it with a shrug.

“To be fair, it’s pretty good coffee,” he smiles and she bumps her shoulder to his in gratitude.

They decide to join Yakup and Mehmet who are chasing each other across the room. Hilal
immediately brightens at the sight of her younger brother laughing so freely. She immediately joins
the chase and Mehmet lets out a very loud shout of joy when she tackles him with tickles.

It may be loud, but Leon doesn’t mind it because it’s the cutest thing he’s seen in a long while. Not
to mention that Hilal looks even more carefree. He watches them play for a while until Yakup
excuses himself to help his wife in the kitchen. Mehmet and Hilal end up sitting beside Leon on the
couch: the little boy squished between them as he forces them to read to him a book about plants.
(It’s his favorite book apparently. And he shoots Hilal a questioning stare when he learns it's one of
the only books Mehmet knows how to read. Hilal just shrugs and mouths, “Symposium” at him
and he doesn’t comment any further about the subject.)
There was a point in Leon’s life where he didn’t bother about children before. He only realized he
wanted kids—a family—right after his father died. His cousin’s younger children all came for the
funeral and he remembers how a great comfort they had been. Right after that, he found himself
looking at children (and babies--BABIES) more fondly. His mother used to joke that his maternal
(yes, she meant to say maternal deliberately) instinct was switched on.

He couldn’t even disagree with her because it was true. There was something inside him that made
him want to have kids and the idea wasn’t as scary as it was before.

Naturally, this moment with Hilal and Mehmet is reminding him of that want. It’s making him
think how he could see this moment being relived in some alternate future where the child between
them is their own. He’s not really sure if that’s possible, but he likes the image in his head anyway.

(His wayward mind offers him a glimpse of Hilal being round with their child and he immediately
shoos it away. It’s not really healthy for his mental state to be thinking of a future that may not
happen. And it won’t do any good either if he randomly gets turned on with the idea of getting
Hilal pregnant. With her being so close. And a literal child between them.)

Yildiz calls them for dinner and Hilal dutifully brings Mehmet to wash up. Leon helps set the table
and soon they all gather to enjoy the food.

It’s as if Hilal isn’t leaving. Everyone jokes, tells stories, and recounts memories. Yakup
particularly enjoys Leon’s anecdotes of what Yildiz was like when she was a kid, and laughs at the
detailed recounting of what she hoped her husband would be like. Yildiz takes all that with a roll in
the eyes and half-hearted slaps to her husband’s arm.

Dinner ends when Mehmet yawns and tells everyone he’s tired. Yildiz and Hilal tuck him to bed as
the men are left to clean up the table. When the sisters return, the dishes have been washed and put
away. Yildiz kisses her husband’s cheek in gratitude.

They all sit down on the sofa.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” Yildiz says with a sigh, petting her sister’s head. “Going to just
one different country isn’t enough for you and now there’s no stopping you, is there?”

Hilal smiles. “It’s not forever, Yildiz.”

“It better not be. You keep going to places and don’t settle anywhere. I’d be much more willing to
let you go if you’d call once in a while.”

Leon laughs softly. That sounds familiar.

Yildiz coos. “Aww, my baby sister!” she pulls Hilal into a hug.

“Yildiz!” Hilal protests and Leon can’t help but smile fondly at them. He always used to see them
arguing or disagreeing on things. It’s nice to see a change in scenery once in a while. He looks and
sees Yakup smiling at them too.

“We’re going to miss you so much!” Yildiz says and peppers some kisses on her sister’s face.
“Won’t we, Leon?” she turns to him with a teasing smile.

Leon is caught a little off-guard but he just nods. “Yeah.”

Hilal gives him a smile when she manages to pull herself away from her sister.
…

Yildiz and Yakup both retire to their room a few minutes later, and Hilal and Leon are left in the
living room. They’re siting beside each other on the sofa with a respectable distance between them.
Surprisingly, Leon isn’t tired yet and he’s not ready to leave either. At the same time, he doesn’t
want to overstay his welcome and readies to excuse himself.

“You can stay for a while,” Hilal says when Leon makes a move to stand up. “If you like,” she
adds, probably realizing how demanding her initial tone sounded.

“You’re not tired?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Oddly enough, no. You’d think preparing for dinner and taking care of a
hyperactive boy almost the whole day would tire me out, but I’m not.”

Leon chuckles. “Are you nervous?”

“Of leaving? Of going to an entirely different country? Maybe. Yes. But I’m not scared.”

He nods. “Of course, you’re not. It’ll take more than that to scare you, Hilal.”

Hilal rolls her eyes fondly. He’s going to miss seeing her do that. “Oh, I almost forgot something.
Wait here,” he says and stands up to retrieve something from the hallway. His looks through the
inner pockets of his coat and digs out a small but heavy parcel wrapped in recycled paper. When he
returns to the living room, Hilal is still seated where she is.

“I figured this is just fitting as a parting gift,” he says as he sits closer beside her and hands her the
parcel.

She looks at him curiously and gently takes the wrapper off the parcel. She laughs when she sees
it’s a book. “You’re actually very sentimental, aren’t you?” she asks as she scans the cover of the
hard bound book. It’s an old edition of Homer’s Odyssey in Greek.

“I wonder what message you’re trying to give me here this time,” she says, tucking the book close
to her chest.

Leon laughs. “I took care of that this time. Just so there are no miscommunications or weird
connotations, I wrote a message. Open it.”

She obeys and flips the book. He’s written a short message on one of the front pages. She smiles
when she spots it and laughs when she reads it. “Thank you.”

Book 5, 177-179.

“No miscommunications, but you want me to hunt for the line and interpret it?” she questions.

He shrugs. “Well, I’m a philosophy professor, I don’t just tell you what it should mean. And
besides, you’re the history expert here; I trust you not to read the quote out of context.”

She looks at the book and assess it, almost the same way she did when he gave her the
Symposium.
“And,” he adds. “The best part is that you don’t have to wait thirteen years to tell me what you
think about it.”

Hilal laughs. “Yes, I think that is the best part. I’ll definitely bug you and I don’t care if we’re at
different time zones.”

He smiles when he thinks that she’s welcome to. “You know, you can just tell me where you’re
going so I won’t bug you when we are at different time zones.”

She shakes her head. Despite all this, Hilal still doesn’t want to tell him where she’s going for her
Masters. It’s been a question she adamantly refuses to answer the past few days. Leon doesn’t
really mind though. She doesn’t have to tell him, and really, he doesn’t think it’ll make a
difference.

“You’ll know when I send you a postcard,” she teases and he rolls his eyes.

“Well then, I hope you send one as soon as you land.” He stands up now and stretches a bit. “I
think it’s time for me to go.”

“Let me walk you to the door,” she says and stands up.

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner. Tell Yildiz too. And it’s really nice to meet Yakup and Mehmet.
Your brother is more adorable than what you’ve told me.”

“He really likes you, you know,” she says. “He just showed me and Yildiz the next book he wants
you to teach him to read.”

He smiles at that. “You’re leaving for Istanbul the day after next?”

“Yes, I’ll be busy preparing for it tomorrow.”

“All right. I won’t keep you. But you’ll call when you’re at the airport, won’t you?”

Hilal nods. “Yes, but I’m sure Yildiz will be updating you by the hour anyway.”

He chuckles and puts on his coat. Hilal is still holding on to the book he gave her and that comforts
him. She’s also holding the book with the hand that has the bracelet he bought her from the fair.
“This is it then,” he sighs. “I’m going to miss you, Hilal.”

She smiles sadly. “I’m going to miss you too.”

He can’t help it and hugs her. They don’t part for a while, and Leon eventually lets go.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t cry, nor does he have the urge to. But seeing Hilal look up sadly at him
breaks him just a little. He’s surprised when she pulls him back just as he’s about to turn to leave.

“Hilal?”

He’s even more surprised when she raises herself on her toes to kiss him on the mouth. It’s short.
Just a firm press of lips, but it’s enough to make Leon short circuit. She pulls away and looks at
him to see his reaction.

“Hilal,” he breathes and leans down to make it easier for her this time. Their mouths slide perfectly
this time and he can’t hear or feel anything besides the loud thudding of his heart against her chest,
and the soft skin of her lips.

When they pull apart, he rests his forehead against hers. Fucking hell. He kissed her. She kissed
him. What the hell just happened? Why now? They could’ve been doing this the whole time.

“Don’t overthink this,” she says, briefly sliding their lips together.

“Fuck,” he just says and hugs her. He snuggles against her neck. “This isn’t goodbye,” he says,
repeating the words she told him days ago.

“This isn’t goodbye,” Hilal nods with a watery laugh.

He kisses her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and her lips because he can’t help himself. Hilal
doesn’t push him away anyway and she lets him kiss her.

Pulling away and leaving seems so much harder than he’d thought it would be.

It’s been a few weeks since Hilal left.

He hasn’t received any messages from her since that one time she texted him she got to land safely.
She also did text him that she won’t be messaging a lot since she’ll be busy settling down. He
understands, but that doesn’t make him miss her any less, and doesn’t make him think of her any
less. In fact, it feels like he never goes an hour without thinking of her.

They haven’t talked about the kiss, and he hasn’t told anyone about it. Hell, he hasn’t completely
processed it either if he were to be completely honest with himself. He keeps zoning out, reliving
the moment in his head, and he’s not the only one who’s noticed it.

Ali Kemal is giving him shit over it and keeps making attempts to make Leon tell him. His co-
workers at work keep asking if he’s okay or if he’s feeling sick.

(In a way, he is. He wants to slap himself for being this bad.)

The fall semester had just started and Leon is back on his cubicle. He’s busy updating himself on a
few reading materials when Carrie drops by the faculty room. His initial thought was that Tevfik
probably has another task for him until Carrie hands him an envelope. He sees a stamp from
Greece and assumes it’s from his mother.

“Thank you, Carrie,” he smiles at her and she nods in acknowledgement.

He sets the reading material aside and looks at the envelope. It’s odd though, because there isn’t a
return address on the envelope. Only his name and the school address are written there, but he
recognizes the handwriting almost immediately.

He opens it and finds a postcard of a familiar picture of the Parthenon. He flips the card over and
sees Hilal’s name in Greek.

Here’s your postcard. Now go call your mother, Telemachus.

--Hilal

Leon laughs. She’s in Athens and he should’ve seen that coming. Of course, she’s there. Why else
would she be learning Greek? Why else was she so secretive about where she’s going? And oh, his
mother has been quiet recently. She doesn’t text him as much to remind him to call. He’s willing to
bet she knows that Hilal is there.

He takes the postcard with him when he leaves for a more private area. He does the math and he
knows it’s relatively early in Athens still. He calls his mother and she answers the phone at the first
ring as usual.

“Leonidas,” she greets with a tone so heavy with knowing.

“Mitéra,” he greets with the same tone. “Is Hilal with you?”

His mother laughs. “Of course, you only call if it’s about Hilal! I feel very loved, Leon!”

“Mitéra, you know I love you and I won’t have it any other way, but can you please pass the phone
to Hilal if she’s there with you.”

“Of course she’s with me. I’m cooking her dinner since I haven’t done so for my own son in
years.”

“Mitéra!” he borderline whines.

“Entáxei oraía!” his mother laughs and he hear her call out Hilal’s name. “I have to admit, my heart
breaks a little that I’m not the only woman in your heart, kamari mou.”

“What are you talking about, Mitéra? I’m not the only man in your heart either!”

She only tuts and there’s silence for a while.

“Leon?”

Hilal.

It’s like breathing a fresh air hearing her voice again.

“You could’ve just told me you were going to Athens,” is the first thing he says.

She chuckles. Good God. How does she sound so perfect even through phone?

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You do realize I’m going over there the next free opportunity I get?”

“How horrible of you! You haven’t visited your mother in years and here you are thinking of
visiting just because I’m here!”

“Okay, maybe I’ve been a bad son in that regard, but that’s not stopping me for flying there to see
you. Both of you.”

There’s someone talking in the background and he bets it’s his mother. Hilal laughs. “Your mother
told me to tell you that if you are staying, you better for a month or else she’s disowning you and
adopting me instead.”

“That’s enough time to spend time with my two favorite people,” he says, already planning on how
take a leave from work and what’s going to happen to his classes. “And there will be no disowning
or adopting happening!” he says loudly, hopefully his mother can hear.
 “Your mother just rolled her eyes,” Hilal adds with another laugh. “She just misses you.”

“And what about you? Do you miss me?”

Hilal chuckles. “You’re not getting an answer out of me.”

“That’s not fair, it’s an easy question.”

“Like I said, where’s the fun in that?”

“You don’t make it easy, do you?”

“Hmm, why don’t you come here and find out?”

He will.

End.

Chapter End Notes

First and foremost, thank you very much for reading this story!

I haven't been very active in responding to comments mostly because I've been having
a weird case of imposter syndrome. (I'm so shy just reading the response to this fic that
I don't know what to say or do besides squeal on my pillow.) But I appreciate every
single one of you who have read, gave kudos, bookmarked, and commented on this
work.

This story was intended as a short one-shot that later got out of hand. I didn't expect it
to turn into a 30k worded monstrosity. (I blame Hileon really.)

I've been writing this story in between work, and I've been obsessed for the last three
weeks because of the series. I watched it for Hileon but ended up loving the series and
now I don't know what to do with myself.

Not gonna lie, I found it a little difficult to stay true with the characters of the series
and I got so surprised that some of you thought I did a good job at it. You have no idea
how validating that is. I'm sending you virtual sugar cookies and Turkish coffee.

I also found it difficult in tackling the issue that is the difference between religions
between Hilal and Leon. I tried to be respectful of Islam and the notion of Muslim
women without accidentally stereotyping them or spreading generalizations about
them. I had to a little digging into Islam and modern takes of Islam, especially with
 regards to Muslim women because I'm a little ignorant about it and all I know are
shamefully what little representations they have in media (if you've seen Skam, or the
recreations, then you know what I know or more). I didn't want to be intimidated and
write Hilal's religion off when it's a big part of her.

(Also, using the term head scarf instead of hijab was a deliberate choice on my part.
This is because Turkey is a secular country and everyone is free to practice and
express their religion in different ways. There are a number of Muslim women who
don't wear head covers or hijabs (even around the world). My headcanon for a modern
Hilal is someone who believes in her faith, but can't be blind to the contradictions and
the issues she knows are there to her religion, and as some sort of compromise, she
wears a head scarf instead of a traditional hijab. It's sort of the same way that a
Christian can get religious tattoos despite many saying it's a sin against God for
defiling the body He gave you. In other words, it's Hilal's way of expressing her
religion and her faith, like how many others do so in different ways.)

In the end, I decided to write the resolution of those differences in a bonus chapter
since the third part of this story ended up being 13k.

I don't know when I'll be finishing that chapter since I've been writing anecdotes and
small parts for other shorter stories other than this one. Seriously, I've been having a
bout of creativity since starting this fic, and I want to take advantage of that as much as
I can. So, I guess this is my way of saying that I'll be posting more Hileon fics in the
near future, and hopefully it can inspire a few shippers to make their own. LET'S GET
THIS FANDOM SAILING.

Thank you again, and from the very bottom of my heart, I appreciate every single one
of you!

Until the next update,

punkchestnuts

End Notes

You can also read this fic on tumblr:

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/punkchestnuts

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