Fucking Besties!

‘You have to go through all this.’ Sarah loved saying that to people, ‘Perks of being with me.’
‘I never objected that.’ He replied watching Sarah recline in her chair. The same chair that has been a trademark of every office, with steel legs to support the uncomfortable leather seat. But she was comfortable while, he, standing infront of her in his denim jacket with contrasting pulled up jeans and snickers, didn’t have the casualness of his dress in the air around him.
‘I know that you would never object. You are too sweet to object.’ She played along with his discomfort. Her comfortable posture remained intact, giving away no signs of calmness in the blackness of her stunning suit, clutching her white collars, as she rested her matching heels immaculately.
‘People.’ He paused on that word, reminding him of some old experience and stated again, rephrasing it,”Not people but you out of all, know who I am underneath the ‘Great Paul Andrews’.”
‘I know that well Robby, that you are not Paul Andrews, as you put it. You don’t have to act that way to prove it.’ She drew his attention to the odd dressing that he liked to pull off occasionally even while having the right amount of sense and money for good tailors.
‘I thought I would impress you this way.’ he smirked. There was an unsaid peace between them, succeeding a suicidal fight. It was a common ritual. They had fights. They had moments. They had peace.
‘That’s sweet but cheesy. And cheesy is such a lowly adjective.’ She stood up slowly, knowing well the next moves.
Robby moved towards her, ‘Are we open to hugs?’
‘We are!’
He grabbed her like a lost toy that the little child in him yearned for. Pulling her close in his embrace he whispered, ‘Sarah! I’m sorry!’
‘It’s ok. Don’t worry.’ She replied calming him down, still not losing herself.
‘No I just want to be sorry.’ He smiled with a deep breath watching her hair and putting those words in her ear. Even without looking at his face she felt his smile.
‘Well then go ahead.’ playing along she now was losing herself too.
There was silence.
They both parted. As untold fights and peace following them, silence was their most faithful partner. It screamed with an apology to the love Gods, pleading beside the distance between them that no hugs could cover, mocking their minds for being same but not conspiring to become one, giving them a blatant warning for the calamity that unity of their souls would bring.
Sarah, an outlaw disguised in the most formal appearances had a lava that only Robby could kindle with. Oppression and people had made them to raise a silent rebellion against the prevailing world order. People. They both were not people. People didn’t eat and drink with women of low character. Robby and Sarah had common things. They believed in lowering their characters below the worst of all. Below the ladies who feed their homes by spreading their angelic legs to men of high character. They even dived under the ignobility of rapists, murderers, killers and drunkards. They were artists. The best ones that ever could be, shunning aside all the fame and perks of being in their profession.
‘I’m not hungry for love.’ Paul broke the silence.
‘I know that.’ replied Sarah.
“You know why I call you ‘The Queen’?”
“Because I’m ‘The Queen’.”
‘That’s true and I can’t lose my lowness to love.’ He replied while moving his hand briskly over the denim jacket.
‘I know you are too high to be that low. Let’s get ready!’ She moved towards the door and he followed her smiling. She noticed the smile even without looking at him.

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