Nagini in Burhan's Thoughts

  At home, Burhan lay on his bed.

  Nagini's face kept appearing in his mind. His chest trembled lightly, sometimes pounding hard. Nervousness filled him.

  Burhan: "Do I really like you, Nagini?"

  His thoughts churned.

  Burhan: "Why is it that whenever I look at you, I forget everything?"

  His mind swirled.

  Burhan: "Your eyes... the way you speak... it all makes my heart fall apart."

  He tossed and turned in bed, sometimes leaning left, sometimes right, sometimes lying flat. He was completely restless. His heart intoxicated by emotion.

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  Burhan: "But you're mysterious. Always keeping your distance."

  He stared at the ceiling again.

  Burhan: "Am I reading too much into this?"

  He covered his face with a pillow. His breathing quickened, frustration rising.

  Burhan: "Crazy! I've only just met you, Nagini..."

  He removed the pillow and gazed at the ceiling again.

  Burhan: "Who are you really, Nagini? Are you truly from the 16th century? Isn't that 500 years ago?"

  His eyes shifted to the corner of his desk.

  Burhan: "Could Nagini really have traveled through time?"

  Back to the ceiling.

  Burhan: "Could I really be one of her descendants? Is this why she keeps her distance?"

  His heart raced uncontrollably.

  Burhan: "Nagini... do you feel what I feel?"

  A thousand questions about Nagini filled his mind.

  ***

  Suro and Burhan

  Nagini grew increasingly restless. Burhan's face and Suro's face kept alternating in her mind.

  Her heart wavered—nervous, confused, curious, and strangely happy all at once. The emotions collided violently inside her chest.

  Nagini: "Burhan! Suro! This isn't right..."

  She got up from the bed, walked to the center of the room, sat cross-legged, closed her eyes, and slowed her breathing to calm herself.

  Nagini meditated.

  Over time, her breathing became steady and even. A thin, cold mist rose from her body, like dense, freezing vapor.

  A soft blue glow enveloped her. The room temperature dropped sharply—becoming icy.

  The apartment windows began to fog. Water in glasses slowly froze.

  Nagini opened her eyes. She stood up, assuming a low stance.

  She moved with a flowing grace like dance, yet each strike and kick carried tremendous force.

  Through the doorway crack, cold vapor escaped. A passerby froze in place as a chill ran through him.

  To be continued