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Carpe Noctem

Seize the Night

Meral x Aydın

MenajerimiAra

"I want movement, not a calm course of existence. I want excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I feel in myself a superabundance of energy which finds no outlet in our quiet life."

-Leo Tolstoy

* * *

Her thumb hovered over the number, only to be used in case of an emergency.

Well, this qualified as an emergency in her opinion. Dicle had not responded to her texts for an hour about whether she had reached Barış or not, and worry was clawing at Meral's insides. She decided to call.

'Merhaba. Aydın? This is Meral.....Dicle's housemate."

A low chuckle sounded at the other end. "Merhaba. Yes, this is Aydın, Barış's brother."

"I know who you are."

"And I know who you are."

She rolled her eyes. " Harika. I was just calling to ask if Dicle texted you or......" she trailed off, suddenly realising how awkward this was. Damn it. She was never anything less than sensible.

"Not since I texted her the address. Is there any problem?"

"Yok. Yok. I just worried since it's quite late and the neighbourhood.....well they must be talking and she forgot."

"Hmm. Yes. Talking. Probably."

She had the feeling he was laughing at her and bristled. " Well, thankyou. Sorry to bother you. Iyi geceler."

* * *

He could imagine her derisive look, the one he had seen her wearing when talking about Beren. The idea of her rolling her eyes sparked something in him and made him want to snatch the opportunity.

"Wait-"

"Yes?"

"Um....." he did not know what to say, and he was sorely out of practice with conversing about anything other than work. "Your concern for Dicle is very touching," he finished lamely.

There was silence on the other end and he could not really blame her.

"Well...thankyou I think? I hope Barış feels better and comes back soon," she sounded sincere in her goodwill and it warmed his heart, as anything related to Barış always did.

"Yes, InşAllah. I met him today, he's doing better now."

"Good to hear..."

"I was wondering, if you wanted to meet up and discuss? Barış and Dicle, yani. Or general things. Actually more of general things. Since, New Year's was fun and...."

Silence again. He was just about to make sure the call had not dropped, when she spoke, "That sounds great. Where do you want to meet?"

His heart gave an excited thump." Wherever you want."

"Oh, I have a great idea," he heard the smile in her voice that already had him looking forward to tomorrow with a new excitement.

* * *

Her favourite restaurant was roaring with white noise, the air perfumed with spices. Her mouth was watering and she was already anticipating the pleasure the meal would bring to sate her growling stomach. Even her great love of food was not enough to occupy her thoughts entirely, though.

She was nervous and excited; wondering if they would still have the connection she felt at the New Year's party. It was hard to determine what he felt from the few glances they managed to exchange at parties. Her imagined conversations, however, kept being interrupted by the couple arguing right behind her booth.

She sighed. She was just about to turn around and jump in their quarrel, when he arrived.

Meral had convinced herself that her years of romance and dizi infatution had embellished her memory of him. She had taken extra care dressing up, all the while telling herself she was being silly. Neyse, what had all the effort on that doomed Singles Party been for? Only a single glance?

She did not need to worry or dress up, she reassured herself. It was just a pair of acquaintances meeting. It could be fun even.

The reality of him exceeded her memory. He was snug in a crimson sweater, bold and festive; his hair and face shining from the outside cold. He looked brooding in a dangerous sort of way and she was suddenly glad she had gone to the extra effort.

But then he smiled and Meral was forced to consider that smiles always won over broody pouts.

"Hoş Geldin!"

"Hoş Bulduk. Pardon, did I keep you waiting? You seemed to be frustrated when I came in."

"Ha! That wasn't you." She leaned forward and lowered her voice- motioning to the booth behind her- and he did the same." I was about to join in their fascinating discussion about stocks and resolve the issue for them. As an unbiased third party."

"Ofcourse, because you are an accountancy expert."

"No, because I'm incurably nosy."

He barked a surprised laugh at her.

"Do you often get involved in things that are none of your business?" he said, trying to match her tone.

"Unfortunately, no. That's Dicle. I always gather information but only get in fights that are my business. And I win." She sent a quick prayer of thanks for the loud couple for kickstarting their conversation.

"Öyle mı?"

"Aynen."

"Speaking of Dicle, how is Kiraç Bey doing?"

"Much better!"

"Good to hear. Geçmiş olsun."

"Sağ ol."

She was just thinking they were in danger of lapsing into an awkward pause, when the waiter arrived to save them from it.

"Hoş Geldin. Meral Hanım, the usual?"

"Yes, please!"

"You come here often? I'll have what the lady is having then," Aydın said, closing the menu.

"Yes, I love this place. It's so close to our home too," she continued after the waiter had left. "You're sitting in our special booth, actually."

"Whose?"

"Dicle and mine. We always sit in the same place everytime so the staff practically has it reserved for us."

He smiled but then a teasing glint came into his eyes, "Same place, same order. You don't like new possibilities?"

She could not believe he had hit close to her vulnerable spot so quickly. Half of her wanted to welcome the exploration, delighting in someone trying to know her. The other half, the dominant, ever-sensible one wanted to retreat.

"I do. But there's comfort in familiarity. Honestly? I've realised I would thrive in a communist setting."

Aydın laughed, spluttering, the glass of water raised midway." You say the oddest things."

The pleasure of making him laugh made her glow and she relaxed. "If I have too many choices, it’s my fault if I make the wrong one. But if decisions have been made for me? Not only can I complain to my heart's content, but I also feel like I have triumphed against great odds in the struggle to become the independent woman that I am."

“You see odds in everything? I see now why you chose this job." He was regarding her with respect and curiosity. The combination made her feel heady, wanting to let her guard down.

"Why?"

"You get to calculate odds and meddle with everyone's business on a professional basis.”

It was her turn to laugh in surprise.

* * *

As they ate, they talked about everything from history, to food to dizis, the conversation darting in different directions. Meral could see his quiet intelligence, his attention to detail. She could not remember simply enjoying talking this much before. He had a ready response to everything. Words and laughter were bubbling inside her.

"I better warn Barış. You've watched too many serial killer movies and would leave no trace."

"You can relax. He's not on my hit list yet."

At his devious smile, she pointed at him with her fork. "For now. He's on my good side for now."

"Don't worry, he's a true romantic. He would never do anything that would get him on your hit list."

Her face softened into a smile, "He really his."

"You know, sometimes I feel like I'm their Teyze."

"Barış and Dicle? From a hitman to a teyze?" he grinned at her.

"Yes.Yani, I cook and clean, which I love to anyway. But then being the unwanted third wheel living in her children's house, I leave quietly once I know he's coming over."

"Oh well, I'm the teyze in our house then. You know when- " he stopped at her burst of laughter. "What?"

"I'm sorry- I just-" she said between gasps, "imagining you as a cranky teyze is- actually that's a pretty good description."

"Oh, you think so? As I was saying," he said in mock affrontery, "after Barış got shot, he was trying desperately to be alone with Dicle. But-'

He was laughing so hard he could barely get the words out and she joined in aswell.

He gathered himself and began again," But every single person we know other than Dicle was appearing at our doorstep. And, you remember, Celal Bey? He brought a mountain of food over. And then when Dicle was finally coming over, what did Barış do? Beyeffendi handed me a couple of boxes and told me to disappear."

"How cruel."

Their laughter gradually faded into comfortable smiles. "That man eats like every meal is his last meal," Meral said.

"Evet, but who does not enjoy food though?" he said with a pointed look towards her just to see her reaction and earned an olive in his face for the jab.

"Ow! How do you know how Celal Bey eats anyway?"

"I saw him. At the TV dinner? In the restaurant you recommended?"

"What?"

Her subconcious writer, which had been busy penning their story, suddenly deflated at him not even remembering their first meeting. What hope did a romance have when one party did not even remember the meet-cute? And since when was she considering this a date? Or a romance?

She shook her head and focused back to the present. His expression was serious now, devoid of all the teasing warmth.

"Yes, I remember. I'm sorry you had to see me that way. That wasn't my best behaviour."

He gazed out the window. Meral was dying to know more, to smooth over the lull in the conversation but afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Finally he met her gaze, having made a decision. "I've always been practical all my life. Had to be. Barış and my father are quite hot tempered and.....impulsive, so I was mostly making the money, holding down the jobs. Keeping the job and the peace. I don't apologise for doing what had to be done."

"Tabi canım, you don't have to explain to me. Pragmatic is my middle name." she agreed easily, yet touched that he had shared some small part of himself.

'To doing what needs to be done," she raised her çay in a toast. He smiled and some of the light heartedness returned.

"I understand that life is more than making money and looking attractive. I know I pressured Barış- even got into a fight with Dicle," he glanced at her embarrassed.

"Growing up, our mahalle just reinforced that a happy life is the type of life that photographs well. I know this isn’t true- now- but it’s hard not to think this way. I’ve internalized it."

"I know." Her voice was soft and sincere, easing some of his discomfort. "That's what our lives have become these days. If only we remember to live the moments that we love to photograph."

"Evet. How right you are."

"And this isn't off the back of some truck. This is my own wisdom." She was grateful to see him smile again.

"Gathered during hours of repetitive work. I sit in that room each day, half my mind on the numbers, half in my infinitely more adventurous world."

"You call that repetitive?! I would love that! The assurity of routine."

He sat back with a sigh. "I had so many jobs, never knowing when one would end. Mesela, my current job with Serkan Bey? I finally know some part of what each day brings."

"But don't you miss the excitement of new things?"

"I guess I would thrive in a communist setting too, Meral Hanım. But this sector already has so many new weird things happening everyday, it's never the same."

"Oh you're a veteran of 'this sector' now?"

"Absolutely. Ha! But truly I.....feel like I belong? Actually, Serkan helped me in a difficult situation and I ended up here. I realised I actually enjoy it. I find I have a talent for organising. And persuading and cajoling. Although, if you listen to the whims of all these people! You come across some complete- well I shouldn't say but- Even more than what I met as a taxi driver. I-"

He stopped and seemed to gather himself. "Just glad I have security. The comfort of certainty."

Meral was fascinated hearing him talk, his eyes lit with keen intelligence. She wished she could revel in the comfort he described, but lately she felt stuck in a rut. She had told him she did not like choices but that was not true. She yearned to take chances. Her life had become a collection of the same days, same nights out with the same people. This evening was the only thing breaking the endless monotony.

"I bet you have great stories to tell though. I love listening to stories. We get absolute weirdos at our place aswell but it's ultimately boring. I live vicariously through Dicle."

"I think we should stop talking about them as if we're the side characters."

"Yani?"

"Yani novel falan filan. We keep talking about Barış and Dicle. We should focus on us a little, I think."

His voice had dropped at the end, his eyes on her felt like a caress. Meral could feel something tugging at her to explore this new territory, to take the chance she kept telling others to. But, imagining something in your head was vastly different than having that play out in real life. She fell back on her customary sarcasm.

"Ah, novels. I see I've already corrupted your practicality. 50 points to Ravenclaw."

He had been giving her a lazy smile but groaned at her words. "You're both 'Potterheads'?"

"I thought we weren't talking about them."

"We won't. Because I don't know where to even begin about this. We watched the movies when we were younger, but apparently that's not enough and Barış has been trying to get into 'the fandom'." His voice was a mix of exasperation and affection.

She cried out in mock outrage trying to hide her glee, "Did you just air quote again? And ofcourse that is not enough. I'm glad he is on the right path."

'Neyse. And before you say anything, yes, I know I'm a Slytherin.'

'Oh absolutely," she laughed at his disgruntled form languishing in the booth.

'Ee?'

She raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"So how did you get into the wonders of accounting. I've been spilling all my secrets to you and you give nothing away. Hadi, don't make me take out my truth potion."

"Tsk, tsk. Banning magical discourse and then indulging in it yourself? Shameless."

His quick smile seemed to seep into her.

"Lütfen ya, give me something here. You mentioned you shifted to Istanbul?"

"Yes I did. But that is a story for another day. It's getting late. I think the owner might be coming to personally throw us out."

Her humour just kept surprising him anew; he could not remember when he had last laughed so much.

* * *

As they walked back to her house, he noticed her slowing slightly. "Are you tired?"

"Biraz. My soul wants to party but my body is of an old woman."

"And what do old women like doing at night?" he cringed at how it sounded.

"Well it's winter so, we drink hot chocolate wrapped in blankets, and avoid people."

"Well people are sources of warmth aswell." Damn. There she was, throwing out words in bright clusters all night, like the gentle snow falling around them.

And everything he said was coming out like an innuendo.

"I mean, figurative warmth. The pleasure of company."

She just raised her eyebrows and hid a smile behind her hand.

"We revel in solitude."

"I didn't know you were that eager to get away from me."

"Oh, you have no idea."

"I think I have some idea." There was something about her, that just made him fall into this teasing, snappy rhythm.

"But we've only met twice. That's not enough data points to form an accurate picture."

"We have met more than twice. And you're doing this on purpose aren't you?"

"What?"

"Mentioning data points now that I've confessed my love for organisation."

Her laughter rang out in the hushed street.

The snow was falling around them gently, giving everything a glittering glow. Her impish face was turned upto his, the snowflakes in her hair like diamonds and dissolving on her lips.

He had the sudden urge to taste that snowflake, run his tongue along the seam of her lips.

Something inside him held him back. He was afraid it was too soon. Afraid to burst this, whatever magic they had between them, just as it was beginning.

Meral could see the moment he decided to forego kissing, the fire in his eyes cooling as they returned to their normal lazy depths. Keen disappointnent burned inside her but was chased away by the still buzzing energy that had been between them all evening.

This evening had already proved to be much more than her normal. An outlier. She wanted to capture the bright feeling, like a firefly; bask in the light for a brief moment and then let go.

"Thankyou. It was..." Unique. Comfortable. Thlrilling, all at once. "Fun. I enjoyed spending time with you."

Surprisingly, her shyness made him bolder. "Me too. I would love to do this again." She looked up. "If you want to, I mean."

"I wasn't angling for an invitation."

"I know. But it stands regardless. I would love to do this again." He could not believe he had managed to get that out without tripping over his words.

The tentative smile on her face made him add, " I must prove I'm the ultimate teyze between us. I'll cook for you."

"Şaka?!" she gave a delighted laugh. "Well then, let the Battle of the Teyzes commence."

When he took her proffered hand, their was a slight shock, as if their bodies were completing the circuit, that energy finally finding a closed loop.

"O zaman, iyi olan kazansın," he said softly.

"Iyi olan kazansın."

"Iyi geceler. Meral." he said, finally breaking the handshake.

"Iyi geceler." She went in and turned at the doorstep. "Aydin."

His name on her lips, materialising in the cold air for a second.

He smiled that slow smile again. An outlier. An input that could start new trends, open new possibilities, change everything.

* * *

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