The distant screech of a bird in the night of the island kept Javed awake. Not that a single bird was loud or annoying enough to ruin that <i>vacation<\i> he and Viktor had decided on a whim.
They had the whole Isla de Sal to themselves.
Though Javed could not shake the doubt that had crept on him right after barely escaping the Tomb.
On the one hand, his recent brush with death and salvation at the hand of an infedel had convinced Javed that Allah didn't exist or that He did exist and He was an almighty asshole.
On the other hand, surviving a bullet to the head long enough to allow the doctor to save him could not be explained any other way than by God's will.
And then there was Viktor.
Not only the now hypotetical Allah had saved his life, but He had allowed him to find Viktor in the free world, He allowed for them to be together and live happily.
So either Allah didn't exist and Javed Al-Fadhil was the luckiest man alive, or He was very real and the Qur'an was wrong. Because why else would Javed be saved, when his survival had pushed him to a series of deadly sins the Qur'an condamned?
The sounds Viktor made in his sleep snapped Javed back to reality. He had never been so happy in his life to hear someone snore. It felt like such a show of trust, to him, that he would sleep so sound in his presence.
Seeing Viktor Mannheim, the man he knew as Emil Rottmayer, alive and well enough to snore like some sort of boar made Javed glad to still be walking the Earth.
And yet again, staring at the symmetry of that face, he wondered.
If Allah didn't exist, how could something so perfect be the product of fate?
A mosquito flew by and Viktor curled his nose and pulled a face, distorting his light snoring into an annoyed grunt and Javed tried his best not to laugh.
Maybe it was just fate. After all, he was not really perfect and his snoring and laughter could get somewhat annoying.
But Javed wouldn't have changed it for all of Allah's virgins.