Mountain View Cabin –

Whispers in the Mountains

by shehzad ali

The mountains rose like sleeping giants against the sky, their peaks veiled in a blush of evening mist. Aisha rolled down the window as their car wound up the narrow road, letting the cool pine-scented air brush against her face. Next to her, Hamza smiled. “Feels like we’re driving into another world,” he said, his hand resting gently over hers.

It had been months since they’d had time for each other. Work, deadlines, and endless city noise had left them both drained. So when Hamza suggested a weekend escape, Aisha didn’t hesitate. She just said yes — and here they were, climbing toward a tiny wooden cabin hidden somewhere among the hills of Nathia Gali.

By the time they arrived, the sun was sinking behind the ridges, spilling gold across the sky. The cabin was small but beautiful — sloping roof, wide balcony, and large windows that opened toward an endless stretch of mountains. The caretaker handed them the key, smiled knowingly, and disappeared down the path.

Aisha stepped inside first. The cabin smelled of cedar and warmth. There was a stone fireplace, a wooden dining table, and a soft throw blanket folded neatly on the couch. Hamza set down their bags and turned on a small lamp, its light filling the room with a golden glow.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

She turned, her eyes shining. “It’s perfect.”

Outside, the mountains were quiet — a silence so deep it hummed. They unpacked lightly, then walked out onto the balcony. The valley below was painted in twilight blues, and the first stars blinked awake above them. Aisha leaned on the railing, breathing it all in.

“It feels like time stopped,” she whispered.

Hamza stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “That’s the point,” he murmured. “No clocks, no emails, no rush. Just us.”

They stayed like that for a long while, saying nothing, watching the horizon fade into night. When they finally went inside, Hamza lit a few candles on the table. He had packed a small bag from home — her favorite dinner: grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and chocolate mousse from the bakery she loved. Aisha laughed when she saw it.

“You planned all this?”

“Maybe,” he said, trying to look casual, though his grin gave him away.

The candlelight flickered across their faces as they ate, the soft glow wrapping the cabin in quiet intimacy. They talked about the past — how they met, their first awkward coffee date, the time they got lost driving to a wedding — and they talked about the future too, not in plans and timelines, but in dreams.

After dinner, they took a walk down a narrow trail that wound through the woods. The moonlight fell in silver patches through the trees. Crickets sang, and the earth smelled of rain and pine needles.

“Remember when we used to take walks after dinner?” Aisha said.

“I remember,” Hamza replied. “You always walked faster than me.”

“I still do.” She laughed, and he pretended to chase her. The sound of her laughter echoed between the trees like soft bells. When he caught up, he held her close, both of them breathless and smiling under the pale moon.

Back at the cabin, they lit the fireplace. The flames crackled softly, throwing orange light across the walls. Aisha curled up beside Hamza on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder. Outside, the wind whispered through the forest, gentle and distant.

“This,” she said quietly, “is all I needed. Just quiet, and you.”

Hamza kissed the top of her head. “Then let’s promise to come back. Every year.”

“Every year,” she agreed, her voice half-asleep.

The night deepened, and the stars multiplied outside the window — countless and bright, like scattered diamonds. Inside, the fire burned low, and the two of them sat in that soft, golden silence where words were no longer needed.

When morning came, the mountains were wrapped in mist again. Aisha woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of birdsong. Hamza was standing by the balcony, two steaming mugs in his hands. She joined him, barefoot and sleepy, and they watched the sunlight spill slowly over the peaks.

For a moment, the whole world felt still. Just the two of them, the mountains, and a quiet that promised they’d always find their way back — to this cabin, to each other, to the peace that lived somewhere between the whispers of the wind and the heartbeat of the hills.