Fire and Rain [🗸]

12. domestic breakfasts and pretty candles

love u rumi <3

***

SWEETNESS.

That's the scent I wake up to as I sit up on the mattress I've been laying down on, exhaling a yawn as I try to grasp onto my surroundings.

Last night flickers to my mind in short clips. Going to church, talking to homophobic and slightly unsettling Father Lawrence, pain—not physical, but mental, Zahra holding my hands in hers, Zahra driving me to her place.

My eyes blink once when I finally catch up to the present.

I'm in Zahra's room. 

She must've dragged me up here, but there's no sign of her having stayed the night. My eyes flick around the space.

Her room is simple. She has a couple of pictures with piercing and tattoo ideas or inspiration plastered onto the mirror of her dresser. There's a glowing lantern that sits on her dresser alongside candles, a chipped mug, and a green plant in a gray vase.

It's almost exactly like I remember.

There's a little photo of us stuck onto the top corner of her mirror. We're smiling. It was the summer before we went into freshman year. We went to the summer carnival and took one too many photos together. 

We look so young. Zahra has braces, and her hair reaches her shoulders. My hair is in braids, an I'm wearing a necklace with multicolored stars on it. My face is pressed against Zahra's, and we're smiling like every moment led up to us.

"I didn't want to get rid of it."

I startle in the bed, eyes flickering over to the doorway where Zahra's standing. Her hair's wet, and loose curls frame her face. She's wearing a tank and flannel over top of it with sleeves that she has to roll up to prevent them from draping over her hands. 

My mouth opens as my mind runs through different questions. I eventually settle with, "where did you sleep?"

"The couch," Zahra answers. She must see something that crosses my face because she says, "Hey. It's comfy as fuck and I stayed up 'till like one, just watching old reruns of 80s shows." A pause. "Would've invited you but you fell asleep like that." She snaps her fingers once.

I blink. If I spent the night, my parents were bound to have lost their shit. I didn't call, didn't text, didn't nothing. The last text I sent was a message to mom saying that I was heading to church. That was at around 7 last night. They didn't expect me to spend the night away from home.

"Fuck," I say. 

Zahra catches my eyes, and when she seems to find the answer she's looking for, she says, "my parents called yours if that's what you're worried about." 

"What'd they say?" I ask.

"You went to church, ran into me when you were on your way home, and slept over because it was late. Forgot to text because you were tired." She takes a step closer to me, a sort of amused half-grin appearing on her lips. "You're good, alright? I think they bought it. And that's pretty much close to what happened anyway, so."