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• Lilah's Fit •

• Lilah's Fit •

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• Lilah •

November was almost at it's end. The weather that had started off as a warm, humid autumn was now finally in the beginnings of turning into a pretty winter. Strong cold winds had replaced the softer Zephyrs from the start of the month. The bright warm sun, had fallen into deep depths, the skies like a thick cloak had turned grey, camouflaging against the wolves furry skin. Stars that had once twinkled in the clear roof, now were like a distant dream — a question of their existence marked minds. Extravagant and luxurious jackets that served more as style statements were thrown into the back of closets, replaced with thick fur of leather ones, their warmth good enough to calm the freezing bone.

At night, the lights in Rome no longer burned so bright. In their stead they fireplaces had taken over. Open windows did not reflect the glossy chandeliers on her block, instead, each had a warm afterglow. The orange—almost rusty fire in the brick fireplaces cast shadows darker than a ravens. Work hours were cut short, the vintage cars that were at first parked carelessly at the end of the road now took shelter in the underground parking lots.

Heavy, silvery fog had become the reality. Every morning, rather than a sating warm light, Lilah woke up to the dark skies. She would shiver and nuzzle deeper into her warm duvet. Her heart was still not settled with the cold of Rome, Lahore's chill now seemed like a wish. With fatigued muscles she would rush through her morning routine, brushing her teeth and guzzling the porridge down in one breath. Every moment made her miss winters with her parents. They would make her warm milk with honey before she got out of bed, her aunt would make her the softest of gold pancakes, her brother's already waiting with their thick hoodies in hand.

Once the desolate and lonely winters had settled in to the pavements in Rome completely, Lilah had felt her heart cave in. A spell of dizziness followed by tender cries were her reality after that. Many a evenings she would sob into the memory foam of her sofa, craving the arms of her family around her. Not only had her routine been disrupted — first winter away from home was not what she imagined it to be. Lilah Alamgeer, did not feel like the glossy hair heroines of the many chic romcoms she had watched as a teenager. Instead, Lilah thought of herself as a stray kitten shivering in search of shelter, yet everyone ignored her in their cruelty. Their hearts were like the icy snow. Many mornings had she started with her head bowed in front of God, seeking his help. Her tears would soak the thick emerald prayer mat but do little to diminish the emptiness that she had been gifted with.

With shaky hands Lilah looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were pale and lips were cracked. The slender fingers touched her tender scalp with the lightest of touches. Nicole had pulled at it, not with ill intentions but now she could feel a dull throb at the back of her head. Lilah in an instant regretted telling her to back comb it and set it in loosely curled strands — but she had wanted to make an effort.

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