Last Sacrifice | #Wattys2018

Chapter Seven

Rayhan slumped against the backdoors of the bakery's kitchen. He was exhausted. He had run the shop by himself for a week now and not once did he get a break. His white t-shirt was plastered with sweat against his sculpted chest, it was see through and it only showed more of his tanned, olive skin. He raked his fingers through his small beard, sweat drops getting caught on his finger tips. It was the closing hours of the shop, and he made no hesitation at exactly 6PM to flip the sign to a firm 'WE ARE CLOSED' before retreating to the kitchen. There were tons of dirty dishes laying in the sink and they just seemed to mock his efforts.

Just like his father.

'Please speak to me,' Rayhan pleaded to the sad old man sitting across from him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get a word out from him. 'You can't do this again, Baba. I refuse to let you sit here and pity yourself like this.'

There wasn't a sound that came out from him, no nod or shake, nothing.

Couldn't his father see how much his son was suffering, with both his close friend and father lifeless?

There lay untouched food, next to his bedside which only increased Rayhan in worry. He could only do so much. And he wasn't bringing back his father any time soon.

It required a miracle.

There was a sudden knock on the door that shook Rayhan from his thoughts, or rather depressing flashbacks. He grunted with annoyance at someone constantly knocking against the windowpane of the shop. Couldn't they read the sign? They were 'CLOSED'! He wondered whether he should just let the annoying person knock for hours on end. He stood up abruptly, he wasn't in the mood at all.

A thick dark grey cloud aligned the sky with its tears as thick hailstones, beating upon the pavement heavily. He thought for the person waiting in the cold rain, and soon his natural caring nature followed through. He sprinted to the shops entrance and only halted in his steps as he met with a set of beautiful black eyes.

There was the thick glass door that had separated them and the pitter-patter of rain against the lamppost, the only hint that this was real. Time seemed to freeze as he stared straight into her soul. His hands in complete obedience unlocked the door and with a loud creak and the usual chime that was memorised in his mind, he opened the door.

She walked into the shop, breathing softly against the thin fabric of her veil. It had plastered across her face, revealing the outline of the tip of her nose and her bottom lip. The rain seemed to give a shiny glow to her pale white face, and her eyes were moistened with each drop. She must have been waiting there for a long time.

Crap.

He couldn't speak, all he could do was stare at her. A small hand waved in front of his face and he felt as if he had been hypnotised. Hypnotised with her beauty and elegance.

'I'm sorry?' He could only manage to get out a small question before clearing his throat a thousand times.

'Your sorry? I should be. I knew you were closed I just needed a place to retreat from the rain,' Hayat observed him closely and twisted her brows in confusion. 'I'm sorry, who are you? The only staff member I remember working here was a man named Abdullah?'

Oh no.

'Um. Actually, I work here too, just um- not on those days...' Rayhan thought of every stupid excuse he could, but his mind was far from functioning. Perfect timing.