Mending Eachother ✔

17|How come it's possible?

Sitting on the beach her body craves for just one hand around her.
But she was alone and he was long gone.

~~~~~~~~

Happy reading. 🎈

Morning:

Writer POV:

He juggled with the keys and pushed open the door entering his new apartment where reticence welcomed him warmly. He glanced his watch where it told 9 30 am almost. He slammed behind the door and made way to his room. May be she left for her college, he thought before stepping inside his room but something from far in her room caught his attention. With scrunched brows he advanced to her room and blinked twice to register her fragile form laying recklessly on the floor, by witnessing her dress he could conclude that she reamined like that the whole night. His palms itched and he gulped in his spit not knowing what to do exactly.

He let out a sigh before crouching in front of her. He was afraid that she might think he was being concerned for her, honestly he wasn't.

"Laila?" He tapped her cheek lightly but she didn't respond.

"Hey Laila?" He again shrugged her shoulders lightly but she remained still. He touched her hands and forehead, they were as cold as ice. He scooped her in his arms and put her in the bed dragging the duvet up her fragile cold form. He rubbed her hands against his to warm them calling her again and again but she remained in her unpleasant sleep. He really has no idea what to do.

He almost rushed to the kitchen and poured the water in the glass and ran back to the room. He sprinkled some water on her face but she didn't respond again.

"What should I do?" He mumbled and ran fingers through his long silky hair falling recklessly on his face.

"May be warm water will help a little", he talked to himself before taking long strides to the kitchen.

He filled a small pot with water and placed it on the stove. Now that royal prince of a boy had no idea how to play with that stove thing.

"Sh*t", he cursed before lightening the matchstick. He turned the knob and placed the matchstick on it, huge flames erupted from the stove. He played with the knob again until the intensity of flame suppressed. He impatiently waited for that water to get warm while darting his eyes several times to her room. Little steam grabbed his attention and he took off the pot from the stove. Mixing it with appropriate amount of cold water he made it a warm mixture and grabbed a cloth from the kitchen before barging inside her room. She was still unconscious. He warmed her forehead, hands and feet with the warm piece of fabric. Her small soft hands seemed so delicate that for once he feared he might break them. He shrugged his shoulders and kept his business continue until her body temperature was moderate enough.

He again shrugged her shoulders but she remained in state of sleep. Her low tone breaths gave evident that she was still alive. He heaved a sigh and rested his elbows on his knees sitting on the edge of her single bed. He couldn't believe he was doing all these stuffs, may be he was scared of being accused for any abuse against Laila though he didn't do anything but he had no idea only his words made her this miserable.

He glanced back at her face keeping his gaze glued to that little face of her, she looked weak and he just sighed not wanting his heart to be a little good to the girl he honestly didn't like.