"You can't love someone back to life, Israfil." She whispered. Her chest heaved with desperation, her heart throbbing against her rib cage.
He shook his head, "You can try," Israfil responded softly. "Let me love you, Farah."
-
In a society of lies...
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chapter three - qahua
[(قهوة) meaning coffee]
song of the chapter ; lyin king - jhené aiko
--
FARAH STARED AT the pouring rain with irritation. She never enjoyed such weather, that was one of the reasons that she moved from Seattle to Los Angeles. Through the glass of the window of the coffee shop, she could see the puddles gathering in the holes of the pavement, the water reflecting the pink of the sky.
"Stop daydreaming, Farah." Maggie snapped, her eyes glaring at the short girl in front of her who always seemed to be in a daze. Maggie's wrinkled lips that had been painted an obnoxious shade of ruby red were pressed into a thin line, a clear look of aggravation on her face. "Table five needs a new coffee," And with that, she turned on her heel with her hooked nose pointed high in the air while she strutted away.
"Lord," Farah mumbled under her breath, taking Maggie's orders and quickly whipping up a new caramel macchiato and heading towards table five, trying hard not to trip in the stupid heels that were part of the uniform. But instead of rolling her eyes in annoyance she simply plastered on a smile and balanced the drink on the tray.
The men at table five were loud and sleazy and clearly had no clue what an 'inside voice' meant. This cafe was a quiet establishment that she often enjoyed, relishing in the silence that the bookworms that came here provided. When she cleared her throat in impatience, the men looked up in surprise.
They hadn't seen a woman so attractive, but their stares were more disrespectful than flattering. Her figure was seen clearly under the ridiculous dress that Maggie had insisted that she would wear. She placed the coffee down on the table, taking the old mug that had caused the complaint away.
"What's your name, pretty girl?" One of the men asked, his age was quite visibly way over her's and it was creepy to have someone at least ten years older than her be so open to flirt.
"Amelia," She lied, beginning to get more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. Farah carefully placed the macchiato down on the table and was turning around when she felt a hand.
On her ass.
"Why don't you give me your number, Cocoa?" Farah cringed at the nickname that was so obviously derived from her deep skin tone. She slapped his hand away sharply and gave him a menacing glare.
"No thank you and keep your hands to yourself, sir. Enjoy your coffee." As she strode away she heard him mumble a derogatory term under his breath but she chose to ignore it. As she returned to her spot behind the bar, Maggie frowned at her shaken appearance.
