"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 twenty eight - explanations
song of the chapter ; not about angels - birdy
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AFTER HOURS OF driving, Israfil finally found himself pulling into the driveway of his large house. He parked, pushing the handbrake down to lock the car in place. He let out a sigh, resting his head against the seat before he reached over and took the keys out of the ignition. His rings drummed against the wheel, a familiar feeling and something he did when he was anxious, then he turned his head to look at Farah, who was asleep.
He wanted to laugh slightly at how tiny she looked, practically drowning in his hoodie. The clothing reached her knees and the sleeves hung off of her arms, so she kept her hands tucked inside and drew the hood up to hide her face. Tendrils of curly hair escaped from it, successfully shielding her from the unusual cold of California this day. But instead, he contained his amusement and got out of the car, walking over to her side before opening the door. Luckily, she wasn't leaning against it, so she didn't fall out when he did so.
In one swift movement, Israfil scooped her up, nearly surprised at how light she was. He shut the door with his hip, walking up the stairs, careful not to drop her. Somehow, he managed to unlock the front door of his house and pushed it open, shutting it behind him with his foot. Without taking his shoes off, he went up the stairs, and straight to his room where he carefully placed her down on the bedsheets, watching as she curled up in them, burying herself in the cotton.
--
When Farah awoke, the sun was setting over the horizon, rays pouring into the room and onto the gray and white bedsheets that smelled heavily of familiar clean linen. She buried further into the mattress, wanting to sleep away her memories and problems. But no matter how many times she shut her eyes, she couldn't find sleep again; she was fully rested. The surroundings were tainted with glowing celestial starlight as if the bedroom itself were dipped in gold.
It was peaceful here, tranquil, even.
She looked around, eyes narrowing on the desk that certainly wasn't hers.
Her mouth dropped open.
She was in Israfil's bedroom!
Ah, shit, Farah muttered to herself.
She got up, as quickly as she could. As she scrambled to get out, her foot caught onto a blanket, resulting in her tumbling to the floor. She let out a groan of pain, a pang of tenderness shooting up her ribs. She was suddenly reminded of the softness of them, they were still healing a little bit from previous incidents. As soon as she had hit the ground, a loud thud resonated downstairs.
