"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 forty - late nights
song of the chapter ; my song - H.E.R.
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"HEY, HEY, HEY. Slow down," Israfilhad grabbed Farah from the shoulders as she began to speed walk out of the therapy room, about to leave it all behind for a breath of fresh air. Something happened, something she had confessed in therapy today had caused a breakdown, hence the outward position of his arms as he held them out to welcome her into a warm embrace. She moved forward, tucking her face into his hoodie-clad chest, inhaling the smell of his cologne as she cried. Her therapist, Dr. Lorenzo, stood by the door with a sympathetic expression on his face as he looked at the young woman.
"You done for today, you wanna go home?" Israfil asked, his voice soft and tender.
She nodded once.
"Alright," He said, rubbing her back. "Thanks, Dr. Lorenzo. See you next Friday."
The therapist nodded once, offering Farah a weak smile. "You take care of yourself, alright, dear? Make sure you're writing in your book."
"Come on," Israfil whispered, grabbing her hand. He hadn't had a clue what she talked about today, all he knew was that he had been waiting for her outside, allowing her to have her own privacy when she suddenly pulled the door open and walked out crying. He wanted to be aware of the problem, maybe so he could fix it, but pushing was the last thing he wanted to do. It was obvious to him that she was done talking about it for now, and she wanted to escape her own head. "Where do you wanna go?"
Farah's stare lifted from the floor as they walked and flittered to him, black eyes glassy and doll-like. "I don't know," She whispered.
"Okay," He answered, tightening his hand around her own. "That's okay, we'll come up with something."
Farah stared at his hand instead of his face. Dense, dark hair peppered his arm and grew sparser as it reached the back of his hand and the small, crimson coloured cuts in his hand from physical work. Veins protruded from his golden skin, and thick platinum rings sat on his fingers.
She bit her cheek hard and swallowed even harder. Her mind was overloading, and it was about to overheat and shut down completely.
She still couldn't... comprehend all of this yet. All of him, in his entirety. Today was nightmarish, and the clouds that welcomed the sky and covered the Californian sunlight brought terrible memories with them. Today was the day she had confessed about the marks on her hips, the ones Noah had ingrained in her flesh with his switchblade. She felt... what was it? Disappointed? She knew that Israfil had feelings for her, but what would he think if he saw her undressed, and saw the scars?
