Wanted to be loved (Islamic Story)

30: Death

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Rustle of metal against the stone of footpath seeked the boy's attention, he craned his neck, only to find an empty steel can trolling by the brutal froce of wind, he huffed a volume of warm air, cloud of mist forming in icy cold atmosphere near his mouth, his fingers in his pocket twitched, curling into balls.

She is bound to be late.

He thought, a snarl pushed on his lips, leaf green eyes set hard as marble. Stars glistening with stolen shin in the dark sky as glitters twinkling in a black canvas. The night quiet as a snake on a hunt, waiting for it's prey to make a move, longing to spread it's charcoal wings and engulf all lights.

The boy hated every event ever cascaded on his life, so does he hated every person ever stumbled on his path to the end, but right now standing tall against the wall, outside of his boss's company, he hated Blue and waiting for her above everything.

His fingertips brushed with cold glass bottle in his pocket, he pulled out the bottle of vodka (alcohol), taking a large gulp, he kept the liquid whirling around his tongue, letting every taste bud burn with the roughness, till the strong liquid awakened the back of his throat.

He know, he must be more sober than drunk but, the darkness of overcasted night and screams of the wind as it passes the tales of man, highlights his senses, and only needs a little dizziness, till his buried memories came back to live.

Finding the way to Mavi's new cell, was not hard for the young boy, as the trail of blood follow Mavi like her shadow, she once again tried to run away, this time the whips landed on her bare foot, instead of her back, striping her skin, painting red on floor with every footstep she makes.

The boy to young for the lethal love which bow it's seed in his heart, let the roots clinch his soul, yet no fruit to flourish, walk to the girl, of his life, he wanted to say three words coated of sugars, dripping  with sweat caramel.

He had practiced them many times in front of a long mirror, in so many abstract ways, but his training of preparing his heart for altar, seeped away when he opened the door.

Feathers of bird tickled his heart, an unwanted tremble ranked his body, waving goosebumps on it's way, he hold on his breath, cherishing the same air in which she have breathe.

The moment her skyblue eyes collided with his leaf green ones, his small smile wavered all his uneasiness, he was afraid of her reaction. Like he have seen in movies, he didn't had flowers, but a small bar chocolate was hidden in his jean pocket.

"Zia," she breathed out, maybe he was too stuck in his new found love that he didn't notice the turmoil going under the horizon of blue ocean in her eyes.

"Mavi, I heard --" he began to ask about her injuries but she cut him short.

"That's not important, I have something to show you" she stood up, from the coner where she sat. She looked beautiful under the scattered pieces of orange light of overhung blub.

"What do you mean."  He hurriedly earsed the distance between them, he read the delight in her features, her sorrow smile were touching the glow of her eyes and Zia wouldn't stop the twitch in his stomach.

"I want to tell you something."  She bend down and brought up a pair of shoes in her hands.

"What are th -- where did you get them." The size were large for her feet.

"I stole them, Zia," she looked directly into his eyes, pricing his soul, "I am leaving tonight, and this
time there will be no return."