Less Than Perfect

{12} Knights in Shining Armor

Tanwir Sarker

I didn't need to be a woman to understand the sense of loss that rippled off of Kanza. She sat on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, white hijab wrapped around her head even with the wrinkles on the soft fabric, the slight tear at the edge as if it was ripped off. My eyes narrowed. 

Amira was attached to her hip, worry lacing her eyes as she gently stroked her friend's arm, whispering so low that I had no idea what she was saying. 

My gaze focused on the tear on her hijab, the wrinkles, the ghostly expression written across her pale visage. Her snowy, porcelain skin was void of any color, blank, empty and she seemed more like a doll haunted by whatever took place in this room.  

My anger simmered on the surface of my skin, a blazing fuel ready to strangle that pathetic excuse for a man, to force a confession out of his lips that dripped with lies. I was beyond furious.

It didn't take a genius to know that he violated her. To what extent, I had no idea, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out. All the scenarios that wrapped around my mind like a serpent's tail, cold and slithering, were filled with a devil's grin. I could only imagine the terror that coursed through Kanza as the events of the night shook her very soul into a state of shock. 

Standing to my feet, I exhaled deeply, glancing back at her kitchen. "I'll make us a cup of tea," I said. 

Amira nodded. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I can figure it out."

Kanza's kitchen was adjacent to where her living room was, a separate connection that differed from carpeted floors and into peach-colored tiles, auburn drawers and a white, marble counter on two sides. 

Her apartment was still empty for the most part. Boxes were lined against the wall in the living room along with new camera equipment she bought for her YouTube channel.

Rummaging through her kitchen drawers and the closet, I found a box full of herbal teas and another one full of green tea.

Damn, I don't even know her favorite one.

I eyed the two boxes. There were so many options, and I had no idea how to make a terrified woman feel better. If anything, I was only brought here as the driver.

Screw it, tangerine herbal tea seems elegant enough.

"Tanwir, are you sure you don't need help?" called out Amira from the living room.

"I'm fine."

How hard can tea making really be?

* * * *

I stand corrected. After a few slips and mishaps that I somehow managed to keep under wraps from the other two ladies, I was proudly walking towards Amira and Kanza with a tray of two steaming cups of tea, the scent of tangerines drifting into the air.

As I handed them the cups, I glanced over at Kanza again. Her dark eyes were dull, a lifeless portrayal of an empty shell. Her visage grew weary as exhaustion took over her body, yet she still focused them back to reality.

"Here," I whispered, handing her a cup. Kanza's gaze snapped back to me. "Careful though. It's still really hot."

For a split second, our eyes met, and I swore some of her usual flare returned, the sparkle of hope flickered across her brown eyes until it vanished like smoke.

"Thanks," she muttered, averting her gaze once she accepted the tea. Taking  a slow sip, she settled her gaze on Amira again, a tired smile on her lips. "Who's watching your baby?" she asked, voice raspy.