His silence is his Pride (ON HOLD)

Chapter Twenty Six ♥ "A Dead Man's Wish"

     

                                    Chapter Twenty Six

                                   “A Dead Man’s Wish”

                                   "ليسَ من حق أحدٍ أن يكسرَ باب صمتي ..

                                          الا انتِ ، الا انتِ ، الا انتِ.."

Mahra

Monday- 11:15 AM

 

A chilly wind blew and I huddled in my sweater, tightening my grip on my coffee cup, feeling its warmth. I stood under the clear sky, in the balcony, listening to the birds singing as the bright sunlight teased my eyes and the cold breeze played with my hair. Standing hundreds of feet above the ground, I felt as if I was as free as a bird.

“You’ll catch a cold.” said a voice that yanked me from my freedom and pushed me into the prison, I so wanted to flee from. I turned sideways, and saw him standing behind me, leaning on the balcony door, his hands folded across his chest. “It’s cold out here and you’re already too weak.” Zayed finished, now looking at me.

I wasn’t too surprised seeing him being nice now. Ever since our argument yesterday, he’s been trying to be polite, by accompanying me at dinner time and helping me with my bandage this morning.

If not answers, he planned to shut me up with his politeness and lucky for him, it was working. Not because his kindness affected me, but because I was sick and tired of crying and yelling and asking questions. I was simply exhausted.

“I am fine.” I muttered and turned back to support my coffee cup on the balcony railing. My hands weren’t strong enough to hold it.

“How’s your hand?” I heard him move, and he came to stand beside me.

“It’s fine.” I answered, without looking at him. Unlike past times, his presence now displeased me more than ever and to show him that, I heaved a sigh of fatigue. The negative energy that radiated from every fiber in my being, definitely reached him, and created a cloud of awkwardness around us. Not that I cared but it seemed to bother him.

I heard him clear his throat and then a while later he turned to leave but before doing so; “You better get inside.” He suggested, pointing to the door.

I could feel his eyes on me, so I lifted my head up to take a brief glance at him. “No, those walls suffocate me.” I denied, turning to gaze remotely at the view from here. This time he didn’t press much and went inside, quietly.

A brief while later; I heard some movement in the dining room, the sliding of the drawers and closing of cupboards, after which a man’s voice – with an Australian accent –rang in the suite. He’d turned on the TV.

How could he think of watching TV when we were in such a sensitive condition!? I exhaled, sharply and shook my head. Men really are incomprehensible.

 

I finished my coffee and went back inside to place the empty cup in the kitchen which had an open access to the dining room. Unlike my normal self, I washed my mug, and looked at him with the corner of my eyes, sitting cross-legged on the sofa opposite to the TV, completely engrossed with what he was watching.