A Court's Maim

آپ | You

Chapter 29.

Blinded by the sudden light from the lamp he winced. His muscles fished themselves into a contour, wrapping around the sensitive orbs. With a vision left bleared, his hands mustered the sheets loosely, gripping the glasses between his hands. Sliding them on to his tall nose, scrunching his upper lips, Aliyaar frowned at the deliberate intentions of annoying him. Grasping her strands that were laced with a caramel shade, blended with the deep shades of her natural roots, he pushed it behind her ear. His fingers — pinched the apex of her cheeks. They had rounded over these past few weeks, dwelling into her early days of the second trimester, she was weaning the signs of pregnancy. Wearing them with pride.

"I've got a meeting tomorrow Barekhna." He groaned

"I can not sleep!" She groaned in reply, punching his chest.

Her fingers rubbed over her eyes, running through the stringent strings of sleep that kept her achingly awake. She yawned into the air, nuzzling deeper into his side, the comfortable warmth from his body eased out the chill of the world outside. Too hot then — Barekhna brushed her hand over her forehead, tutting under her breath. With the edges of her nails she scratched his scruffy beard, laughing to herself underneath her breath as he shifted in annoyance. Though still no word of reprimanding fell from his mouth. Tipping her head over his chest, Barekhna pressed her cracked lips over his throat. Licking the strip of skin, her hands pinching his earlobe.

"Please let me sleep Barekhna."

Leave the poor man alone — the soprano voice of her inner thoughts pinched the sides of her head. It rung through the silence that like an enigma crept over her shoulder. Dragging down her bare arms gently with time. The ticking clock in the shadows was hidden from sight, even as her sparkling gaze searched for the sight of it. Squinting her gaze to make out the arms of the clock. Four am — on the dot. She should let him sleep, but the rumbling waves of hunger in her abdomen and the ache that traced down her legs decided against it. Muffling her annoyance, she shifted from under his heavy arm, kissing the back of his palms. With her back pressed to the headboard, her fingers pinched his biceps. If she suffered then it was only right that he did too. It was their child. Equality had to be ensured.

"I'm starved." She hissed, wiping the sudden tears that erupted like molten lava from her eyes, "and I'm aching all over. You don't care though now do you?"

Barekhna's voice tore off at the ends as she hunched. Pushing her delicate knees to her heaving chest, she dug her fingers into the warm flesh of her thighs. Stabbing them with her nails, running in soft circles to alleviate herself from the ache. Her feet — swollen rubbed her the wrong way as she immediately pushed them underneath the duvet. With her cheek placed over the top of her knees, she made stared at Aliyaar. His eyes — half shut, covered with the prescription glasses that rested crookedly against his nose. He painted the image of misery. Deep eye bags weighed down on to his pale cheeks, his fingers holding on to the edge of her shift.

"Let go of me. I'll go find something to feed myself." She grumbled, at the end of her wit somehow.

"Ruko I'm up!" His voice busting with sleep, and mixed with the huskiness of his gentle aura, whisper yelled.
[Wait.]

Yelling into the abyss of the room with his eyes still shut, Aliyaar pulled away from his pillow. A careless yawn seized his mouth, pushing open the buccal cavity, his tongue running against the side of his mouth. With the width of his palm, the callousness of them a chilly contrast against the warmth smothering texture of his lips, he wiped at the water she had dropped on to him. Fixing his glasses in place with the tip of his index finger. Lazily, his hands dwelled over the woollen sweat shirt, it's pale beige matching the tone of his chest exactly. Murmuring reprimands and feeling his heart snap into two as he walked into the arms of the merciless cold, he walked over to her. Wrapping an arm around her stiff shoulders. Leading sleepily their figures to the kitchen.