Darkness And Desolation

16. On Pins And Needles

"It's 8 o'clock already?" His heart deeply hoped for a no but when Zaima nodded with a sarcastic smile, his face suddenly began manifesting complain.

Why is it that I always treat the time fair but it never treats me right? My sleep!

He hadn't taken a proper sleep since almost a week, considering his endless leisure activities and secondly, Ayzel's accident. With the speed of an elephant, he slid the quilt off of him and got up under the eyes of his mother and in the next 20 seconds, he was sitting with his feet touching the floor down the bed.

"You know this is the reason why your father gets angry on your staying out with friends. It's your first day of semester and you're still in bed."

Zaima also found it the best time to fix the spoiled brat characteristic of her son. Iyaad gave her half annoyed look before rubbing his eyes in exhausted manner.

Like your husband himself starts Cuck-oro-ckoo in the morning.
He internally hissed, unable to voice it out.

"So what? I have my first class from nine thirty that's why I was sleeping." He presented a brief excuse, unwanting to engage in a long conversation.

Zaima examined his tired self for a while before extending the glass to him. Though it was usual for Iyaad to take a prolonged sleep once every week, yet there was something on his visage that hinted Zaima he was extra sleepy today.

"Catch some sleep if you're tired. You can get your notes from Hariz." She suggested rather politely but he shook his head in denial.

"Yeah, no need. I'm all set now—"

As soon as his eyes captured his favorite shake infront of them, the remants of slumber also escaped, replacing them with a glimmering look. Without any resistance, his hand welcomed the glass in its captivity before he started gulping the shake down his throat and showing her an honest thumbs up.

"Hurry up. Get ready and come downstairs. Your breakfast is ready." Zaima instructed as she ruffled his undone hair affectionately with her fingers and just as her figure whirled around to exit the room, a bulb lit up out of the blue in his head.

"Mummy?" The emergency in his voice halted Zaima in her steps by the door and forced her to twirl back towards him.

"Hmm, Speak."

"I was thinking..." Iyaad's hand travelled to his hair and he itched his head; accumulating the words inside it.

"Can I just have some food to take to university today?"

His tone sounded like a request, the one request he would make so rarely but always valued by his mother. Zaima felt suspicious.

"Means you want homemade lunch today?" She acquired confirmation by emphasizing on 'Homemade' whilst folding her arms again. Iyaad smiled but shook his head.

"Not homemade, momi-made. I've actually heard that 'Lunch from one's mother works better on the first day of a new semester' so... just thought to try it up." He presented a tiny philisophy to shadow the actual reason, watching Zaima's eyebrows raising in appraisal.

"Wow, kudos to that philosopher who finally knocked your empty head... Anyways, I'll check what's in the freezer so I can prepare for you." With the last motherly smile, she exited the room in the same graceful aura she entered with.