"You can't love someone back to life, Israfil." She whispered. Her chest heaved with desperation, her heart throbbing against her rib cage.
He shook his head, "You can try," Israfil responded softly. "Let me love you, Farah."
-
In a society of lies...
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chapter four - malak (مَلاك)
malak (مَلاك) (noun) ; angel
song of the chapter ; consequences - camila cabello
—
FARAH'S EYES WERE wide and her mouth slightly parted in mortification. If Noah found out that she hadn't made sure her bruises were covered properly, he would beat her further for it. In a normal situation, he would just slap her if she began to get on his nerves but when he was angry, he would unleash his fury and there was not an ounce of restraint when it came to his self-control.
In fact, she had made sure she had used a full coverage foundation and had set it properly, but because she was working around piping hot water and coffee, the steam gradually wore down on her makeup, making it easy to smear.
"I bumped into a door." Farah rushed out, nearly wincing at the excuse. Israfil could tell that she was lying just by the way her eyes were set downcast as she spoke. But he decided not to press further, he didn't want to pressure her or upset her- and he knew that he certainly had no place to ask her such in her mind, because to Farah he was just an acquaintance. Nothing more, nothing less.
But that didn't mean he wouldn't find out.
And when he did, the person who hurt her would regret even being born.
—
The next few weeks, Israfil tried to visit the cafe every day. His presence seemed to be the only consistent thing in Farah's life- the only thing that she looked forward to. Every morning she would wait for the chime of the bell of the door and the familiar scent of clean linen. He made work somewhat enjoyable for her, his order always the same.
"Another black coffee?" Farah asked, her voice as sweet as it always was.
Israfil's silver eyes scanned the menu for once, instead of staring at the beautiful cashier in front of him. "Actually no. I want something new. What should I get, Farah?"
"Depends on what mood you're in." Farah smiled.
"I'm craving something sweet." His gaze burned right through her, his expression almost insinuating he meant something else. Which he was- he was craving something sweet and he most definitely did not mean coffee.
And although her flush was not visible, Farah's face felt as if it was on fire. "Maybe a caramel mocha?" She suggested, desperate to clear the tension in the air. Her fingers padded against the counter in anxiety- but this time the nerves were good. He made her nervous in a positive way, not in a dreadful or apprehensive way like Noah did.
