"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 thirteen - the hunter becomes the hunted
song of the chapter ; redemption - drake
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NOT ANOTHER WORD of truth could be squeezed out of Farah, no matter how hard Israfil tried. He didn't want to be pushy or pressing in any way, but he had to know. He had to know so he could fix the problem. But her lips were pressed together with unspoken secrets that she forbade anyone from hearing. Those were hers to keep. Her nightmares were too grim to be whispered to another.
Nonetheless, Israfil was a blizzard of emotion. A mix of absolute wrath, and grief. He also felt something along the lines of misplaced guilt. For he couldn't have stopped it all from happening nor could he chase away the shadows that appeared when he turned his back. Israfil as if it were all his fault, that he could have done something to prevent everything.
And so the car ride from the pack medic was a silent one.
Not a thing was spoken between the two.
On occasion, Israfil's eyes would drift from the road to Farah who was pressed up against the door feeling dispirited with her cheek compressed against the cold of the vehicle's window. Unlike the last time they were sat in the car, the room of Israfil's convertible was pulled down, shielding them from the rain that matched the mood of the two of them. Farah watched as the light rain ran down the glass, small clear droplets matching the ones running down her cheeks.
Farah was never fond of crying.
But it seemed she did that a lot these days.
There were moments of brief happiness, but those were soiled by following bad events that made her feel like, perhaps, the happiness never existed in the first place. Maybe it was just a moment where she felt okay for once. Maybe it wasn't gaiety, maybe it was a just temporary relief. She didn't want to seem so ungrateful, she was certainly gracious and thankful for the positive things she was blessed with, even if they were minimal.
But still, she felt as if a heavy gray cloud of melancholy and sadness loomed over her head wherever she walked. And sometimes, it would become lighter when she felt Israfil's rays of sunshine, the embodiment of the color gold. And the darkness quivered for a moment, pretending as if it dissipated only to return when the sun didn't shine and the moon came out.
Israfil's presence was reassuring to her, and she hated herself for it.
