Reviving Her

Chapter 15 : Burnt

      She threw herself at heartbreak,
Like a moth drawn to a flame.
Patching up her broken wings,
Just to try it once again
And the world all thought her foolish,
For she never seemed to learn,
But how do you save somebody,
Who's convinced that they should burn?
                                                                                                  - e.h
            _____________________________________________________

Maaz;

My alarm blares again, as my hand is about to snooze it once more, I notice the time. It's half past seven already. Thirty minutes past my usual time. I hurriedly roll out of bed. I peek in Dad's room, his sheets are bare, neatly tucked in.

A quick shower and I rush downstairs. I don't find dad in the living room either. He must have left with Ziyan. The house is quiet except for a little noise from the kitchen. I hope it isn't Zara. Last night I have no idea what had come over me that I sat down and talked nonsense for hours and hours until the wee of dawn. I'm not sure how she would perceive that as. Being the sweet person she is, she may have listened to me only to appease me, all the while wanting to run back to bed.

Yet a smile spreads across my face and my heart skips a beat as I recall how she had sat beside me, not quite touching and listened to me talk. I was hoping the night wouldn't end.

In need of coffee I make my way to the kitchen. Inside I see braided, jet black hair who can only belong to one person. Too busy studying her profile I fail to notice the chair in front of me.

Thud.

She turns around, startled, dropping the mug she was stirring. So much for good impressions!
The mug shatters on the floor, coffee spilling on her hand to the floor.

'I'm sorry, I was..' She begins.

'I am so sorry.' I say at the same time.

'I wasn't paying attention.' She adds sheepishly.

Her left hand now has a red splotch on the back of her hand.

'Your hand.' I maneuver my way through the pieces on the floor. I take her hand, she pulls it away.

'It's nothing. It will be fine.'

'You have burnt your hand. Let me.' I open the faucet and place her hand under the gushing flow.

She winces. 'I am really sorry.' I apologize again.

'Does it hurt a lot ?' I ask. Of course it does, her hand is all red now.

'Not so much that I can't handle.' She replies.

'I'll be right back.' I say, I go out and from the bathroom I grab a tube of toothpaste and rush back to her.

She rolls her eyes at me when she sees me unscrewing the toothpaste cap.

'I'm fine, I said.' She says. She sits down on the chair and wipes her hand on a towel. I kneel down in front of her.

'You don't have to.' She remains her stubborn self, keeping her hands in her lap.