Koh-e-Noor

//• d o •//

I don't have to make much effort into not cringing at how nasty that is since, before my eyes can even narrow to start cringing, they spot her forearm.

I notice the blanket in my hand that I subconsciously lifted from the floor and am now putting over her.

I sigh before grabbing her desk chair and pulling it to her. I inhale a sharp breath as I run my rough hands over my face to calm down.

I look down at her sleeping figure. I take her beautiful free hand in mine and push her sleeves up.

Tons of small cuts on her upper forearm.

They are so many that I can't even count them.

I slowly put a hand on her soft cheeks and lift her face, trying not to touch the poodle of drool on the pillow. I pull her other hand from below her cheek and the forearm had more or less the same visible amount of cuts.

I look at her, unable to understand what this is, just hoping I was never the reason behind it. I pray our small quarrels on WhatsApp never pressed her pain more.

She licks her lips before moaning and turning round, pulling on my hand and out of it.

The smile and playfulness I saw yesterday on her face would never have me ever imagine this.

I sigh, closing my eyes and sending a prayer up in the sky.

I might not be friends with her anymore but being human, I feel horribly bad.

No one deserves this and she's a sensitive but pretty soul.

The upset and low mood only lasts until Victor calls and asks how his lovely Pakistan is. He hasn't visited this country even once, but his hijabi crush -aka love, but she denied his proposal- is half Pakistani and he can't help but fall in love with anything related to her.

We have a small fight that ends in me giving up with, "yea, okay, take care of the house, housemate," and cutting the call.

Having long-forgotten all my problems, I change, switch on the TV and watch Netflix as I drift off.

- Z A I R A -

I opened my eyes and jumped up on the bed to look at the clock. 7:30h.

Woah, not bad Zaira. You woke up on the perfect time. I rushed to my suitcase and took out the first piece of clothing I found.

I took a shower, damped my hair, put on some lotion after drying myself and swirled into a denim jumpsuit.

I watched the time on the wall clock as I wore my lenses. I struggled a bit, but smiled, sent myself a flying kiss and flew down the stairs singing Dhoondo Gay's chorus that halted right after I caught taaya abbu glaring at me.

I silently swiped my body to the dining table, which was already full and I had no other seat to sit on except the nearest to taaya abbu and right in front of the man I hate the most.

I rolled my eyes as he pushed his eyeballs to the bottom corner -checking my outfit... or appreciating my singing?- and gifted me an impressed frown. I grimaced, narrowing my eyes and scrunching my nose with a fake smile.