The Iron Man [Serial]

By KaranSeraph

8.6K 810 492

Alternate History Steampunk Fashion Dystopia Science Romance --- Julien is a regulation-compliant young... More

Disclaimer
The Dhobitorium
The Kapareghora
On the Lammastide
The Lavender Room
Rebel Heart
The Molly House
The Sitar Player
The Fashion Police
The Alpha
The Bridge
Ship Mates
All at Sea
The Interview
Language Lessons
Ray of Light
Neptune Rex
Rest
Need to Know
La Isla Bonita
Like a Prayer
Coffee
The Old Town
The Bespoke Tailor
Treading Water
Deeper Into The Drink
In the Night
Parting Ways
Mission Briefs
Departures
Arrivals
Valentine
At the Cabaret
Ruins
House of Wolves
The Torpedo
Dream of Venice
Voyeurs
By the Altitude of a Chopine
The Velvet Weavers
The Velvet Mafia
The Rap Battle
Fall
Breathe
Survive
Confidence
Commotions
Pull Through
The Sky Captain
The Barque
Alexandria
The Prince of Egypt
The Scipio
Some Days a Prince
Libraries
Breaking Ground
To The Victorious
Mother of the World
The Prayers
Mise en Abyme
Not Alone
Saif
City of the Dead
The Malik
Stars
Feast of Horns
The Magician
Americans
The Climb
The Notch
Reunite
Sound and Light
Mending
Into the Pyramid
The Descent
The Abyss
The Heart of the Pyramid
The Dance Number
Resonance
Kyrie
Crossed Destinies
The Call
Tailors
Booksellers
Real Person Slash
Night Visit
Locomotion
Mr. Charmchi Changes Trains
Water Crossing
Of the Plain
All Tea No Shade
Wadi
The Bachelor House
Are Fezzes Cool?
Boy's Night
Venus in Jodhpurs
Acceptance
St. Katerine
Atonement
Extra: Glossary
Extra: Dramatis Personae
Extra: Table of Nations
Extra: Feasts of Fashion
Extra: Lego Minifigures
Extra: Alternate Blurbs & Summaries

Mr. Darzi

63 2 5
By KaranSeraph

It was a short walk through the Valley of Inscriptions to the patch of highground, not from from the parked Hispano, where Samir and Me'rah had pitched their tent.

Honestly, I was not looking forward to Me'rah awkwardly going through the motions of approving the friend her son brought home as a suitable match when there was no path to anything like marriage. I held no animosity for Murphy's mother, but neither was to know that I'd already discussed the subject with Alpha and Hedone. The topic made me uncomfortable. It just did.

Now, I hadn't had a sister of my own in years. I had missed every opportunity to tease or make fun of Blade's suitors. Maya was right there. She'd even brought up her reasons for not bothering to be veiled.

I'd rather the focus was on her than me.

So, I said, "That fellow with the glasses seemed handsome."

Murphy appeared to trip on a rock. He quickly righted himself and made a show of dusting off his jacket. "Not one of your fellows," he said quietly.

"No," I said, "His eyes passed right over me, but I think someone turned his head."

Murphy glanced over his shoulder.

"No!" Maya said, "He didn't even look at me."

"Oh, he intentionally averted his eyes from your face," Murphy told her, "but when you walked away, he looked."

"I do not believe you," Maya said.

"He did," I agreed, "and he understood your pun. He answered back in English, 'I would'."

"He meant the date!"

"When you were not looking, he smiled and put the date in his pocket as a keepsake," Murphy said.

By the time we reached their campsite, Maya was covering her face with her sleeves. Her parents were gathered near the front end of the Hispano, where part of the bonnet was removed. Me'rah looked to be baking bread through some combination of reflected sunlight and remnant engine heat.

"What is this?" Samir asked, watching our approach over a small metal drinking cup.

"Tyron says one of the students has noticed me."

"The Lord provides," Me'rah said softly.

Samir seemed to ignore this and tipped his head to give Murphy an expectant look.

"There was a certain turn of the head," Murphy said.

Samir's brows rose further.

"But he was respectful enough when Maya was near."

Samir lowered his cup and nodded. "Tyron, why don't you and Julien get out of the sun."

I understood we were being dismissed so that Samir and Me'rah could speak to Maya in privacy. I excused myself to retrieve something from the steam-cab. I then walked the short distance to the tent, carrying Murphy's sitar in its valise as well as my sewing kit.

The tent itself was made of fabric in such a uniform weave that I knew it must be from an industrial loom and military issue, though I couldn't have said what nation's. There was a cloth and cushions inside, all of them even more compact than the camp furniture we'd used in Eivissa.

"You have gotten a little more color today," Murphy said.

I put my things down, then sat beside Murphy with my hand to my cheek.

Murphy picked at a twisted section of his keffiyah and unwound it from his hair. "Sit here. I'll put it on you."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for me to learn by watching?"

"You can watch me any time, but then I would be without a perfectly innocent excuse to touch you."

I took a long look at Murphy right then. He could be rakish and flirty, but I was a bit beyond rebuffing him for sake of propriety. I liked him much too much to reject any excuse for chaste contact. "I'll let you show me the ropes, if you promise to play your sitar afterward."

Murphy laughed, because he understood this coy negotiation for the pretense it mainly was. It was also true my bringing the instrument from the cab meant I would have insisted he play regardless. That was our original agreement with each other: my being quite firm with him so long as I was able to see him live the dream I wished to protect.

"It has been a while," he said.

Since before the coma.

"You need to," I said. I then scooted close and sat with my back to Murphy.

He brought his hands forward, over my shoulders, with the cloth folded in a triangle.

"I didn't speak any intentions to my parents," Murphy whispered. "But, I did say things to Sina in confidence, and considering my state in the hospital, she may have believed it necessary to share some things with my mother."

The admission that Murphy had confessed feelings for me wasn't as surprising as I might otherwise have thought. He'd shown his interest from the start and his particular relationship with his cousin was still not one I fully understood. 

"I'm not upset with you. Any of you." I did appreciate that Murphy had noticed my discomfort, even if it was also embarrassing. I watched that the others were not in earshot, but they were still engaged in their own conversation. "Me'rah was in the hospital when I visited, you know. I might have been too obvious myself."

"Start with the edge near your brows," Murphy said a little more loudly, "Whether you center or not determines how much fabric is left to drape or to cover your face or neck."

I sat still, allowing Murphy to move the keffiyah.

"I wouldn't mind if they approved," Murphy said.

"We don't need to talk about it. I'm here. I'm not going."

"All right." I felt the pressure of his fingers against my head. Murphy went back to giving instructions, "Hold this first end in place until you fold the second side over it."

Samir stooped to enter the tent and sat down. "Had either of you caught the name of this boy with glasses?"

"The professor called him Darzi," I said.

-----

Chapter 91!  Friday Update.

The media is the video for "iT's YoU" by Zayn. Because...well, this and the previous chapter were very, let's say, inspired by Wattpad. :) But seriously, it is a beautiful song. (Also, check the cast.)

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