Lovebirds

twenty

Confessions weren't something she was used to, so she did the only logical thing in her mind.

She ran away with a flimsy apology and a racing heart. He didn't deserve it, but she had no idea how else to reject him without breaking her own heart. Naira wasn't ready to confront her feelings, and his confession only scared her.

That was until she got a call from a bar tender that very same night about his destructive behavior. She was in a dimly lit bar, out of place with her lavender hijab and white winter coat with Rayan mumbling incoherently.

"How long has he been here like this?" she asked, half shock and half hurt. He never liked drinking before.

The bar tender shrugged as he cleaned shot glasses. "Past two hours or so. He said he wanted enough to drown his heart away," he gruffly answered.

Naira glared. "And you let him?"

"Listen, lady. This is my job. He paid and I delivered," he said, turning his back to her. "Next time blame the woman who made him like this."

She bit her lip, knowing she was the cause of Rayan's state. The bar tender was right. If she had been more sensitive to his feelings instead of running away, she could have prevented this.

Sighing, Naira glanced over Rayan again, his sluggish words and star-filled eyes. With flushed cheeks and a defeated visage, she itched to comfort him, to hold him close and tell him she was sorry.

But she couldn't.

"Rayan," she whispered lowly among the idle chatter around her. Naira felt stares, heard the hushed whispers, but her focus was trained on Rayan. "Please listen to my voice. I'm here."

"Go away," he mumbled on a groan.

She sighed, a hand on her hip. "We need to get you home."

"I don't want to go."

"Rayan, you're being childish. Why are you even drinking in the first place?" she asked as she gestured to the shot of alcohol in front of him. "You hate this stuff. Why start with it now?"

His bloodshot eyes stared at her with fury. "Shut up."

She took a step back, surprised at his clipped tone and labored breaths. How much did he drink?

Don't get angry, Naira. Part of this is your fault too.

Instead of lashing out, she took a seat beside him as a deep frown touched her lips. His heart was broken, and he chose the worst possible way to cope.

"Please, Rayan," she begged. "Let's go home."

From the soft petals of her voice, he turned away with cherry tinted cheeks. "I don't want to," he muttered, taking another gulp. "It hurts."

"I'm sorry."

He bitterly laughed. "Of course you are. Pity the popstar in love. Go on," taunted Rayan before snapping his fingers at the bartender. "You shouldn't be here, so leave."

"Don't do this," she whispered, choking on her words. "Don't hurt yourself like this."

His eyes glanced over at her broken expression, stared into her glassy eyes and she saw his shoulders slump. Exhaling a deep sigh, he chose to sit in silence staring down at the countertop instead of at her.

She could feel tension coil around her neck, the venomous bite of guilt latching at her throat as she struggled to find a way to remedy the hurt she caused. Regret stormed her, yet she had no cure for his broken heart.

She didn't even understand her own, so how could she fix his?

"Rayan?" she softly called out, quiet enough to be a whisper that caressed the pain that ripped through him.