Quentin and Noor went on some sort of date nearly every day. Granted most of these "dates" were really just watching Netflix in Quentin and Vincent's dorm room, as Noor had soon realized that Quentin had been serious when he had claimed to be antisocial. Noor adored him. Their love at first sight romance had blossomed into something more real, solid, and - dare she say it - serious. Zafira, for her part, was being awfully annoying about the whole affair. She was always grumbling about Quentin's presence in their room or muttering under her breath about how much she loathed Quenoor. Noor didn't mind very much.
During the past week, Noor's dates with Quentin had gotten progressively shorter by no fault of their own. The play was coming up, and Noor had the lead role. It was a classic knight-and-princess story, and Noor was, for the most part, trapped in a tower crying for a brave prince to come save her. Noor, being the feminist that she was, didn't quite appreciate the lack of dimension to the weeping princess, but her excitement to be cast as a lead overshadowed her disappointment and she let it slide.
As the days sped on, Noor felt her apprehension grow. She had invited a number of people to attend her play - Quentin, Zafira, and Vincent among them - and she had to put on her best performance. She practiced tirelessly, even making Quentin drive her out of the city on a Tuesday night in order to skip her study session with Zafira so she could go over her lines again. Quentin was very supportive of her hobby. He quizzed her and helped her with memorization tactics. Noor was incredibly grateful.
She was sitting in the cafe, going over the script one last time, when Vincent swept in. He was soggy from the rain and his expression was one of perpetual sorrow. He had been down in the dumps for some time now, Noor had noticed. She waved him over to her table and he sat.
"What's got you in such a state?" Noor asked.
Vincent shrugged listlessly, gaze swinging around the small cafe. "It's unimportant. Doesn't affect you."
"Hardly," Noor scoffed. "I think your bad mood is rubbing off on Zafira - she's been especially evil as of late. She's my roommate. That makes your problem my problem."
Vincent snorted. "Zafira is always evil in your eyes."
"Not true," Noor protested.
"She could do everything perfect and you'd still hate her," Vincent replied. "It's no wonder she doesn't even try with you." With that, he stood abruptly and walked through the door, leaving Noor to ponder his words in his wake.
That night, Noor stood, in costume, behind the curtain of the set. Her face had been painted with clown-like blush for dramatic effect, and the long, pale purple dress she was wearing contrasted rather hideously with her brown skin. If only they had chosen red or blue or a vibrant color. But no, it had to be lavender. As Noor ascended the steps behind the set of her tower, her eyes searched the crowd. She caught sight of Quentin, in the front row. He was smiling widely. Noor's gaze found her friends, huddled together in the middle of the audience, whispering into each other's ears. Then she saw Vincent, leaning against the back wall, looking morose as ever as he stared off into the distance. But no Zafira. Noor hadn't expected to be this disappointed. As the play started, she realized that she was also very angry.
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no but i really had a dream two nights ago that i had a brown girl sparring partner and it was all very homoerotic
um.
ANYWAYS-
you should definitely check out my retelling of scheherazade :D
YOU ARE READING
Noor & Zafira
Romance[gxg] Noor hates Zafira, and Zafira hates Noor; They're content to keep it that way. But there's a fine line between hate and love, and when a speech-and-debate competition thrusts them into a world of late-night donut runs and studying to Noor's ba...
