And oh how she was falling. It was as though Vincent's few sentences were a full Tolkien-length book that Zafira was determined to pick apart and unravel. She wished, now, that she had forgotten about them and had moved on with her life. She wished, now, that she had stayed in beautiful obliviousness. She wished, now, that her mind had never explored the idea of falling for Noor. Because once she had considered it, she fell and she fell and she fell. Not literally, of course. Externally, everything was the same. She and Noor continued their back and forth bickering banter and she griped about Quenoor to a sympathetic Vincent. Of course, now there was no malicious intent behind her arguments with Noor and she was much kinder to Quentin.
Zafira wished they could all go back to a time when it was simpler. To a time where she and Vincent didn't commiserate together over Quenoor in Zafira's dorm for a deeper reason than hatred of their incessant PDA. To a time where Noor brought her coffee-flavored cakes instead of vanilla ones. To a time where Zafira hated Noor and Noor hated Zafira. Everything is so much more simple with hatred. There needn't be a reason for it - no justification required. Hatred is easy. Falling is hard. When you fall, you have ten million reasons always on the tip of your tongue, and you're always accumulating more. Zafira hated falling. Maybe if she hated it enough, it would go away. Or maybe, like with her hatred of Noor, it would boomerang around and smack her right in the face.
Zafira tried and failed to remind herself of why she had hated Noor so much before. Ultimately, it was because Noor had hated her first. Zafira remembered her first day at Loxton. She had been anxious and lonely, but she had put on her usual brave face and had soldiered through it. And she had done well that day, too. Loxton had been easier than she anticipated and she was excelling. Of course, that had drawn the negative attention of Noor. It wasn't long before Noor's icy glares caught Zafira in all corners of the campus - at the library, at the cafe they both visited in the morning, in the hallways. So Zafira had, naturally, reciprocated the gestures. She had glared back and scowled and frowned until the hatred was not feigned but truly mutual. And now... Well, now Zafira was Noor's friend. She was Noor's friend, but she desperately wanted to be more.
The door to Dorm 14 opened, and Zafira squinted at the faint light that pierced the darkness. Noor and Quentin stumbled in, shushing each other and giggling softly. She could see them, silhouetted in the doorframe, lips locked together. Zafira rolled over, heart squeezing. She heard the creak of the bed as Noor and Quentin plopped down onto it. By the slurring of Noor's quiet words, Zafira could tell that they were drunk. Fun. Exciting. Hopefully they weren't intoxicated enough to forget that she was there and do unspeakable things.
"Zaffy?" Noor's voice called in a whisper. "Are you awake?" Zafira didn't respond. She pressed her eyes closed when she heard the sound of Noor's footsteps on the floor. "Quen," Noor murmured. "Look at her hair. It's so shiny." She drew out the last word. Zafira held back a smile. "I want that hair." Zafira could imagine Noor pouting.
"Your hair is beautiful, darling," Quentin said. Zafira felt a spike of envy in her chest. She had forgotten, for maybe two seconds, that Quenoor existed. There had been only the sound of Noor's gentle breathing as she stood over Zafira's "sleeping" form and admired her hair. "Let's go to sleep now." Noor walked away to her bed and Zafira felt oddly hollow.
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:/
anyways how was your week?? bad rant, good rant, just rant!
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...
