Before Our Dawn| ongoing

six

chapitre six
━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Isra clutched the money Etienne had given her to her chest as she stood out on the street, the Moulin Rouge and its bright lights flashing behind her while she waited for a taxi to drive by.

She wasn't sure of the time, but she suspected that at least an hour must have gone by since Aisha left with her lover, leaving her stranded in the city, on a street she didn't know, surrounded by men and women who seemed to leer and jeer, their eyes following her every movement, making her feel as though she were being watched by a pack of hungry wolves.

As Isra stood alone in the dimly lit street, she couldn't fathom how Aisha could so easily believe Etienne's words over hers. After all, wasn't it crystal clear that the man was nothing but a charmer, with a history of playing with women's hearts? Yet, despite all of this, Aisha had chosen to believe in the deceptive facade that Etienne had put on. Isra knew deep down that the bond she had forged with Aisha over the recent months was worth far more than the transitory attentions of a man like Etienne. She refused to let him destroy their friendship and hoped that Aisha would eventually come to see through the veil of lies that he had woven around them.

Desperately, she searched for any sign of a taxi, but none seemed to be in sight. Her eyes darted around, taking in the strange faces and unfamiliar surroundings. The Moulin Rouge with its bright lights and seductive music felt like a distant memory. Only hours ago, she was laughing and dancing with Aisha, enjoying the vibrant energy of the city. Now, she was abandoned, forgotten.

Lost in the labyrinth of her melancholic thoughts, she failed to detect the approaching figure that raced toward her. It wasn't until a voice called out her name that she raised her head and looked around, scanning the unfamiliar faces in search of the source of the sound.

"Isra!"

She recognized the tall silhouette, albeit vaguely, clad in a simple soft collared shirt and black trousers, making its way toward her. The moonlight highlighted his blonde locks, and his piercing blue eyes gleamed with a hint of shock and disbelief. It wasn't until he called her name that she finally lifted her gaze and locked her eyes with Marcel.

She was taken aback, as she had not expected to see him again, let alone in this unexpected situation.

For a moment, the two of them just stood there, staring at each other, until Marcel finally broke the silence. "What are you doing here, Isra? I was just taking a walk and then I saw you..."

To her, he was still just a stranger, but seeing somebody she knew brought her so much relief that tears accumulated in her eyes, and she cried.

She was overwhelmed with emotion, so much so that her voice caught in her throat, and she could not speak. Marcel noticed her tears and reached out to her with a hand outstretched in concern. "Isra, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

She sniffled and wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. "I've been stranded here for so long, and I was so scared."

"Stranded? What do you mean?"

Isra explained the situation to him, telling him about how Aisha had left with Etienne and how she had been waiting for a taxi for what felt like hours. "Well, I'm here now. I'll get you home, alright? You don't need to worry."

Isra sensed the gentle touch of his hand on her arm, and she threw herself into his arms, burying her face into the soft fabric of his shirt.

At first, Marcel stood frozen, staring down at the top of her head, unsure of how to proceed. But as her sobs grew louder, his muscles softened, and he pulled her closer, enveloping her in a tight embrace. He felt her tremble against his chest, and he whispered words of comfort into her ear, hoping to offer her some solace.