The Price ࿊f Peace

☮️:048

Somewhere in Oakland ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ serious content ahead. Please be warned.

"Syara," Elijah called for the fourth time in the past two minutes. "Please, you working yourself up over nothing."

"It's not that that bad." Elijah tried to convince her from his spot on the couch where he had yet to move from, seeing as his head was still swimming, and his balance hadn't returned. "It could've been worse."

Syara stopped cold in her tracks—mid-pace—, turning on her heel to squint in Elijah's direction. So... maybe that wasn't the best thing to say at the moment. "So, you're saying she's done worse?"

That caught Camarro's attention from where he was standing guard by the doorway to make sure she didn't run for it again.

"I mean, yeah." Elijah shrugged. He thought this was common knowledge. This was like everyday for him from even before Camarro got put out.

"She used to do this shit everyday." He stated, clearly unfazed. "It happens."

Syara opened her mouth to speak before stopping herself. She didn't even let the words come out, instead turning away from Elijah to face a wall so that she could calm herself down to comfort him. She decided it wasn't fair that she be erratic and he calm in his own situation.

Elijah slowly turned his head to look in her direction where she stood, very obviously taking the time to calm herself down. He sighed, sinking into the couch to rest his eyes for a moment. He was tired.

He felt a gentle touch on his face, warm hands cupping his chin, and the couch sinking beside him. Syara maneuvered her body to sit in the wedge between the armrest and the backboard of the couch before she pulled his head to rest on her chest, so she could rub his ear.

She knew he always fell asleep faster when she did. She just wanted him to feel...safe, like he made her feel. But, she also wanted to hurt someone. Really bad.

Syara needed someone to pay for each stitch on his handsome face.

She ran her thumb, gently over the raised skin surrounding his stitches, dropping gentle pecks on the area as she held under his chin.

She held him even tighter to her. "You didn't deserve that."

"Hm?" Elijah cracked an eye before immediately squinting his eye at the bright light of the living room. His head was pounding.

Syara continued rubbing the shell of his ear as he shielded his face in her chest to block the light from his sensitive pupils. "I said, 'you didn't deserve that,' Elijah."

Elijah didn't respond, breathing through his nose to focus on that rather than the pain he was experiencing in his head.

Syara waited a moment before continuing, "you know that, right?"

She got no response, again. She sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I love you." She whispered.

Elijah tensed, forcing his eye open in the light room to look up at her fearful expression. He was quiet for a moment, just looking into her eyes.

"I love you, mama." It was quiet, and it was sure.

He gently laid his head back onto her chest, and fell asleep after a while of her rubbing his ear.

__________________

Syara looked up to meet Camarro's pensive eyes, grinding her jaw in festering anger. "What?" She asked him.

Camarro shrugged a shoulder, hanging his head. "Everyday?" He chuckled, but it wasn't one of mirth.

"You weren't there?" Syara squinted in confusion.