𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧

۱۷

☾ S E V E N T E E N ⭒

The little girl followed behind Kazimir, her eyes cast downwards, occasionally staring at her wrapped hand. She was reminded of her mother, and how she would not make Barakah do any rough work for the sole reason that her hands would be damaged or ruined. But looking at them now, she couldn't help but remember her mother's words, albeit silly at the time, and how much of an impact they held now.

Kasimir dismissed himself and the girl from the dinner table as soon as the maid was out of sight. He did not care that she was begging and bawling to be returned back. Surely this would be a lesson to the other maids aswell, who thought their disrespect would be tolerated under his roof. He was back and things would have to change.

"Sit" commanded the northerner, eyeing Barakah as she stood next to the door. She didn't want to face him with her teary eyes. She wanted to remain strong, especially now that she was alone with him.

So with her head held low, she slowly sat on the bed, grimacing slightly as she did so. She did not like how she was in such close proximity to him. She recalled the Northerners mother making an attempt to halt the brute for a man from walking away, and in that moment she wished they'd stayed back so she wouldn't have to encounter him then on.

Her mind was on full alert as he made motion to kneel before her. Even with her sat on the bed and him kneeling before her, he still held a couple inches of height on her. Meanwhile, she stared at him with wide eyes, every time she took a breath, she held it back before releasing it. A way to stop her heart from beating so rapidly.

"Breathe" came the Northerners whisper, his eyes looking at her expectantly. His words brought her back to the present, as she tightly shut her eyes, doing as he instructed. She could still feel those blues on her, and for a moment, with her eyes wide shut she, imagined the blue sky she would often gaze at after madrassah when it was just her and her mind. She did not know it was possible to cry with eyes closed and that was why she kept them shut for a while longer, choosing to focus on her breathing instead.

In and out, Barakah, just like that.

Whilst she was busy with the task, Kazimir found this the perfect time to inspect her burnt hand. He gently held it in his own, only for it to be snatched away viciously. Her brown, doe eyes were once again wide with alarm. He pilfered a glance at her hand against her chest, tears gently falling from her eyes.

She did not know what she did for such to happen to her. She was all alone, with no one to save her, and that alone caused her to bite back the locked sob within her throat. Although it was painful to hold her cry in, she managed to do so.

"I won't hurt you" he soothed, holding out his hands before her as if to show her she's safe with him. Yet this statement did little to ease her heart. Despite how much comfort she needed in that moment, she could not accept it from such a man. Hadn't you hurt me enough? She wanted to say.

"Your hand will not heal like this. I'll do nothing more than simply take off the cloth" his voice teased the fine line between patience and something else sure couldn't place her finger on. This was not even a two minute task, yet the little girl before him made it seem as more than that.

"I can do that myself" she wiped away the tears, glancing at him briefly before returning her gaze back to her hand.

"Okay" said the northerner after a couple seconds of consideration. She would not even make it past opening the knot his mother so tightly knotted. He frowned at the thought. The burn was not supposed to be suffocated further, this he knew from his own fair share of injuries.