Glory of the Midnight Sun √

Seven

When shock wears off, when the body can accept that a trauma has happened, when it can let down its defences, it's a scary moment. It's vulnerable. The shock response had protected us, and it just might have saved us.

Omer

She stood there, not in her senses, her head on Omer's chest, her soft body pressed against his hard one. Omer felt a storm raging inside of him erupting from the pit of his stomach and reaching his every nerve, setting it on fire too.

His hand which was snaked around the woman's small waist, was burning. His chest on which the woman rested her head, was blazing.

Finally he looked down at her and his breath caught in his throat. She looked more beautiful like this, he hated to admit it.

She looked so peaceful, serenity oozing out of her body, that Omer secretly wished for her problems to evaporate into the thin air, selfishly forgetting that he was the sole reason her problems had turned into a mountain.

But the calmness was short lived for his thoughts were disrupted when his father reached him hurriedly and placed his hands on Fariya's arms.

He looked up at his father for a moment and his heart skipped a beat this time.

So much pain.

So much misery.

The man in front of him lost his brother and Omer felt that his anger towards him died, just like his Uncle.

He tore his gaze away from his father, who was still looking down at his dead brother's daughter, and bent down. Omer wrapped his one hand around her knees and with the other he tightened his hold on her waist and pulled her body up against his chest.

He swallowed the sudden feel that erupted in his chest and carried her through the corridor, followed by his weak father.

Entering the room on the left, and after he had laid her weak body on the sofa, Omer stood to his full height and peered down at the woman lying on the sofa.

Retreating his steps, he went outside and returned shortly afterwards with a glass of water in his hands. Omer sprinkled the water on her face but she didn't show any movements, still lying on the sofa, immobile.

He sprinkled the water again, this time more forcefully and let out a breath of relief when he saw that her eyes fluttered open and her lips parted a little.

With great difficulty, she opened her eyes but closed them again instantly when the golden rays of the sun peeking from the window made contact with her eyes.

"Fariya?"

Omer felt the tired yet worried voice of his father beside him but he didn't take his eyes off the lady who was trying to get up.

Swallowing the desire to go to the woman and help her, he finally averted his eyes and looked at the door and that's when his heart leapt to his throat as he saw his mother-in-law, his Chacho's wife standing at the door, her children beside her.

Her eyes were wide and petrified but there was confusion in them too, as if she was not understanding anything. Omer did not have the courage to go to her and break the news to her and he felt relieved when his father walked past him and stopped right in front of them.

"Bhabhi, please come inside."

His father's voice was low and weak, hiding immense pain behind it, masking it from the family of the man who had just died.

The woman stood there, not moving and her gaze fixed on the woman sitting on the couch.

"What happened to Fariya?"