''Hey little bee.''
His soft, husky voice sounded close to her ear.
''Yes?''She looked up at him, smiling at the way he looked down at her. She knew what the others saw as she looked at him because it was the same thing she saw reflected in his dimm...
A/N This might not make sense now but it might just serve as extra information for the chapter. The story is currently taking place in about 2009 or so. So there is an airport in Bloemfontein but due to the fact that we hosted the 2010 Fifa world cup, many airports in SA underwent massive renovations and there were times when there were no flights coming in or out of certain airports which is why they had to take a flight from Cape Town to Joburg and then drive up to Bloemfontein.
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The handbrake of his rental car was too stiff for his liking. It was a pain to pull up and even worse to drop but besides that, it ran just a little too perfectly. He almost wished it had given him problems or stalled or stopped entirely just so he wouldn't have to walk back through those glass doors.
He had every intention of staying in his hotel room to complete his work but he couldn't have possibly ignored Dr Cornelius' call asking him to go back in. Riaz's feet felt like lead as he walked slowly through the massive sliding doors. The smell of Dettol and hand sanitiser burnt his nose as he walked past the foyer. He ignored the patrons in the coffee shop and the scent of freshly baked cakes as he made his way down the sterilised hallway. It was white and bleak and the paintings on the walls did nothing except collect dust along its wide frames. The smell of bleach grew bolder as he made his way towards the ICU. The hums of the monitors and machines did nothing to soothe his mind and the taste of nicotine on his lips only served to feed his need for more. He knew they could smell the smoke on his clothing. He did nothing to mask the fact that he had lit up stick after stick since that phone call and even the ache in his chest did nothing to quell his desire for it.
Dr Cornerlius' white hair was visible from down the hall. He had just vacated Zaheer's room and was too focused on the clipboard in his hand to notice Riaz walk right up to him.
"Why did you call me here?" The smell of ash caught his nose before he heard his voice and it was always a marvel that he had to crane his head to truly look at the younger man in his face. His father was tall but Riaz had surpassed him with inches to spare.
The words because he's your father were meant to escape the doctor's lips, but as he caught sight of Riaz's exposed wrist, the words had instantly faded away.
After all these years, the marks on his arms had never truly disappeared. They had lightened but they were still there and every single ounce of shame and guilt he had felt only seemed to have returned tenfold as he looked at them.
"Let's take a seat out here, okay." He led Riaz to the small lounge set tucked away in an alcove around the corner, gathering his words as they walked. "You're aware that your father suffered a massive stroke."
"Yeah, you mentioned it on the phone."
"The thing is," he licked his lips, wiping his hands along the seams of his trousers in order to distract himself from Zaheer's true condition, "your father's body is shutting down."
