Rayhan collapsed onto his broken mattress on the floor. He was a right mess. The ends of his trousers were painted with mud from all the puddles he walked into unknowingly. His clothes were stained with coffee marks and he didn't know where he would find the cash to clean his suit up.
His only suit.
He kicked off his shoes angrily and lay down trying his best to calm himself down. The springs dug into his back, but he didn't care. He closed his eyes and let out a few deep breathes, his chest heaving in rhythm.
He heard the usual coughs resonating from his fathers room and he felt utterly useless that he couldn't help him. He wanted to be there for his father but how? How was he supposed to bring him out of whatever he was going through. Right now, he needed his father the most. Abdullah was a no show and he'd always have his back. Without him, he had no other friend.
It was frivolous assuming that Hayat's father wouldn't catch him. But he was only doing his job and even then he was called for it! By those stupid, stuck up, arrogant cretins. Still the words he spoke echoed in Rayhan's mind and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of them.
How the hell was he meant to stay away from Hayat?
Muffled laughter and dead-pan music bounced off the walls and one could easily hear it from the outside. Nonetheless, the night was still peaceful with the moon glowering upon the inhabitants of the earth. His whistling became ceased as the backdoors opened with a fulminating clank.
'I knew I'd find you here,' A tall figure hovered over Rayhan, he could easily recognise the intimidating individual by the tone of his shrewd voice.
'Keeping the trash company,' The clicking of his heels against the cool tarmac in rhythm, agitated Rayhan with each second. He could feel anger pulsate his veins upon every single word that man uttered.
'Trash, like you and that mentally incompetent father of yours.' He crossed the line and the man stood firm duly expecting a reply.
'What do you want?' Rayhan seethed through his clenched jaws as he twisted around to meet with the man's piercing gaze.
He threw a wad of cash on the floor at Rayhan's feet, never once averting his eyes from him. Rayhan didn't flinch, not once.
'Get out from here and stay away from my family.'
The clanking of the door echoed through his mind much like that threat and Rayhan took a good look at the cash near his feet. Who the hell did he think he was?
That man really knew how to get under his skin.
He spat directly on and crumpled the pile of notes with the soles of his worn out loafers, ripping them apart in fragmented halves.
'I'm sorry, Hayat.'
Muffled laughter and the same dead-pan music continued further into the streets as his figure became nothing but a faded chassis consumed by the darkness of the night.
***
They reached home in no more than 7 minutes to be exact and the chauffeur breathed a sigh of relief, thanking Allah that he took a route away from all the traffic built up, otherwise he would've been sacked by now.
Hayat was tired. Tired of sitting with people who she couldn't even relate to and she didn't even get to say goodbye to Inayah. Heck, she disappeared just like Rayhan did.
She just wanted to know why he had left so soon. I mean, he didn't owe her a 'goodbye' or anything. Maybe, she was just being silly. He was obviously busy with so many customers, and she just seemed to get in everyone's way. Who was he to her anyway? Just a person she knew at a shop. That's it, nothing more and nothing less.
Although, why did Hayat feel so empty then? Like she was missing something when he left. In fact, she was just depressed after he left. She was no longer happy to stay there. It was as if the only reason why she went to that wedding in the first place was because she had hope he'd be there, and maybe he'd keep her company throughout the whole event.
What wishful thinking!
'I'm assuming you had fun tonight.' His grim voice echoed through the lobby, knocking her out of her reverie.
He poured a glass of spring water with a single hand and took a seat on one of the leather couches. His favourite seat. He folded his leg and eyed Hayat warily. Every action of his was swift and poised, his body language easily mirroring precision.
'Yes, Baba, it was fun.' Hayat lied through her teeth. What else could she say?
'And how was the coffee? How did it taste?' She sensed an impish air to his question and something told her it wasn't about a pathetic drink. Had he seen her with Rayhan? If that was the case, why couldn't he be straightforward about it? She didn't do anything wrong, or so she thought.
'It was good. It tasted perfect.' Hayat gritted her teeth and tapped hastily against the fine oak of the staircase banisters. She was utterly fed up with everyone. Her father was exactly like those snobbish people at the wedding and that seemed to sadden her even more.
He studied her every reaction carefully and his gaze was unflinching. 'You are dismissed.'
She felt light as she almost ran up the stairs, her heels clicking loudly with every step she took.
'Hayat.' His voice was rough and contorted with a tinge of anger. She felt just how everyone else felt when they first met him, intimidated.
She froze on the sixth step, to be exact, and turned to meet his cold leer.
'Watch your step.'
YOU ARE READING
Last Sacrifice | #Wattys2018
Romance'I can't stop.' His voice was husky and his breath, ragged. He backed her up against the wall, the warmth of his breath penetrating her ears and his lips lightly brushing against the soft skin of her earlobe. She closed her eyes, sucking in her bo...
