There was something strange in the way the air felt as Hayat got closer to the tall, varnished oak doors of the mansion. The black gates where already opened before she had turned the corner onto their street. In fact, the car park gates were open too, so that meant there was some sort of guest here.
Perhaps, Baba's friends.
She loved it when her fathers' friends came. They would speak for hours on end, yapping about politics and the current affairs of the world. Whilst she, could finally be herself. She would jump around in her room and make so much noise, only because her father would be in the living room, a hundred yards away from where her bedroom was. To be short, they wouldn't be able to hear a thing.
Her toes curled at the thought of having a nice, relaxing, warm bath, without any disturbances or worries.
And boy was she excited to read each of those papers, one by one, over and over again...
'Hayat!' A firm voice called out to her as she clambered the eighth step, upstairs.
It was no use trying to run to her bedroom, she still had two flights of stairs left.
Damn it.
'Yes, sir.' She turned around, fully well knowing who it was that called her.
'Follow me.' She knew by the shrewd tone of his voice that his command wasn't something she could put up for debate.
She had to follow him.
He walked ahead of her, leading her across the extensive hallway, to the living room where two familiar faces sat.
Their faces beamed with happiness, their wrinkles were blurred out with the smiles tightening their cheeks.
Mr and Mrs Cenk sat, adorned in the most expensive of clothing, matching as always. This time, the colour was a plain plum. Mr Cenk neatened his black blazer and adjusted his plum tie, his stomach protruding out just a bit. Mrs Cenk was quite relaxed. A black shawl covered half her head, the thick pearl necklace brooding beneath her neck. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Hayat and she got up at once, making swift strides towards her.
'Hayat, how lovely to see you dear,' Instead of shaking Hayat's hand, she hugged her and even kissed her veiled cheek. 'Come, sit.'
Hayat was skeptical. The questions in her mind gave her no rest as she sat hesitantly on one of the leather couches, observing the way her father noted her every movement.
'Hayat looked absolutely stunning on the wedding, didn't she Ibrahim?' She smiled momentarily at Hayat before glancing towards Ibrahim.
'Of course!' Mr Cenk bellowed brightly, his gruff voice vibrating in her ears.
'Thank you, Mrs Cenk.' Hayat shyly looked away, flustered with their compliments.
'Please call me Aunty Nina, enough with the formalities.' She laughed with a wave of her hand and went back to laying it on her right folded leg.
'Aunty, how is Amina?' Hayat wanted to throw some sort of conversation in their before an awkward silence dawned upon them.
'She's fine, adjusting to all the pressures of marriage and such...' Aunty Nina trailed off, glancing anywhere but in Hayat's eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Last Sacrifice | #Wattys2018
Romans'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...
