Talking to the Moon ✔

-Chapter: Thirty Seven-

The news of Omar had affected me more than it was necessary. I could already feel my stomach twisting in knots at the prospect of him leaving to Rayt -- the desert.

I paced in the Monarch's room -- the one place that I was allowed to whatever I wanted as long as I did not disturb him. It was also the one place that I did not have to pretend.

I bit my lips as irritation and confusion ebbed inside of me. How could I possibly convince him to stay? I could not risk him going there. He did not know those people. I did not know them either but from whatever I had learned, they were dangerous. But was questioning Omar's judgement a good move. I bit my lip hard enough that it started bleeding, I ignored the taste of blood as I continued pacing.

What if by questioning him, I would push him to do what he had already decided to do?  He was stubborn man, I had to give him that.

"Did I do something?"

The Monarch asked the question in such a way that I froze mid-step. I thought he had been sleeping, I turned towards the bed where he was looking at me confused. I shook my head slightly.

I could feel the innocence radiating out of him. He was simply confused -- there were so many things that didn't make sense to him anymore.

I shook my head again as I moved to sit on the bed.

He had been doing that a lot recently, trying to initiate a conversation but that did not necessarily mean that we did have a conversation. It was hard for him to understand me.

"Do you have a name?" He said frowning.

I smiled and nodded.

"You cannot..." he looked at me hesitantly as if trying to solve something complex, "you cannot talk."

I shook my head to that even though it was not a question but merely a statement. He looked at me and for the first time since I had known him, I saw a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

"Did something happen?" He asked and I realised that his voice was stronger, louder.

I shook my head again. Then making a cradle with hand, I tried to show him that I was this way by birth. He nodded in response, deep in some thought.

"I..." he sat up frowning slightly as he tried to figure something out. I wonder what happened in his mind. "I distracted you."

It was my turn to frown as I blinked at him confused. He looked at me with his grey eyes, his beard showing hints of white even though he was still young.

I had noticed it before but I could not help but make the observation of how different the brothers looked. I had seen potraits of the three sisters that came in between their six years age gap. Out of the three, only one had similar eyes like the Monarch. But even she looked like Omar more than Qamar. She was the youngest -- only one year older to Omar.

Coming back from my thoughts, I gently touched the Monarch's shoulder, he looked at my hand but didn't shrug it off, then he looked straight into my eyes.

Thank you, I mouthed.

He stared at my mouth for a while, nodded and then looked away.

"You are damaged too." He simply whispered more to himself than to me. Something struck my heart at those words and I gulped. I stared at him incredulously and when he didn't look at me, I moved away from him dissappointed.

I was not hurt. I had been called worse. But, somehow, in the span of months; I had begun to think of Qamar as a friend -- someone who didn't judge.

"I am insane. You're damaged. We fit." Qamar continued in a hollow voice, "Is that why you are allowed to visit me?"

I looked at him pathetically, my mind reeling: where was this leading to?

"I..." he shook his head, blinked and then looked up at my questioning, "Why do you help me?"

I stared at his hand, it was still. His voice was calm and curious. His body was not trembling and he was meeting my gaze.

This was not another attack. He was simply curious.

I thought over the answer and hesitated. How would I make him understand? I searched over the room with my eyes and then looked at me. I pointed at him and then at myself. Sighing, I placed my two arms like a cross on my chest.

He looked at me and then his expression turned incredulous. It was so weird to see such a human reaction on his face. In response, my heart inflated like a balloon.

"You love me?" He huffed in disbelief.

I laughed loudly at his response. He moved slightly as if taken aback my reaction. I smiled shyly at him. He simply shook his head and regained his composure.

I looked around the room again, desperately searching for some sort of inspiration or idea to make him understand. I went and grabbed the frame of Aqib that he kept on his shelf and brought it to him. He looked at it, but with a frown. He looked up at simply blinked at me.

It was my turn to huff and then I glanced at the moon peeping from his window. I remembered something that Omar had said a while ago. He had said that he saw this light in me. I did not know what that meant. I still didn't.

I went to Qamar and pulled him to his feet. He reluctantly followed me as I made him stand in front of the window. I pointed at the silver ball that emitted so much radiance and then pointed at the dark shadows of his room.

He raised an eyebrow. Something that took me by surprise again: could I somehow be getting the real Qamar back?

I pointed at the shadows and then pointed at him. Then, I pointed at the Moon and pointed at myself.

He frowned, glancing between his room and the moon multiple times. He walked away from the moon's glow and in the shadows.

"Dark." He said.

And then he took a step towards the window and the silver tendrils touched his face.

"Light." He said.

I smiled.

"You are my light." He stated in a matter-of-fact tone as if he didn't expect anything else.

I shook my head. He sighed dissappointed.

I shook my head again, he looked at me and then I mouthed slowly.

I want to be.

"What?"

I want to be, I repeated slowly and in an exaggerated manner.

He nodded and then shook his head. Walking towards his bed, he sat with a loud thump and lay on his back. He stared at the ceiling and I could not make out his expression.

"That is something Iqra would have said." He whispered and then rolling to his side. He closed his eyes.