Anabelle [o.d]

#3

#3

    THE SMOKE LEFT Mathew Orland’s lips in a scattered puff dispersing into the cold London air. It was time for sunset. The evening air was getting cooler as the sun disappeared and the moon reappeared. People rushed inside and out the hospital, cars parked in the parking lot, and all that they were oblivious of Mathew’s presence against the white brick wall of the hospital building.

He missed the sunny day today. The sun and warm air didn’t get the chance to kiss his pale skin. He was numb, cold. Not even a jacket in hand, for he wanted to feel the cold air nimble on his skin. It sets him back to reality. He doesn’t want to stray like his usual self. Straying to non-reality is what ruined his life from the first place.

“You’re killing yourself” Mathew’s thoughts were interrupted as he set his eyes on wild green captivating eyes. The green of her eyes always mesmerized him. Having been standing close to her, he could always notice the hazel around the green irises.

Fascinating really.

“What does it matter anymore?” he took another drag ignoring her and puffing it on her face deliberately, watching her as she closed her eyes and fanned the smoke away from her face.

“Matters to me Matty” she replied, as she stood beside him, her back against the same white brick wall. He knew it was going to form dust on the back of her white shirt, but she seems not to mind.

“Don’t Claire” he replied, removing his gaze from the side of her face. Staring right ahead at the street lamp that just lit due to the darkening of the sky. The object illuminated light above them, making Mathew’s pale skin lighter and Claire Watson’s auburn hair to glimmer.

Moths danced around the light. Such weird creatures. Attracted to light, and only appear wherever there is light. They stay away from the dark, yet, they’re never there when the sun is out. Is it the artificial light that draws them closer?

Much like humans. Attracted to artificial beauty rather than real beauty.

Such stupid creatures they are – moths and humans.

“Why not Matty?” Claire spoke again, “Isn’t it over?” He wished she didn’t speak. Those words that came out of her mouth stung deep inside his chest, squeezing it, giving him physical pain. He didn’t study about that in medical school, emotional physical pain – or he might be having a heart attack.

Dropping the cigarette on the floor, he squeezed it with the heel of his foot and walked away from the girl with the beautiful eyes.

     ZAYN MALIK WAS not a light sleeper. He could sleep through a fire – and that was literally. Being on a tight schedule for the past four years, he cherished every single second of rest time he could have. He spent them sleeping and only sleeping.

Waking Zayn up from his slumber was not proven easy by Anabelle. She started with a gentle rub on the back, moved to his shoulders, then rubbed his scalp with her long fingers, nails covered with red nail polish – but he did not wake up nevertheless.

Grunting internally – but not removing the smile from her face – she turned to the half-awake boys, “What should I do?”

“Leave him or throw cold water at him” Louis grumbly stated. Anabelle noticed he is quite grumpy since she walked into the house.

“I’ll just let him be, I’ll heat the soup later for him” she solved and took back his bowl of soup into the kitchen, putting it back into the still hot pot. Making her way back to the boys, she gave them each a bowl.