At His Mercy

19-Adam

I sit and stare at the screen. the numbers blur into one big haze. I haven't been able to concentrate all day. The plan has totally backfired on me, I can't stop thinking about Aya. she's becoming an addiction again. I thought she'd be out of her depth, but it turns out she's taken to life here like a duck to water. I don't know why that bothers me so much, but it does. I guess the juvenile part of me is disappointed. I wanted to make it inconvenient for her, I wanted her to be stuck not knowing how to adjust to life here, with my family. but she seems to be winning people over as if its easy. everything seems to be effortless.

It wasn't always like this. how long did it take me to win her trust, get her to take a chance on me? months, nearly a year! now suddenly she's best friends with my mother! The Zulqurnains were fawning over her. I tell myself its because she's pretty, but its not just that, she has effortless class. people are drawn to her. even Zara who hates almost everyone can tolerate her.

What I can't quite grasp is how affected I am by her. with every intention of making her pay, I now find myself behaving in a way which is nothing short of pathetic. I've shown her I want her, even worse: that I need her. last night I carried her upstairs, her head on my shoulder. sated, she was pliable, no smart sass, no defensive front- it reminded me of what we were like before. I put her down and climbed into bed with her. she held onto my arms, kissing my forearms as they went around her. I held her all night and watched her fall sleep. I haven't done that ever. Not even when we were happy, she never spent the night. sure I held her and we slept together, but she always had to leave. it wasn't the same.

Now, I find myself needing her. she's more beautiful than I remember. the shadows have gone from her eyes, that vulnerability she tried so hard to hide. that sadness.

when the anger had dissipated, it left a feeling of guilt. I didn't want to leave her, but I did. I couldn't justify my actions- there werent any excuses. I didn't go back. Perhaps I knew she would blame me for abandoning her. It was easier to just pretend it was over.

6 years ago. . .

she stands there shifting her weight from foot to foot, its cold and she's wearing a sweatshirt jeans and big thick duffle coat. she's checking her phone, getting ready to go in the lecture hall. she's wearing her hair down. Glowing, her cheeks flushed from the cold. I'm nervous.

I feel nauseous. I thought she'd left the course. she didn't turn up for lectures and the anxiety had grown. How many times did I ask the others to text her and check where she was? I don't even have her number. Then she was there and a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. ofcourse I fancy her, but I like her too, she's a genuinely nice person. but yesterday I realised I actually need her to be ok. It's completely illogical. I'd been on edge for the last 3 days.

She's stood there, in front of me with shadows under her eyes and a brave smile, that can't hide the vulnerability and the fact that she is just holding it together. I knew then I couldn't stand back and pretend. I knew that there was something that had drawn me to her all these months. there isn't any other explanation, I dont want to use the 'l' word, because it is so cliche, but what I'm feeling about her doesn't make any sense.

I've thought about it all night. Is this some sort of hero complex? Am I trying to save her or something? But its not that. From the first time I saw her, she's had this magnetic pull on me.
So here I am standing at the top of the stairs outside the Kilburn building watching her. Deep breath. I've had a shave, my hands are sweaty despite the cold. I feel the shape of the square box over my coat pocket.
Then I'm striding towards her. She looks up and does a double take. At first looking past me then straight at me. Suddenly recognising me. She raises her eyebrows in an impressive gesture and smiles.
'How do you feel about gambling?' I ask.
It's a strange uncertain smile, as if she's not sure what I mean. I reach into my pocket and pull out the leather box. Her eyes are wide as she takes it in. Oh god! She just stares, not sure of what to make about me.
'Take a chance on me!' I whisper in a low voice.
For the first time she drags her eyes away from the box and looks at me. I mean really sees me for the first time.
Her smile is better than i could ever have imagined. I raise my hand, palm open, out to her. Slowly, tentatively she raises her own and takes it. . . .