On this cold winter evening, all attention is riveted on her. Matchmaking. To think that all of them seemed to have been children only a short time ago. Leyla has lacked this long-forgotten, bygone carelessness lately. Today, Ayhan looks at her with respect, but at the same time with a hint of barely noticeable cold: she is still trying to understand whether she is playing some strange, dangerous game. No wonder, Aydin doesn't really believe in the truth of her own feelings, and loyalty of this sharp, unclear choice. But Ayhan, of course, understood what Osman found in her — blue-eyed blonde, slender and tall, Leyla was smart and straightforward, and most importantly ― damn beautiful. In the dim light of a small chandelier and candles placed around the house, her outfit sparkles give gentle but cold shades, attracts looks to itself like a magnet. Aydin is pretty smiling: today she is more confident than ever.
Ayhan's distrustful and suspicious like a blade sight meets with calm and emotionless of Leyla. Offended by distrust, she proudly raised chin and looks right ahead, not even thinking to look away. This is her life, her choice; she will create her own destiny. Let Ayhan watch; there's nothing can do. Sooner or later, in any case, she will have to believe or just accept it. And besides, Leyla was never interested in what others thought of her.
Osman seldom looked into her eyes, but if he did, Aydin noticed admiration, eternal affection and some strange, unfamiliar tiredness in his eyes. He lost and gained too much in the years that they know each other. Leyla understood: give him a free will — and he gladly would have traded all of the newly earned money on living and healthy parents. It seems that even tonight he doesn't care about the celebration, however, when he confronting Aydin in the very center of the narrow living room, he shudders and freezes.
Leyla looks at him a little reproachfully, and for a long time — she has nothing to turn away for. Osman, probably, waited too long for the moment when they would finally be together. After a couple of moments, the girl notices an innocent, happy smile on his face and reluctantly forgets that she wanted to give herself to a completely different man.
The sound of the doorbell, bringing her back to reality, making her flinch. In a silk dress, with her slightly disheveled hair and with a box of chocolates in her hands, excited Leyla with a smile on her face run to open the door. The doorknob slowly turns, the door creaks faintly. She no longer wants to smile.
He looks at her again the same way he always does: openly, with inexpressible flutter. If she were him, she would probably stab herself in the heart with a dozen sharp knives, or at least throw herself under a car, from the sight of a gold ring on her finger. And he's not. Both in life and at work, he always had patience and a share of, taken from somewhere, optimism. Emre came on matchmaking alone, perhaps hoping to have time to tell everything before it was too late, or maybe to see her for the last time before their paths will finally diverge in different directions. He didn't take the sweets from her hand, just stood in the doorway, unable to say a word. For a while, they looked at each other with the tenderness that was familiar in those moments when they were still together. Divit turned his gaze to Osman, who had come down, looked at Leyla again and smiled lightly, but somehow broken and unnaturally, though she probably just imagined.
Emre looks at her the way they look at a small, naughty and restless child who, whatever one may say, brings nothing but trouble and hassle, however, with all this, they still love him so much, no less. Divit's gaze is full of some hellish mixture of tenderness, pain, and humility; with this entire paradoxical situation, there is not a hint of anger or resentment in him, as if he tells her: Only if you really want it. In his milky-blue eyes, Aydin still notices devotion, poisonous sadness, and great, endless love.
Leyla knows that he is still looking at her, not turning away, as if he wants to hit himself with reality as hard as possible and punish himself. Masochist.
Standing in a draught in a narrow doorway and being under the sight of these relatives, painfully familiar eyes, Aydin for the first time in this evening looks away.
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Chocolate & Whiskey
Romance[Drabble Collection] They're different. So different. Searing scotch whiskey in a glass with transparent ice cubes. Strong drink helped to forget. Perhaps, that's why Emre loved it so much. But hot chocolate remained the best delicacy for Leyla. Ap...
