Stolen Voices ✓

November 15th

plz read the authors note at the end

November 15th:

Mara will consider herself a feminist, even frequenting a few rallies back when the world was so black and white. But right now, curled into a ball on the withered couch, Ryn trailing her fingers through Mara's soft locks, she wishes to be anything else. One week out of every month, unless blessed from above, being a girl is the most horrendous thought.

With the territory comes heightened emotion and a sense of longing. The group is scattered around the flat, with Mara and Ryn occupying the decrepit couch. Cairo is on the floor, his hair having been buzzed by Ryn that morning. He is grading papers for his elementary class, twirling the pen between his fingers. Absentmindedly disregarding whatever the girls are on about.

Cairo moved to the states with his father months after his mother and eldest brothers passed. His father, grieving over his loss, had put so much control on Cairo that he disobeyed. Tattoos, getting high in the basement and buzzing his hair was the first of his opposing antics. Falling in love with a girl who had no real aspirations of a risked future, just experiencing at the second, was his atrocity.

But Cairo loves Ryn with everything he can, and that is that. It's why he is so comfortable listening to the two girls talk about their periods, quietly ignoring them.

"Ryn," Mara says, distress laced in her voice, "I kissed him."

"And," Ryn snorts, brushing her fingers over the nape of Cairo's neck. She does this to assure him she is still around, something she has learned early on he needs. Though Cairo never talks about his antiquity, what Ryn does know was horrific. That's why she will reassure him she is still here with a brush of her fingertip.

"And I felt something," she cries, pinching her eyes shut.

"You liked it?" Ryn taunts, flicking Mara's forehead. They are a comfortable bunch, the mellow music lullabies in the background. It is midday on a Saturday, and while Mara is beyond emotional, Ryn finds it all entertaining. Cairo, only in the way he could, manages to drown out their near proximity. He'd learned how to create his own haven at the age of six and adapted it along the way.

"Yes, I liked it," Mara hisses, furrowing her eyebrows. Ryn had plucked them earlier, still stinging a tinge, red around the edges.

"Then tell him," Ryn tsks, pushing Mara off her lap. With a frown, her eyes fly open to see Ryn scowling at her. With her arms crossed firmly over her chest, Cairo takes this minute to glance up.

"He loves you, Mara," Cairo includes, grabbing the two's attention, "you have to be blind not to see that."

"But it isn't enough, Cai. I will never be...normal," she frowns, picking at the scarred skin on her wrists. 

This is her vulnerability, thinking that Elias will never love the same person. Does he like the variant of her that is the stars, or the version of her that is anarchy. Can he love her when she stands on another edge of a cliff? When she runs into the middle of a street without fear?

"I know what it's like to be him," Cairo interjects. "After I watched my family dissolve, I was afraid of love. I didn't want to let anyone in and built up these walls to protect myself. But then Cathryn came," he shrugs, smiling softly.

"He's guarded," Mara sighs, "and I hurt him once."

"And you'll hurt him again. But when it's real love, then it won't matter in the end," Cairo states resolutely. "You say he's guarded, but he's let you this close."