My Twisted Mafia

I'm not sorry.

I almost fell..

Almost.

Thanks the prophet there's this thing called the door, so I held it tight .

Then look up at this guy by the door , in a dark purple shirt..folded at the sleeves..
Untucked..
Three buttons unbuttoned..
Today he didn't wear a watch he always has one on.

Open shoes!? ..

I didn't know he possessed those!

When I snapped my eyes back into his beautiful hazel ones , I found him already looking back ...

With an amused smirk.. I almost facepalm myself

' get a grip girl..'

I internally remind myself that he's the same guy who shouted at me yesterday night..

' you mean nothing to him '

That was painful, but the sooner I admit, the better.
I almost feel tears rushing to my eyes.. upon the memory.
I quickly look away moving aside so  he can pass ..I don't see his face but I know his eyes are on my back questioning my sudden change of behavior towards him..
but I don't look back..
I can't, not when my vision is blurred by tears

" Brother is in his room.. you can call him"

I walk direct to my room, pain shooting from my foot to my whole body..

Oh I forgot about my sprained ankle.

So I limp, till the door, when I'm in I lock it.. then I stare at the door knob
I don't know why , but disappointment washes me when I don't see the door knob twist. And I don't know that I'm crying till I feel something wet my hand ..maybe I had expected that he'd follow me.

But why, I'm just a friend.. in fact a friend's sister.
I then force a smile, then rub the tears with a sigh..

" I'm being stupid.. Allah will bring me a perfect guy.."

I stand then straighten my dress. Now I know how Ilham must be feeling every day Naseer rejects her .. I wonder how she copes.
I move to the mirror and notice my red swollen eyes, of course I'd cried a lot since yesterday..
After reassuring myself, I again get out ,my eyes locked on the floor. I didn't look up, even when I heard their quiet murmurs like they were conversing something important.. work I guess
I walk, no limp to the kitchen.

God This leg will kill me .

I was cooking, but now I can no longer... They should just go out or something
I sit on the stool hoping my foot would give me relief .
Out of no where ,no out of the living room I hear a laughter .. curiosity gets the best of me I jump down

' ouch..'

This leg my God
I peep from the kitchen counter, I find them laughing ,they look like models captured for a 'friendly talk' picture ..

I sigh

" It's not fair..how can they talk and laugh lively while my head is in chaos.. because of them" I whined to myself

I pulled the stool and sat again since my leg was hurting a lot. I rested my head on the kitchen table..
I didn't even know when sleep overwhelmed me.. I was surprised when I felt a light pat on my back , I rose my head then looked up

Why was he looking at me with a concerned face ..

I pushed back the few strands of hair that had covered my face then quickly covered my head.

" What do you want?" I asked

That was harsher than what I had planned in my head ..I looked away.
When he did not respond,I looked up his height towering mine despite the fact that I sat on the kitchen stool