Chaos in the Canvas √

19 | repercussions

ولکن لا یمکنک ان تعلق قلبک فلا تشعر
But you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel

Monday - 5:55pm

"Ibrahim."

A small whisper left her lips as she eyed the man who stood before her with all his glory, her pupils dilating for a moment at the sight of him that seemed to be such a natural part of the evening with his towering frame, lean figure and confused expressions - but only for a moment.

A second passed and Hemayal Khakwani had recovered herself, years of dealing with surprises first hand herself and treating patients who brought with them a share of astonishment as well finally paying off. Shaking her head inwardly, she ridded herself of the mist that had clouded her mind for a moment and now only one face seemed to hover over it - Dadu's.

"Hemayal." Ibrahim repeated her name, making her heart miss a broken beat, his eyes squinting in hundred different emotions and Hemayal saw the movement of his Adam's apple with sheer delight - Ibrahim Yazdani was confused, terrified and everything in between, "It's nice to meet you."

Hemayal didn't resist the single eyebrow that shot upwards, giving her an air of taunting mockery and stunned surprise. The guts of this man were beyond her, totally and utterly. After a week he showed up in front of her and the first thing that left his lips were such refined words that she had to remind herself of the atrocities he had committed. Sudden loathing filled her out of nowhere and she didn't even make an attempt to hinder the roll of her eyes.

"I wish I could repeat such fine words." Hemayal punctured her words with all the last bits of venom she had in herself, head held high as she eyed him but he was still a good few inches taller than her despite the heels that added to her height.

Hemayal saw for a second as colors left his face but he recovered, much too quickly to leave any bud of triumph blossoming in her heart. Oh, he was good. He knew how to compose himself, in time and place and although this was a quality she had always appreciated and encouraged in people, Ibrahim Yazdani possessing this attribute filled her with unknown repugnance.

Allah, she could hate even the air that this man breathes.

"Hemayal, I understand you're angry and hurt and..." Ibrahim said, half expecting her to cut him short but when Hemayal didn't interrupt and continued regarding him with a steady glare, he continued, "Can...can we sit somewhere down and talk?"

"One time wasn't enough for you, Mr. Yazdani?" Hemayal could see the way his eyes snapped towards her at the mention of his surname, the movement of his throat an indication of his inner turmoil, "Oh, I forgot. You don't listen to people when they're talking. Yeah, pardon me."

Hemayal's obvious taunt had an effect as Ibrahim's shoulders slumped a little, his lips tightening as he regarded her with a stare that had shards but he blinked, and all the pieces vanished as the gloss in his eyes returned and he begun.

"I didn't know..." Hemayal could see he was at loss of words but she had no intention of making it easy for him, a familiar aged and wrinkled face flashing before her eyes and a known sadness suddenly filled her.

"You didn't know?" Hemayal leaned her head towards him a little as she asked, a smile that bordered a smirk coming to rest on her face but one had to know her too well to understand the hurt that resided in that curve of lips.

"I didn't, I swear I didn't. If I did, I wouldn't have harmed even a single hair of your head..." Ibrahim's voice trailed off and Hemayal immediately straightened in her place.