Hey y'all :)
So.. this is gonna be a fic. A short story, actually, so yeah. One with mayber 6-7 parts, I'm not sure yet.
Um, and this isn't proof read and its quite possibly the shittest thing I have ever written- I done in a span of 20 minutes and I just read through it and its clunky and I think the tense changes- I'm sorry.
Ill fix it up tomorrow because I'm in the middle of writing another SaHil story. Its gonna be a full fledged fic (AU too, inspired by SPN), and it'll be up in maybe a week? I'll update this one after I post the prologue of that one :)
I hope you don't hate this one too much *crosses fingers*
CHAPTER 2- I'LL PRAY FOR YOU
Its after the seviya incident when Sanam starts to notice other little things, the tiny bouts of desperation lingering on Nazia's face when Aahil grips her too tight- as though to never let go- and the way she looks at him as though she pities him, and it- it makes Sanam feel sick.
The unpleasant pull high in her stomach increases, and Sanam doesn't know if she even wants to find out about the skeletons in his closet, the secrets that the house holds tight against its chest.
Sanam names him a Jalladh Jinn the day they are in the office, clothes wet and sticking to both of them like a second skin, temper high and level red. Says that she has to think 100 times before calling him a human. The reaction is instantaneous- back hunched low and head bowed- before the lone glass of water meets the ground, and the pieces bump off each other, spreading to the corners like a curtain.
Sanam flinches at the sharp sound, looks up to see a face made of blank slate, breathing heavily, chin meeting chest, eyes closed, and forgets to hate him and starts to decipher him.
When Asma's Ammi brings up the topic of Aahil's Abbu and how she's grateful that he is no more, didn't want to send her daughter to hell after all, Sanam's eyes find Aahil's before she herself makes the conscious decision. She doesn't know the whole story, far from it, but she knows enough. Enough that the emotion flittering across his face, attempting to hide under thin, malleable skin, she knows it isn't showcasing meek vulnerability, but fear. Pure, unaltered fear.
And when he proudly excuses his self, head high and I have to make an important call, sorry, Sanam doesn't think twice. She follows him.
And as she hides behind one of the thick, ridged pillars, she hears him breathe fast and shallow, sees feet slipping against the floor until he is resting on his knees, and watches, face painted stark with horror as Aahil covers his head and weeps.
It is then she stops thinking damaged and starts thinking broken.
She thinks back to Latif's words, the warning hidden behind every unforgiving sentence, and the urge to run, now, away from all this, is so fierce that she herself has to sit, sweat lining her brows and prickling her neck.
The night greets her with harsh rain and tall shadows, and dreams gift her with a ringing sound of stop, stop, stop.
The cracks and splinters and rips that cover Aahil, overshadow the memories of the arrogant, haughty, man that Sanam had loathed with all her being.
She needs answers. The whole crisp, real truth that could explain the things that haunt the few, broken members of this house. And she is going to get them, no matter how much it costs her.
Sorry if its too bad *winces*
Xx
Title is from Kodaline's Pray :)
PS. the chapters of this story are gonna be short btw, just saying, it'll be awkward to have two short ones and then 4 long ones 🤣
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