"Never did anybody look so sad. Bitter and black, halfway down, in the darkness, in the shaft which ran from the sunlight to the depths, perhaps a tear formed; a tear fell; the waves swayed this way and that, received it, and were at rest. Never did anybody look so sad."
-Virginia Woolf
Perhaps a slight gore/graphic warning? Not exactly but there you are.
The darkness was disturbing to the Qadir that laid on her bed in her Slum apartment. At her left side, she could hear the familiar light snores of her Halfling fiancé, who'd fallen asleep with her curled against his side. The faint shine of moonlight spilled across the rough blankets covering them like milk poured by a tot. The young woman leaned her head towards her lover until her forehead rested ever so gently against his cheek, soaking in the friendly touch as she continued to watch the night through the rightward window. That was until it suddenly reflected like a mirror on a rare glass pane across the way. With a gasp, the girl suddenly rocketed her head to the side and it clunked carelessly against Aedarharon's- who snorted with displeasure in his slumber.
The Qadir squeezed her eyelids shut, taking in loud breaths to calm herself from the sudden onset of panic. Her eyes - eye - refused to open back up at the memory, the fear that washed over her in an unbearable cold sea. She knew, irrationally and incorrectly knew, that if she were to open her eyes then and there she'd see that dagger staring into her face with hellfire reflecting off of it. She'd feel that ungodly burning of pain through her skull as the dagger met her, she'd hear her own screams ripping from her and ricocheting off the dungeon's cobble walls as the other Inquisitors stood around with either horrified or wickedly pleased expressions.
Her feet kicked free against the bed as she screeched at the memory, rightfully so. Aedarharon gave a squawk of panic at the bloodcurdling shrieking in his ear which sent him rolling off the bed and thudding to the floor below. Her pained screams fell off into gut wrenching sobs, the Qadir pressed her palms against her face as she gasped for air against the cries that escaped her. She was rarely so beaten, but now was different, now she felt only like dead weight with no purpose. The Jouhari that slept with her crawled quickly off the floor and back onto the bed, shushing Azra gently as he gathered her form into his arms. The usually unemotional- or at least in a "desperately broken" sort of emotional sense- clung hopelessly to his chest as her short lived sobs winded quickly down to childish whimpers.
She swallowed the remainder of her tears as she attempted to rein back her emotions, collect them again into manageable pieces but the dam was already cracked: and while she held it mostly together, pained whimpers or sniffs continued to escape hopelessly. Aedarhon leaned back against the wall the bed rested near as he held her close like the blubbering child she seemed to be in the moment, no grace behind her tears.
"Sorry for waking you," the girl finally whispered out against the resumed silence of the night, save for distant crow calls and excited shouts of night owl Slum boys. Aed released a forced laugh at her apology, it coming out more an awkward grunt.
"Don't worry about it, I wasn't that asleep anyways." Azra nodded as if agreeing, though she could nearly taste the heavy lie that mocked the weight of rain in the air. She knew from his snores he'd been deep in a slumber which only increased her guilt of disturbing him. Another awkward moment passed and he shifted his arms to hold him closer to him and ask softly, "Are you okay?"
The question was loud in the darkness and Azra stared upwards at his undefined features, squinting to see them better. She considered nodding and lying to him, then shaking her head and having to explain why. The decision left her anxiety stabbing her in pestering manner and she sat mutely instead. Like any that understands their loved one well, Aedarharon understood the silence as her answer and the meaning that sat behind i, just behind the shadow of her missing eye. The halfling released a heavy sigh and folded closer against her, pressing a kiss to her brow with no other comforts to give.
He could say many things to comfort her, Aed might have realized later; many things that would've comforted other women, at least, if they had found themselves held within his arms. Instead though, he bit his tongue and continued to lounge against the wall as he watched her gaze lock into something distant in the window, her body stiffening in a fear that he couldn't wash away besides rubbing her arms carefully like one would when warming another. The boy could only sit and watch her work through her horrors so that she could continue on just like last time. Just like with the ear, the brand, the beatings, and now the eye.
Just like every time she attempted to leave the soulless place called the Slums.
