Page 267 of Eternal
Azra was drunk. More than tipsy at least. I could see the flush on her cheeks from the wine, the redness creeping up as she swayed slightly in my arms. Her eyes were soft, hazy with alcohol, exhaustion and maybepain.
Her irises were light and almost too wide under the sky. They were beautiful. They were the only thing I could focus on.Her eyes.
I couldn't stop staring.
She was beautiful. In the way that a dream was beautiful, something unreachable, something you taste once and know you won’t have it all your life. It made my chest ache.
Her jaw, where the scar ran, was flushed now as she just let herself float somewhere further than the moon.
“You're beautiful,” I whispered.
She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she looked out at the water, breathing slowly and carefully.
I could feel her tension, the way her muscles were tight in the way she sat, the way she held herself.
She wanted to pull away. So, I pulled hercloser, gently, making her rest against my chest more comfortably. I didn’t ask if she wanted it. I didn’t care. She was mine to understand, even if she hated me for it. Even if she was too mad to accept it.
“Azra,” I murmured, tilting her face up to meet mine, keeping her close enough that I could see every color in her eyes.
Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked up at me. She didn’t want to meet my eyes; I could tell. But she did anyway.
“I have a gift for you,” I said, my voice softer.
“A gift?” she repeated, like the word didn’t belong to her language. “What does that even mean?”
I hated how foreign that sounded to her.
Not because she didn’t understand me, but because no one had ever made her feel like she deserved something.
Somethinggood.
No one ever took care of her. And I hated that more than the fact that no one ever took care of me.
Because she did.
In just a few months, she did more for me than anyone ever had. She made me laugh when I didn’t want to. Made me eat when I’d forgotten how. Let me into her space,her silence,and didn’t ask for anything in return.
She showed me what a home could feel like. And somewhere in all of it, she becamemine.
Even when I knew I shouldn’t let her. Even when I knew it was built on lies, I let myself believe it. And I got lost in it. Inher.
I smiled a little, despite everything. “It means a present. Something just... for you.”
I reached into my jacket pocket, fingertips grazing the cool fabric of the gloves I’d bought her.
Slowly, I pulled them out, letting them hang loosely in my hand.
I found them this morning, tucked in a quiet little boutique not far from where she had her morning run. They were plain, no flowers yet, nothing special. Just gloves. But I’d seen her earlier. A habit is a habit. I followed at a distance, watched her stop to buy those irises she always brings home, even for a few days. I knew where she’d go after. So I brought her coffee. Her favorite sandwich.
Then I saw the gloves.
They looked warm.Soft.
I thought maybe it was fitting. That maybe they could be something good. Somethingsimple.
I asked the woman at the shop, an older lady, with a kind voice, if she could add something to them. A detail. Purple irises.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, she’ll understand why I got them.
