17. Not enough

Amara opened her eyes again. She couldn't keep count of how many times she did already. The room was already dark and her eyes automatically directed to where the only light source was.

After having dinner with her neighbor, she went back and got scolded by Vida for leaving her to eat alone. She felt guilty that she finally realized what she had forgotten.

She could glimpse a few stars twinkling in the sky from her bed on her window. Yet even without thinking of anything, sleep eluded her. Was it because the lamp wasn't lit? She always sleeps with a dim light on, but Vida couldn't, therefore she didn't tell her.

She hated the dark even before the awful things happened to her. She couldn't explain why she always felt frightened being alone inside a dark room, as though something scary was lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce on her and end her life.

She was scared of the dark more than being alone. But that night, because Vida was with her, somehow, she could tolerate the dark.

Her gaze lowered and fell on the black-haired lady sleeping on the floor beside her bed. She got up and carefully pulled the blanket over Vida's shoulders, pausing midway as her eyes noticed the bandage she wore around her neck.

There was no blood or sign of any wound at all, it was as though the bandage was solely used to hide something. Her fingers twitched in curiosity, but when Vida grunted in her sleep, her thoughts were replaced by worry.

She seemed to be having a nightmare. She gently patted her arm before silently stepping out of the room.

She couldn't sleep anyway, so she'd rather go downstairs and put her mind to use. The mugs she wanted to gift to neighbors were almost down. Just a few finishing touches and it'd be good.

The blinds on the windows were drawn. It was a relief that she thought of grabbing the lamp and lighting it as soon as she closed the door of her room, else she'd be having a hard time climbing down.

Reaching the corner where the small table was, she carefully put the lamp down and searched for her paintbrush. She wanted to add a personal design to the mugs, but she couldn't think of anything that would look appealing and something that would suit him.

What about rabbit ears or a bunny face?

Amara imagined Azer drinking coffee using that mug and she burst out cackling. With his muscled arms and large hands, the mug will look awkwardly cute with him. Will he use it if she tries to make one?

She only made two mugs anyway, since there were only two of them in the bakery. Out of nowhere though, the image of the girl in yellow came to her mind again.

Amara shook her head after a few minutes. That lady was a customer, although she wondered why she and Azer were together. Did they always just let a customer enter their kitchen? Did Azer cook meals and eat with her in that place as well?

Was that dinner she shared with him, just a natural occurrence for him?

Unknowingly, her eyes moved towards the blinds, and she got lost in thoughts. The once unfamiliar heaviness she always felt in her chest had become just like a habit she got used to. It always felt that way whenever she thought of Azer with another woman.

She knew what was that feeling called, and it was crazy that she felt that way even though she didn't have the right. Who is she to him anyway? His neighbor?

Did neighbors almost hug each other and breathe right in their ears? But thinking about that, wasn't Azer the only one who always does that to her? He always closed the gap between them, inching on her closer and invading her personal space.

And how come she never complained, nor hated it once? She was always mesmerized by those grey eyes, and as though he knew that she couldn't look away from those orbs, he always made sure to lock gazes with her.

"What am I thinking…"

She scooped water and wet the brush before smudging the tip with the white paint. She skillfully painted the mug white and let it dry. She mixed white and a tiny amount of red to achieve a lighter color to use for the rabbit face's edges.

Adding two purple dots in the middle of the half-circle, finally, the first mug was finished. She let the paint dry and moved over to the next mug.

However, she was disturbed by a clatter that almost made her jump. Lifting her eyes, her gaze fell on the blinds. Behind the glass windows, there seemed to be someone making the noise.

Amara stood slowly and without any sound. Her eyes moved lower and between the gaps of the blinds and the concrete sill, she could see a shadow. Immediately, her mind was reminded of the shadow she saw inside Azer's room.

A thief?

Thud.

Amara jolted. Something struck the glass but she couldn't see. And she wasn't crazy enough to wait and see what would happen next. She quickly moved over to the table and blew the light out. The room fell into utter darkness.

As the small table was close to the stairs, she easily guided herself up with the help of the railings. She was already at three steps when she looked back and noticed that the shadow was gone. The noise disappeared as well.

Amara sighed in relief. Perhaps it wasn't a thief. Maybe just a passing drunk who just leaned in for rest in her windows.

However, she was proven wrong.

The sound of a broken glass could be heard outside. Her eyes widened and she hurriedly ran down the stairs again. Her windows were fine. She pulled the blinds up and saw the bakery's windows completely shattered.

Her eyes moved upwards automatically. From the light of the night sky, she saw the same shadow climbing the ledge and jumping inside the window.

'Azer!' She screamed in her head.

Without thinking at all, Amara ran out with only her indoor slippers while holding the unlit lamp. She leaped over the broken glasses and entered the bakery.

"Amara?!"

She jumped from the voice, but she sighed in relief when she saw him running to her in strides. His expression didn't look good at all. Did he get injured?

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

Amara stood frozen in her spot. What was she doing there? She was worried! Her hands gripped the arm of the lamp. With the sky as the only light source illuminating the street that slightly gave them light in the room, his figure looming over her was like a boogeyman ready to snatch her up from the floor.

However, her gaze simply trembled from the anger he saw in his eyes. His emotions looked intense, but why did she not cower? Why did she think that he wasn't mad because she trespassed inside his shop?

Why did she think that he was mad because he worried too much for her?

She opened her mouth to speak, "I-I'm fine. Moreover! Someone entered your room!"

She grabbed his arms and slightly shook them. Her eyes were filled with worry, searching all over his body, checking if he was injured.

But then suddenly, Azer held her face in place and looked at her intently. He pursed his lips, as though he was trying to suppress himself from shouting.

"What are you doing here, Amara? Why did you come? If you saw someone climb over my room, then that someone might have been dangerous. You should never come out in such situations."

She nodded, agreeing to his words. But her eyes remained focused and she answered firmly this time, "I was working when I noticed someone outside my window. I tried to ignore it but then I heard glass shattered so I peeked, when I saw the shadow enter your room, I ran out."

She bit her lips and slightly lowered her gaze, it landed on his lips instead which made her face flushed red. She silently prayed that the darkness would hide her blushing.

"You shouldn't do that," Azer answered. His hands loosened and he inched away, immediately turning his back to her.

Amara frowned, however, she replied, "I was worried."

His back paused. He slowly looked back and dropped his gaze at her. No matter how dark the room was, he could clearly see everything. From the flowery designs of her thin sleepwear that flows smoothly on her curves, her disheveled auburn hair and bashful face, to her small feet, wearing her worn-out slippers.

Azer inhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. His head was throbbing, as though a devil was hammering his brain trying to destroy his reasoning and completely wreck his sanity.

And the ember that ignited his subdued senses was stupidly standing in his front, unaware of his internal suffering.

His dinner wasn't enough. He wasn't satisfied. Even when he drank a whole gallon of water, his thirst wasn't quenched. The only thing that could give him fulfillment was those plump and soft lips, but even then, he wasn't sure if a mere taste would suffice.

He was almost certain it would never be enough.