The Gypsy At Sunrise

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 3 (v.1) - This Can't be Happening

Submitted: May 02, 2011

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A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 02, 2011

A A A

A A A

Chapter 3:

This Can’t be Happening

District 17, Halayeb, June 2011

“What are you talking about Joey? Did Aro finally find out what Timbo means?” I asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go!” he said as he pulled me onward. Azra put an arm around my shoulders, making me blush, and pushed me forward. I could feel his stare burning on the side of my face, and my heart quickened. I looked up at him and half-smiled.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied. I turned and we walked into the meeting room, which is really a small kitchen with a couch and some chairs around here and there. All the twenty ripped men huddled together, while Tore, the man who, other than Azra, raised me, placed me on his lap. This left Azra with a pout—he and Tore used to argue for hours when I was younger in who should feed me, bathe me or clothe me. Now, they argue who I should sit beside, or sit on top of. I am not a rag doll to be passed around. But I giggle anyway, despite my pride. It is really hard being the only girl, other than Tasha, Aro’s girlfriend, in a rebel group. I inwardly sighed.

The thing is, I secretly wish to be in Azra’s lap, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. The very few times that I was on Azra’s lap, I felt really tingly. Shit, I hope this stops—I don’t want to be thinking of my best friend like that.

Everyone looked cheerful as they looked up to Aro. He smiled proudly of himself and told everyone the plan.

“Hey everyone, I have some good news. We know what ‘Timbo’ means!” he started. Everyone blasted in wolf howls and smacked each other’s backs, hugging. Except Azra—he just stood at the corner, completely still, staring off into space. I, on the other hand, sat on Tore’s lap, impatiently waiting for Aro to continue.

“Okay, what does it mean and how do we get to the vantage point?” I asked. Everyone shot a glare at me for ruining a great moment. I rolled my eyes, and gestured Aro to continue.

“Okay Miss Cranky, here it is. Timbo is key password often used in ancient relics here in Egypt. It symbolizes spirals—my guess is a spiral stair case. The government rebels have recently built a tunnel underground, and I thought that they were going to attack from underneath. But after our encounter this morning, I went to their main camp alone and sought out a blue-print. It was staircase underneath to a cockpit. It’s called the Timbo. I put the blueprint back though—so they don’t notice anything suspicious.” So it wasn’t at all mountains like we thought it was. It was underground.

“That’s great! When do we leave?” I asked.

“Right after dinner tomorrow—we’ll attack at night.”

---

I was putting on my gear, placing my knife in the hook of my boot strap, slung a gun over my shoulder and out some Ammo in my bag. I was about to paint my face with black marks when a warm hand took my own. I gasped, prepared to take the knife from my boots, but the hand took that too. I followed his muscular arms, to his chest, to his shoulders and met blue eyes under the moonlight. The very same eyes I met almost eight years ago.

“Azra?” I asked. He simply nodded and took the black paint from my hand.

“Let me paint you,” he said, not asking for permission. I simply let him work his magic. When his fingers touched my skin, it went sparking with electricity and my breath caught short. His fingers were almost done as they made their way to my lips. He stared at them for a long time and the snapped to my eyes. I realized that I was staring at his soft lips as well.

“You know, I wanted you on my lap,” he said huskily. I blinked, my face totally flushed and then his yes went to my lips again.

“Y—yeah?” I stuttered.

“Yeah,” he answered before meeting my lips. His met mine eagerly with so much passion and love. He kissed me like he this was the last day he had with me…and frankly I thought the same thing. I kissed him back, circling his neck with my arms, as he pulled my waist towards his. He bent me down as he kissed me, our tongues dancing in perfect synchronization. I never, ever want to lose him. At all. He was my mine—my best friend. Then it hit me, I was kissing my older, and very attractive, best friend. I pulled away, breathless, but his lips never left my skin. He kissed my chin, along my jaw to my earlobe and nibbled. I held my breath, my heart beating like helicopter wings. He explored my neck, nibbling and biting hard on to my soft skin.

“A-Azra, mmm, w-wwhat are we doing?” I asked, breathless, gasping between my words.

“W-hat does it look like we’re doing; we’re kissing,” he said, breathless as well. I rolled my eyes, despite what his words made me feel.

“We should stop—you’re older than me by four years Az…” I trailed, feeling his tongue licking his love bite.

“I don’t care, and I don’t want to stop…” he said, shaking his head in the crook on my neck.

“Please the others are going to come…” I said. He met my eyes, laying his forehead on mine.

“Just one more kiss Ells. I’ve being dreaming about kissing you ever since last year…” he trailed off. I looked at him confused, but his lips attacked mine again. This time, it was rougher, but soft at the same time. Then we heard a throat clearing from behind Azra. He let go of me immediately, placing me on the ground steadily. It was Tore, with an amused look.

“Well, well…life is full of surprises, isn’t it? I’m guessing you want Ella on your lap permanently from now on?” he asked Azra. Azra blushed, but snorted as well.

“You bet old man, she’s mine. She always was and always will,” he said, his eyes growing soft when looked at me. I blushed and looked down, completely embarrassed that Tore of all people caught us kissing. Then thunder roared through the skies and the rain covered every inch of Halayeb. Well, this is definitely not good. The rain would fill the cockpit. I turned around, and picked up my bag.

“Let’s go.”

---

Aro, Azra, Luke, Morris, and I made our ways to one end of the Timbo, while the other groups came from other sides of the forest to ambush the guards. We were the Alpha group, and what we say goes. Azra was behind me, protecting my back, and I his. We worked like this, having each other’s back; it was like, we were made to be like this. To be a team, I mean. He winked at me and licked his lips, indicating the love bite on my neck. I blushed furiously, and hid it under my hair. I stuck my tongue at him and turned away, focusing on the task at hand. We came into the camps, slitting some throats effortlessly. We won’t use our guns now; it will bring about noise and the enemy will awake.

Then there was a single gunshot from the other side of the Timbo, and it was followed by another and an alarm siren.

“Oh shit!” yelled Luke. I covered his mouth with my hand, and watched Aro speak into his old radio. He turned around to the rest of us, completely pissed.

“Joey made a bad move by struggling with the enemy. Then someone shot him. Come on, let’s go!” I felt my eyes tear up. Joey, was so small…did he deserve to die? No…Why would Aro make him come!

“You let him come!” I yelled.

“We needed more recruits and he volunteered; it was his decision,” Aro replied smoothly. Azra tensed behind me, obviously pissed with his older brother. Was Az right? About what he said yesterday?

“And you let him! He was only a child!”

“So were you! Now, come on.” I just stood there, not able to move. Azra was right. He was right all along. I was only a child…so was Joey, so were the children from enemy lines. What gave Aro the right!

“How could you?”

“What!” he asked impatiently.

“How could you let children fight?” He glared and slapped my face.

“You bitch, I saved your life. I let them fight because they are easy to fool. Now stop being stupid and come!”

“Don’t speak to her like that!” yelled Azra.

“Or what are you going to do little brother? Are you in love with her! Did you forget who took care of you unfaithful shit! Come, what are you going to do? Shoot me! I dare you! Shoot me! You bastard! You actually think that my dad’s your dad? NO! Mom told me before she died what a slut? Like Ella eh?” Azra looked like he had enough! He was shaking so bad that I was afraid that he was going to explode. He raised his gun at pointed at Aro. Luke and Morris took steps back as Aro laughed. But it stopped as a perfect bullet whole went through his head. But it wasn’t Azra’s; it was someone else’s. It belonged to a man in the darkest shadows, who emerged forth, pointing a gun at me. He shot the bullet, but it didn’t strike me. I took shelter in Azra’s chest.

Morris and Luke, shot at the man, and his limp body fell on the floor.

“AZRA!” I shrieked. I knelt down beside him and put a dry cloth over his wound. With my other hand I caressed his beautiful face. Tears were falling from my eyes—I haven’t cried like this since my family died. Now I was losing my best friend.

“Don’t cry, love,” he told me gasping, trying to comfort me.

“Shhh…it’s going to be okay Az.” I said, pressing lightly on his wound. Morris came over and gave him morphine, while Luke kept watch. I kissed Azra cheek and lips, whispering sweet nothings and apologies for not believing him in the first place.

He stopped me, his hand caressing my cheek.

“It’s okay Ella. It’s not your fault sweetheart. I-I love you,” he said. My heart stopped and it shattered. I cried and couldn’t stop. He wiped my tears and kissed my lips.

“I love you too Azra…” kissing him back. I turned back to look at Morris, unwillingly.

“Is he going to okay?” I asked our medic.

“Let’s hope so. The bullet didn’t past the heart, but it looks like it pierced through an artery. That’s why it bleeding a lot.” Oh God! This can’t be happening! Not again!

Just before I went into to panic mode, a group of men bursts through the tent, pushing past Luke. At first I thought it was the Muslims, but they looked American. One of them didn’t wear an army uniform from what I can see—he looked like he was in his forties. They came rushing in and took Azra, our intertwined hands became undone. The man came toward me and helped me up.

“You are the first girl-fighter I’ve seen in this war. Are you okay?” he asked in English. I nodded—my father taught me English, when I was young and I still remembered. I have an accent though.

“Good, you’re coming with me to New York. Oh, I am Dr. David Richards by the way, and yours?” This definitely can’t be happening.

“Ella. Gabriella Massri James.” It just can’t be.


© Copyright 2018 Lucy Sahara xoxoxo. All rights reserved.

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