She watched him as she dried her hair wondering where he had drifted off to in his mind. He had been rubbing at his arm barely realising that he had lifted up his long grey sleeves allowing her a rare glimpse of what lay beneath. His arms, like his face and neck were dotted with thousands of light brown freckles but between them- sticking out as if they had never belonged- were light red, raised bumps along all of the exposed skin.

She put down her towel, padding over softly to his mattress before she sat down beside him with her arm hovering in the air between them. She took a breath, dropping her hand to rest on his arms. "What are these?" She asked, running over the slight raised bumps with the tip of her index finger.

He blinked, having been wrenched out of a memory that he hadn't realised he had lost himself in till he looked down at her smooth brown hands touching his own. "They're..."

She looked up at him, waiting for him to reply.

"They're cigarette burns." His voice sounded hoarse as he said the words he had never uttered before.

"How many of them are there?"

"I've never counted."

"And how far up do they go?" She looked down at his arm, asking silently for permission to lift his sleeves. He stretched his arm towards her, watching as she cautiously folded the sleeve of his shirt up his thick arm mesmerised at her slow, deliberate movements.

"Right till the top." He answered highly aware of his nerves vibrating within every inch of his arm.

She looked down, tracing each bump and light white line that had scabbed and healed over years ago. "Did they never fade away?" She thought of the bruises and bites on her body that had finally faded away.

"They were too deep to fade." He looked at the little circles that had grown with him as he grew from a boy into an adult. They had been dotting his arm since his arm was thin enough to be held in his father's grasp and yet they had never seemed to want to leave him. They had stayed as sniggering parasites, reminding him of a time long ago that he would never forget no matter how far he tried to go. It would be with him for all his life as a reminder that his father was always bigger than him and that he was always too small for his father- that was how it was and how it always would be.

It would never change, nor would it transform nor surrender to a different belief.

He would always be too small...

"I'm sorry..." she breathed out, lifting his hand slowly to brush the lightest of kisses onto his knuckle.

I'm so sorry Riaz...

"What's your full name?" He asked staring up the flickering shadows on her bleak, beige ceiling. She always loved scented candles and the deep bursts of wild magnolia had somehow imbibed themselves within their skin. He always associated the scent to being with her and he associated it to their lonely nights when neither knew much else except to find comfort within the other. It spoke of slow, unhurried lovemaking and her soft chatter as they waited for the night to end and for sleep to find them.

"How do you know Leena isn't my full name?" She turned towards him, the pristine pink sheets stretching against her bare body allowing him to see every inch of what lie beneath.

"It's a nickname."

She looked at him, smiling at his perception. "Helena Marta DeWett."

"Helena Marta?" He replied, crooking her lips up at the thought of associating her name to her.

"My Ouma's the only one who actually calls me that." She turned to lay on her back losing her herself in the memories of warm days spent on their sunflower farm, running barefoot amidst the sprinklers. She remembered dashing gleefully away from the workers that had taken off to play with her as she lost herself amongst the tall flowers that surrounded her granny's property only to be found by Henry- her best friend.

"Where's she from?"

"Kroonstad."

He only nodded, shifting his arm when she made to rest against him.

"Where are you from?" She looked up at his face, surprised to see the way his had turned down at her question.

"Bloemfontein."

"Are you ever going back?" She ran her index finger over his bottom lip, trying to coax a smile out of him.

"No." His voice was so soft that had she not been lying right next to him, she would have never heard him.

"Not even for her?" She looked up at him curiously only to see a small shake of his head.

"Will you tell me about her?" She asked pressing her stomach against his side as she tucked her arm between them.

"Why?"

"Because," she caught her plump bottom lip between her teeth, saddened at the thought that he didn't even realise what that girl had meant to him, "you're kind and polite but I've only ever seen you happy when you're talking about her."

He looked down at her, wrapping his arm around her smooth back beneath the sheets. "What do you know about God?"

She looked up at his sudden change in subject but she didn't ask about it. "I know He's watching us and He has a plan for us."

"Do you like believing in God?"

"Yeah... I do. Whenever I go back home, my Dad takes me to the church the very next day." She sounded almost nostalgic when she thought about sitting in the pew next to her mother as they sang hymn after hymn. She never knew if she liked singing them in English or Afrikaans but they each sounded special all the same. "I miss going to the Church every Sunday."

"Why don't you go here?"

"Life gets in the way I guess. I wish I was back on the farm sometimes. I remember who I am when I'm back there." She sounded sad as she voiced the silent thoughts that had been hidden in her heart for more than 2 years.

"You don't forget who you are." He said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears. "There's just more people over here trying to tell you who you should be."

"Like Henry?" She thought about all the times he had asked her to change the colour of her nail polish or the times he had asked her to change her hair or the way she dresses and the times he kept questioning her faith in God.

"Ya."

"I wish women weren't so quick to give their hearts to selfish men." She said, unmindful of the quiet tears that had begun to run down her nose. "They never give it back to us once they've taken it away." Her words echoed memories of his own mother trying so hard to understand why her husband had never just loved her as she was. Why he had to change her, deform her, distort her into a shape he was happy with uncaring of the fact that he was killing her slowly but surely every single day.

He looked down at her when he heard quiet sniffs- he hadn't meant to upset her but she had to know that Henry was no good for her. "Hey," He shifted till he was able to press soft kisses to the side of her long, graceful neck. "I'm sorry." He whispered kissing her jaw before pushing her softly to lie on the mattress beneath them.

"Don't be." She smiled up at him, clutching his hand in her own as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips before reaching for the switch off the lamp beside them. The room was washed in soft candle light and the scent of wild magnolias as he ran his hand softly over the curves of her waist before settling on the soft, smooth flesh of her thigh.

"And if the candles go out?" He asked watching the small candles hesitantly.

"You aren't afraid of the dark are you?" She teased as she wrapped her arm around his frame to pull him just a little closer.

"No..." he whispered, closing his eyes as he kissed her once again till she had drifted off too far to question if he had been lying or not...

...

Tasneem looked into the mirror, breathing deeply at the idea of it. It had been almost 3 months since she had last looked at herself in the mirror and she had to know if they had truly faded away. She was standing in only a pair of beige bottoms with her hands held up to cover up her breasts. She could feel herself shaking within her body yet as she looked down at her arms they were still as stone. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself to move her arms- she couldn't do it. She looked at herself, turning to her side to look at her reflection. Though she wasn't pudgy, her stomach and thighs were rounded and shapely. Her skin beneath her top and pants was lighter than the skin on her arms but as she looked and turned to glance at her back- she couldn't feel it.

She couldn't look at herself believing that she was looking at her own reflection. Not once did she associate her mind and her life to the body standing before her looking back at her with dimples in her back and thighs that touched each other as she stood straight. She turned back to face herself, believing that she was in someone else's mind yet if that was true she would be able to look at herself- just lower her arms and look at herself. The light brown, soft skin of her breasts spilled out from beneath her palms but she was so sure she would still see a trace of him there. She would catch a glimpse of his teeth marks across her skin or she would find little red patches from when he pulled and twisted as he hurt her again...

She couldn't do it.

She turned around, closing her eyes as she grabbed at the towel on the railing before hurriedly covering herself up. She turned back towards the mirror only once her white towel had been tied securely around her body, tying her hair up in a tight bun before turning the knob of the cold water tap. She washed her face with cold water, rubbing her neck as she did so. Her muscles were sore- she never imagined when she had signed up for her chef's course that working in a kitchen would drain her but it was a good ache. She reached for her facewash with slippery hands before dropping it back onto the counter. Tasneem winced as all the bottled cluttered noisily after they were knocked over, mentally slapping herself for the extra work.

She righted the bottles slowly, musing at how much they had finally collected over the three months. When they had just moved, they had to resort to using a bar of soap to wash their hair but finally they were able to afford just a few items more. She had a few hand creams and a face wash and he was finally able to buy a can of shaving cream instead of making do with soap and ice for the razor-burn. She readjusted them as she went along but her hands completely froze when she came near a familiar tub...

Whenever she had stood near the sink, brushing her teeth or washing her hands, she never looked at it. Her eyes had always focused on the mirror before her or the tiles or the tap or the railing but she had forced herself never to look at the clear plastic tub with the dark blue lid. Looking at it- she hated it. She hated touching it and always kept her fingers as far away from it as possible yet there it lay mere millimetres away from her fingertips. Her heart shuddered in her chest and her throat felt tight at the idea of looking at it, touching it, screwing open the lid and smelling it.

It made her physically ill to think about touching the soft, clear contents within it. She hated it...

She hated how it always felt warm on his fingers after her had rubbed it on his palm to soften it...

She hated it.

She wanted to throw up at the idea of touching it but she couldn't just leave it.

It's only a tub.

It can't hurt you. It's only a tub.

It can't hurt you. It's only a tub.

It can't...

She picked up the tub with shaky fingers, holding it as if it would burn her as she stared at it in morbid fascination...

It was only a tub. He was gone and he would never use it to hurt her again. It was only a tub.

She held it closer to her, screwing open the lid as slowly as possible. She could smell it as soon as the lid was loosened and as she opened the lid, she could feel her fingers being coated with the bits left over on the side. She stared at her fingers, feeling her stomach churn at the shiny surface. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to purge herself of all the filth in her system. She wanted to...

He had already ripped open the condom wrapper as his fingers travelled down her stomach. It annoyed him that all his ministrations had done nothing to her body. His fingers emerged from the waistband of her panties before he lowered them slowly down her legs. She looked up at the ceiling blankly as if her mind had flown away into another time and another place...

He clicked his tongue before opening her draw to grab the tub of Vaseline he had left behind. He screwed open the lid, digging his fingers into the heavy jelly before he smoothed and softened it between his fingers. Only once it was warmed, did he nudge her thighs apart before reaching down between her legs...

When he next looked at his fingers, all that was left were tiny remnants of the Vaseline- it would just have to do...

She slammed the tub back onto the counter before turning around and walking back out...

...

He could hear her brushing her teeth as he packed away whatever files were still strewn about the floor. It was barely 9 but his eyes couldn't stay open and he was fighting a losing battle with sleep to stay awake. Their lampshade was already switched on- its low voltage bulb shone brightly enough from its place on the floor for him to make out the words but his eyes were too strained to continue. He stood up, removing his glasses before stretching out the kinks in his neck from hunching over.

He rubbed his hand tiredly over his face before unbuttoning his shirt to change...

He had only just removed it when a loud popping sound could be heard before the generator from the building next door was switched on and their flat descended into complete darkness.

He stood frozen, praying their lights would return. He could feel sweat run down the side of his face as his breath started to come out in uneasy gasps. "Tasneem..." He called for her softly.

"Tasneem." His lungs burnt with fear as he looked out the window seeing nothing but a black sky before him. "Tasn-"

"I'm right here." Her gentle voice echoed from behind him before he felt her fingers run down his wrist as she tried to find his hand in the dark. "Remember when we were in grade 12," She walked around him till she stood before him, joining both their hands together. "I told you that the darkness couldn't hurt you if you were the one controlling it."

He didn't say anything. He only allowed himself to feel her hands around his as his breaths refused to go into his lungs.

"Close your eyes..." She whispered, leaving his hand for only a moment before reaching up to cup her palm over his eyes. "See," He could hear the soft smile in her voice as she tried to soothe his nerves. "You're in control now. Nothing will hurt you." She gave his hands a gentle squeeze, gripping them tighter as she felt his knuckles tense beneath her palms.

She stepped forward, surprised to feel his bare skin brush against her shoulder before she inched back again.

There in the pitch black darkness

His eyes shot open as he felt cautious fingers run up the smooth surface of his arm- exploring him. Feeling him, feeling the ways he felt so different from her.

He couldn't see her

Her fingers glided slowly up his arm, over the hard muscles stretched over his shoulders...

She couldn't see him. She couldn't see anyone.

She heard his slight intake of air as her fingertips tickled the top of his chest. "I'm sorry." She removed her hand, "My fingers are always cold." He could hear her blow warm air onto the tips of her fingers, warming up her hands before he slowly gather her closed hand in his own. He bent down...

She could barely breathe

She felt his breath over her hands, intermingling with her own as he blew warm air into her cupped fists.

He could barely breathe

He held her hand, guiding it slowly over the hard skin over his chest, allowing her to feel every cut and line that had crisscrossed his skin since before he could remember. His lungs were expanding and contracting heavily beneath her fingers as they moved their hands further down, feeling the defined ridges across his stomach...

"Little bee..." His voice sounded odd to her ears as he raised her hand to brush a slow lingering kiss over her knuckles.

"Yeah?"

"The lights are back on." She looked up to see his lips curled to the side.

And just like that

The spell was over