"Here. Take this-" Ziba handed him a lunchbox. "And this- and this...aaand this." More lunchboxes. "And this. But eat this one ONLY after you feel better, okay?"
"Okay." Gabriel replied, dumbfounded. "Th-thank you."
"Why are you thanking me so much??"
"Uhh...sorry?"
Ziba stared at him in bewilderment. Then composed herself. "Yeah, you're definitely not fully healed yet. I kinda liked how tsundere you were, you know?" She smiled.
"Sure. I'll become a tsundere again, after I get healed up." Gabriel tried to project some confidence into his reply, and it seemed to have made Ziba satisfied.
"Good boy." She replied. Seems like the other three women went outside to do something. They weren't home.
The knock on the door made Ziba turn away from him. Daevar's brain identified the style of the knocking- a weird, 7-knock rhythm- as his grandpa's. The faint cheery whistling he could hear outside his door confirmed that it was that creep indeed.
Ziba turned back to Daevar and told him, "Listen, I know your grandpa isn't the best person to talk to...especially about...you know.." her face slightly changed into a more serious look, "-but if you need any help, or heck- if you even wanna eat some yummy food, you can come see me, alright? There isn't practically anything in Karim anyways."
"Got it. Thank you."
"You know what, you have to come see me once a week at least. Friday mornings are reserved for us alone, got it??"
"Yeah. I got it."
"Okay. Good boy." she patted his head and went to open the door, beckoning Daevar to come with her.
She opened the door-and sure enough- his grandpa stood there. He looked exactly like how you'd expect a 173 year old in this world to look like.
His blue button down and black pants fit him perfectly, and he would have looked like a really handsome, rugged old man- if he had eyes, and not a few flower buds in place of each eye, resting in the middle of what looked like spiderwebs woven inside the eye socket. It looked like bugs caught inside a spider-web. But instead of bugs, they were the buds of - 'forty-column lilies, bro. Don't forget it.' as his grandpa usually said.
"Ah, Ziba!!" His grandpa grinned and walked towards Daevar instead. "You look as pretty as ever! :D" he made two finger guns at Daevar and posed like a cowboy shooting two revolvers.
"Uhh..I'm here, mister Bahram." Ziba raised her hand meekly.
"Oh fuck." Grandpa Bahram pouted. Then whacked his head a couple times, like he was trying to fix a broken TV. "Ah, yes!" He turned around and looked at Ziba. "Sorry. My eyes were mirrored by mistake. It's all fixed now...wait..no, Ziba did you always have that immaculate beard on you?"
"No, mister Bahram." She didn't look confused at all. This sort of thing happened a lot.
"Ah, fuck...." he whacked his head a few more times, and Daevar could hear metal clanging inside his head. "Oh, there we go! Ah yes! Ziba! You have no beard!! XD!! AWESOME! You look prettier without one :D"
"Thanks mister Bahram." She said in the most monotonous, unimpressed voice.
"Ah....yes...sorry." His grandpa's smile fell abruptly as he turned to Daevar. "Not appropriate...sorry, bro." he acted solemnly as he put his hand on Daevar's shoulder. He was about six inches taller than the body Gabriel was inhabiting. The man was definitely over six feet, and he smelled like axe body spray.
"It's okay."
"Okay. Let's go home." he put his arm around Daevar's shoulder and slowly walked both of them right into a wall.
"Fuck!" He yelled as his nose hit the wall. A couple of tears poured out of the corners of his 'eyes'. "Damn it, I swear to god I'm going to get a refund for this shit." One of the flower petals fell out of the glinting 'spiderweb' in his right eye. "Ah shit." Grandpa bent down with surprising agility, picked up the bud and practically smushed it back into his eye.
"Okay. None of you saw that." He exclaimed shrilly and almost ran out of the room in embarrassment, practically dragging Daevar with him.
"W-wait!!" Ziba yelled as his grandpa quickly shuffled out of Ziba's apartment.
"Yeah? What's up?" Grandpa Bahram looked back.
"Uhh..sorry..could you bring Daevar around every friday? I'd like to catch up with him."
"Sure. Friday mornings sound good for you both?"
"Yeah"
Daevar nodded yes.
"Okay. Every friday you're babysitting him, then. Deal." He gave her a thumbs up and she gave a thumbs up back, smiling a bit.
Daevar's grandpa took his arm off Daevar's shoulder and started walking ahead again.
Ziba winked at Daevar and waved him goodbye.
Daevar couldn't help but let his guard down just enough to make something resembling a smile and wave back at her.
She smiled back, went into her house, and closed the door.
Daevar turned ahead and shuffled quickly to catch up with his grandpa. His brain told him that despite Grandpa Bahram's brain damage, he was a decent guy, and was safe to hang out with.
"Damn..that's a lot of food she gave you." Bahram looked at the tiny mountain of lunchboxes Daevar was carrying.
"Yeah." Gabriel remembered that she also packed grandpa's favourite food. "She's also got you some halva."
"Wait really?" Grandpa Bahram stopped right in his tracks and walked towards Daevar. "Lemme see...oh fuck you're right!" he gingerly took the lunchbox with the halva in it, opened it and took a whiff. "Shit, it's even got saffron and pistachios! God bless her!" he resumed walking towards the elevator, slightly giddy this time. "Hehehehe.... (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)"
He put his hand inside and took a slice of halva as soon as they got into the elevator and it closed shut. Without hesitation, he placed the halva close to Daevar's mouth, trying to feed him. "Say aah."
"Um, no thanks." Gabriel replied. "The doctor said-"
"What?!" Bahram looked at Gabriel in shock. "Are you really not going to eat a slice of halva RIGHT in front of you?? What kind of Persian are you?"
Daevar sighed and opened his mouth and accepted the halva.
The sweet, sticky food's flavour exploded in Daevar's mouth. Chewing it alone was so....satisfying. He couldn't explain why, but its texture was incredibly weird, thankfully in a good way. Like sticky rubber. Gabriel had never had anything like this. Neither had he ever tasted saffron.
Bahram chuckled. "Pretty fucking good, eh?"
"Yeah..heh." Daevar smiled without even realizing it. "Pretty fucking good."
"Oi. No fucking swearing." Bahram joked and playfully swatted Daevar's head.
"Oh, fuck off." Daevar grinned.
The elevator doors dinged open and they walked towards his grandpa's old pickup truck.
"You seem to be doing good.. I was honestly pretty concerned-well, as much as I can be- about how you'd be faring."
"Yeah." Gabriel replied. "I'm...." his brain raced, trying to find a way to make a believable lie.
"Tell him you're not giving up or something." Logical Gabriel helped him out. "Good Gabriel helped me out."
Good Gabriel gave a double thumbs up in the background of Daevar's mind.
"I'm not going to give up, no matter what." Gabriel lied. He decided to ignore the uncomfortable throb in his chest. "At least my sister and mother are in-" he genuinely choked up.
'What the fuuuck?' Gabriel thought, genuinely confused as tears started flowing out of his eyes. 'I'm not even sad, what's going on??'
'You're in Daevar, dude.' Logical Gabriel replied. 'I'm guessing you're not in COMPLETE control over this body.'
His grandpa put his arm gently around Daevar's shoulder and just stood there. Near the door to the building that led outside.
They just stood there in silence as Daevar's body decided that it was done violently spewing negative emotions.
After his grandpa heard Daevar's sniffles quiet down, he slowly led them outside the building.
As the doors opened to the outside, towards a lonely road leading towards the desert and a pickup truck parked on the sand nearby, Gabriel was hit with a blast of warm air. It was uncomfortably hot, thanks to Helios riding his chariot above their heads. Gabriel made a mental note to tell Helios that the headlights he's attached to his vehicle was probably illegal. The glare it gave off was so bright that it made Gabriel squint really hard.
As they got into the pickup truck, and tried their best to bear the intense heat of the black car seats, Grandpa Bahram cranked up the AC and veered off the road at a sharp 45-degree angle. They were going through the desert, to Karim. The isolated village.