O
Odette
Guest
Original poster
Ella smiled slightly to herself; she didn't mind his nosiness, just found it rather amusing. No one in this world or her old one had ever taken an interest in her life, and now it seemed that Cameron was genuinely intrigued by the manner in which she led it. She knew it probably had something to do with the fact that she was very unconventional in the States, but she enjoyed his interest.
"I no want to marry," she confessed, "and what point of relation if no that?"
Why these words spilled out, Ysabella wasn't sure. She was always guarded about her life, and suddenly, just as quickly as he had gotten her speaking Mr. Ford had also weaselled his way into her trust. She felt compelled to offer him something back for his kindness however.
Cameron smirked. "Well, you can love someone without wanting to marry."
"But then it complicated," Ella responded, "where I from, you no touch before you marry. So what more to it to man than that?"
He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Well in America we do alot of things before thinking to get married. Moving in...sex...everything, practically. Don't need a shiny ring to prove how much you love someone, at least in my opinion."
After placing a new stack of freshly folded clothing into the basket, grabbing a few more of the garments as she spoke. "Things very different. You know where I'm from?" She didn't wait for him to answer, knowing that he didn't – even Miranda didn't know where her mysterious maid had originated from. "Little country... Yemen. By Saudi Arabia. So many men, not many women. It Islam state, so I wear this"-she gestured to her niqad-"but it so different from here. Like two world... you go, and you be surprised."
Cameron nodded. "Yemen is brutal. I couldn't...imagine what it'd be like over there, other than horrific."
"War bad... but it home for me. My heart there still." Despite what had occurred, she would always called Yemen home; the culture, even of the people... she truly did belong there.
"Would you ever go back?" he questioned softly.
The question caught her off a guard, and she bit her lip, pondering the question. "When old. Right now, I refugee... no money to go back."
Cameron nodded. "Well Mir should take good care of you."
Ella smiled, "she does." But the more she talked about it, the more than Ella missed home; as awful as that place was sometimes, it was still home for her... where every woman looked like she did, in hijabs and niqabs, even felt like she did.
"I know I never return," she told him a few seconds later.
"Good," Cameron murmured. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt over there."
Ysabella smiled but nodded; he had no idea what truly what await her at home. She was a single, vulnerable woman... no family, no husband... and thus a prime target for the older men there. As much as she felt a bond with the place, she knew she could never call it home again.
"I no want to marry," she confessed, "and what point of relation if no that?"
Why these words spilled out, Ysabella wasn't sure. She was always guarded about her life, and suddenly, just as quickly as he had gotten her speaking Mr. Ford had also weaselled his way into her trust. She felt compelled to offer him something back for his kindness however.
Cameron smirked. "Well, you can love someone without wanting to marry."
"But then it complicated," Ella responded, "where I from, you no touch before you marry. So what more to it to man than that?"
He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Well in America we do alot of things before thinking to get married. Moving in...sex...everything, practically. Don't need a shiny ring to prove how much you love someone, at least in my opinion."
After placing a new stack of freshly folded clothing into the basket, grabbing a few more of the garments as she spoke. "Things very different. You know where I'm from?" She didn't wait for him to answer, knowing that he didn't – even Miranda didn't know where her mysterious maid had originated from. "Little country... Yemen. By Saudi Arabia. So many men, not many women. It Islam state, so I wear this"-she gestured to her niqad-"but it so different from here. Like two world... you go, and you be surprised."
Cameron nodded. "Yemen is brutal. I couldn't...imagine what it'd be like over there, other than horrific."
"War bad... but it home for me. My heart there still." Despite what had occurred, she would always called Yemen home; the culture, even of the people... she truly did belong there.
"Would you ever go back?" he questioned softly.
The question caught her off a guard, and she bit her lip, pondering the question. "When old. Right now, I refugee... no money to go back."
Cameron nodded. "Well Mir should take good care of you."
Ella smiled, "she does." But the more she talked about it, the more than Ella missed home; as awful as that place was sometimes, it was still home for her... where every woman looked like she did, in hijabs and niqabs, even felt like she did.
"I know I never return," she told him a few seconds later.
"Good," Cameron murmured. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt over there."
Ysabella smiled but nodded; he had no idea what truly what await her at home. She was a single, vulnerable woman... no family, no husband... and thus a prime target for the older men there. As much as she felt a bond with the place, she knew she could never call it home again.