In the large bed, Athan laid down sideways with his elbows propped, hands cupping his chin. His gaze had yet to avert from the peaceful countenance Mystique was in her bed.
'Look at this woman, only if she didn't have any crazy and heinous ideas, she would've been the fairest lady of them all,' he pondered while having a low chuckle.
He began to play with her hair by slipping them right between his fingers.
It has been a while since he never felt so good with how his body coped up—far better than he was; a rejuvenated side of him bloomed so fresh.
There was no ounce of fatigue in him. The sore that once invaded his body, stacking tons of pain after another, vanished into thin air.
At the same time, his mind unwinded and steered clear from small nuisances.
'Has the curse lifted already?' The corner of his lips quirked up a tad bit from the glimmer of hope that he realized.
