Back to the present.
One week later
Abigail rested her head on Lucky's lap as they sat together on a plush couch in the dimly lit sitting room. The soft glow of the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the room, adding to the cozy ambiance. They engaged in casual conversation, enjoying each other's company in the quietude of the evening.
"Abi," Lucky's voice broke the peaceful silence, drawing her attention.
"Mm?" she responded, her tone soft and relaxed.
"In the next few weeks, I won't be around," he began, his words carrying a hint of seriousness. "I have some business to attend to, so I wanted to let you know in advance."
Abigail lifted her head slightly, curiosity piqued by his announcement. "Where are you going?" she inquired, her gaze searching his face for clues. "What kind of business do you need to settle?" Her questions tumbled out one after the other, reflecting her genuine interest in his affairs. "Will I be able to accompany you?" she added, her tone hopeful yet tinged with uncertainty.
"No, I'm not taking you with me," Lucky reiterated gently, his tone firm yet tinged with regret. "It's a personal matter, quite serious, but I promise to explain everything to you when I return."
Abigail's brows furrowed in concern, her lips pursed in frustration. "Seriously?" she exclaimed, a hint of disbelief coloring her voice. "What kind of personal matter is it that you can't share with me? And why can't I accompany you?" Her questions spilled out in rapid succession, fueled by a mixture of curiosity and a desire for inclusion.
Lucky's expression softened as he reached out to touch her hand, seeking to assuage her worries. "It's not that I don't trust you, Abi," he began, his voice gentle and reassuring. "It's just something I have to handle on my own. Please, bear with me and don't make things harder than they need to be. I promise to fill you in on all the details when I return."
Abigail sighed, her frustration evident as she leaned back against the cushions. "It'll be just me here, all alone," she murmured, her voice tinged with melancholy. "And it's going to be really boring. I won't even know when you'll be back."
"Please, Abi, just bear with me," Lucky implored, his gaze sincere as he met her eyes. "It won't take long before I return. And when I do, we'll have plenty of time to catch up and spend together." His words carried a note of reassurance, a promise of better days to come.
"Are you sure?" Abigail's voice wavered with uncertainty as she searched Lucky's eyes for reassurance.
"Yes, I'm really sure," Lucky replied with conviction, his gaze unwavering as he reached out to tenderly brush a stray lock of hair from her face. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, a silent promise of his return.
"I'm already missing you, even though you haven't gone yet," Abigail confessed, her tone laced with longing as she buried her face against his chest.
"I feel the same way," Lucky admitted softly, his arms enveloping her in a comforting embrace. "Just the thought of you not being by my side is enough to drive me insane," he confessed, his fingers trailing soothingly through her hair.
________________
In the serene ambiance of a house bathed in white, a figure cloaked in black sat at the piano, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys. The soft strains of music filled the air, weaving a delicate tapestry of melody that danced through the room.
Lost in the enchanting rhythm of his own creation, the pianist hummed softly along, his soul pouring into each note with a quiet intensity. Suddenly, a gentle hand ruffled his hair, drawing him momentarily from his reverie.
"I never knew you could play," Zhian remarked, his voice warm and filled with genuine surprise as he settled beside the pianist.
"I'm not really that good, I can just play a few songs," Ziyad admitted with a modest shrug, his fingers pausing momentarily over the keys.
"Do you want me to teach you?" Zhian offered, his eyes alight with enthusiasm as he continued to play with Ziyad's hair, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Yes, I would love you to," Ziyad replied eagerly, his gaze fixed on Zhian as he relinquished control of the piano. With a contented sigh, he leaned into Zhian's side, resting his head on his shoulder as he watched his companion's skilled fingers dance across the keys.
As Zhian played, Ziyad's mischievous nature surfaced, and with a playful gleam in his eyes, he began to trail his fingers along Zhian's hand, tracing a tantalizing path from his fingers to his neck. The unexpected touch elicited a smile from Zhian, a silent acknowledgment of their playful bond and the unspoken connection that existed between them.
"That tickles," Zhian chuckled, capturing Ziyad's hand in his own and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles before returning his focus to the piano. The music resumed, flowing seamlessly once more, but Ziyad wasn't finished with his playful antics. Leaning closer, he softly blew a gentle breeze into Zhian's ear, earning another smile from his companion.
"So itchy. What are you doing? What do you want?" Zhian murmured, his voice laced with amusement. He turned his head to rub his nose against Ziyad's, their faces close, his chin receiving a gentle scratch like a contented kitten. "Mm, what do you want?" he repeated, his tone tender.
Ziyad didn't reply with words. Instead, he rose from the piano bench and sauntered over to the couch. He picked up a bag of chips, settled into the cushions, and began munching contentedly. Zhian watched him with a fond smile, shaking his head in amusement at how childish ziyad's.
"I want some of that too," Zhian said, standing up and making his way over to Ziyad.
"Noo," Ziyad responded playfully, hugging the bag of chips to his chest.
"Why not?"
"Because it's mine," Ziyad insisted, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
"That's a lie, it's mine," Zhian countered, leaning in close, their faces mere inches apart.
"Hmm, it's not," Ziyad teased, a defiant smile tugging at his lips.
"Say that again."
"Noo."
"Are you sure?" Zhian asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. Without waiting for an answer, he cupped the back of Ziyad's head and pressed his lips against his. The kiss started gentle but quickly grew passionate. Zhian pulled Ziyad closer, deepening the kiss, nibbling and sucking on his tongue until Ziyad was breathless.
Ziyad's fingers clung to Zhian's shirt, the bag of chips forgotten as he melted into the kiss.
Breaking the kiss, Zhian gazed into Ziyad's eyes, a silent plea for more lingering on his lips. When Ziyad didn't protest, Zhian leaned in again, eager to continue their passionate exchange. But Ziyad gently held his jaw and pushed him back, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.
"I'm hungry," Ziyad declared with a playful grin, his fingers still lingering on Zhian's jaw. "I want noodles."
"Sure, I'm on it," Zhian replied, returning Ziyad's smile with one of his own. "Wait for me, it will be ready very soon." With a final peck on Ziyad's lips, Zhian reluctantly tore himself away and headed to the kitchen.
As Zhian busied himself with preparing the noodles, his thoughts couldn't help but drift back to the electrifying moment they had just shared. The taste of Ziyad's lips lingered on his own, fueling a hunger of a different kind. But for now, Zhian focused on the task at hand, eager to satisfy Ziyad's craving and share another intimate moment together over a steaming bowl of noodles.