Ibrahim's authoritative tone cut through the air, "Ava, there's no time to waste. We need to reach the hotel soon. Guests are waiting."
Ava sighed. She had no other ways now. She cursed under her breathe, infront of him she always had to surrender, "Fine."
"Turn around," Ibrahim instructed. Ava complied and her internal conflict was palpable. The faint sound of her hesitant gulp underscored the room's charged ambiance. Her open back was inviting his gaze.
"Why are you trembling so much?" Ibrahim inquired, noticing Ava's physical reaction.
Ava was taken aback by his question, "I just... I don't like your touch."
Despite her discomfort, Ibrahim continued his task. As he freed the last strands, a subtle smirk played on his lips.
He willingly traced his fingers along the contours of her back. His fingertips danced delicately along Ava's spine. Closing her eyes in response to the sensations, she involuntarily stopped her breath.
His fingertips were cool like a gentle breeze on a winter night. As his fingers worked their way up and down, Ava felt a gentle ebb and flow of emotions. Up and down, his fingers moved like a silent melody. Each touch sent shivers through Ava.
She clenched her fists and questioned herself why Ibrahim was doing that. Ava struggled to contain the emotions that his touch stirred within her. She felt a conflicting blend of irritation, discomfort, and an undeniable awareness of his presence.
"Why don't you like this touch, Baby Girl?" Ibrahim inquired.
But Ava's voice betrayed a hint of frustration, replied, "Don't cross limits, Mr. Ibrahim. I haven't forgotten last night when you had forced to agree for the party."
Ibrahim, seemingly unfazed by her warning, completed his task by closing the chain. Ava turned to face him, ready to express her discontent, but before she could speak, Ibrahim interjected, "You look mesmerizing, Ava."
As Ibrahim's compliment left his lips, Ava couldn't help but feel a warm flush spread across her cheeks. Blushing, she tried to divert her attention, her eyes now fixed on the intricacies of the room.
"Aren't we getting late now?" Ava inquired.
Ibrahim has stepped back now, "Let me just wear my suit." Already dressed in a white shirt and black pants, he opened the closet and retrieved a distinctive black suit with intricate patterns. He donned the suit, it seemed tailor-made for him. The suit increased his confident aura more. He always looked handsome in every suits.
Ava looked at him for a moment. He was infront of mirror. She unintentionally captivated by the sight, found herself gazing at Ibrahim. The suit seemed like a second skin. The muscles of his hand hid under the clothe.
But Ava quickly averted her eyes. Why was she scrutinizing him so closely? On the other hand, she could still felt his touch on her back. She didn't know why but everytime Ibrahim touched her, the sensation.... didn't left quickly.
Once Ibrahim finished combing his hair, he stood before Ava and declared, "We can go now."
....
The car pulled up in front of the grand hotel, The Opulent Haven." Ava's eyes widened at the sight of the media frenzy. Photographers and journalists surrounded the entrance, eager to capture every moment. She attended many parties but here she was main attraction.
On the other hand, Ibrahim was unfazed by the attention. He turned to Ava, "Don't worry. They'll just click pictures and ask a couple of questions."
Ibrahim stepped out from the car and came to Ava's side. He opened the car door, extending his hand to help Ava step out. His touch, a blend of courtesy and possessiveness, did not go unnoticed by the prying cameras. Ava was trying to maintain her composure. She emerged from the car, the train of her teal gown cascading elegantly.
Camera flashes illuminated the night, and reporters rushed forward, shouting questions. The media circus began.
Reporter 1: "Mr. Rahman, who is this lovely lady with you tonight?"
Ibrahim, with a charming smile, replied, "This is my wife, Ava Lim."
"Mrs. Lim, how does it feel to be Mrs. Rahman?"
"It's a new chapter, and I'm looking forward to it." Ava responded.
Ibrahim looked at her, she was not looking uncomfortable, infact she was more comfortable and composed than he thought.
The flashes continued as Ibrahim guided Ava through the entrance, the whispers and camera clicks fading behind them.
....
The moon hung high in the night sky as Aqil, tired but eager, approached his village. He had been away for weeks, working tirelessly in Kuala Lumpur as a freelancer, contributing to a better future for him and his wife, Nayla. The gravel crunched beneath his boots as he walked towards the modest house where Nayla eagerly awaited his return. Recently he worked as Elara's informant.
The warm glow of the village lanterns illuminated the surroundings. Aqil's heart raced with joy as he approached his home. The wooden door creaked open, and Nayla, with a radiant smile, stood in the doorway, "Aqil, you're finally here. I've missed you so much."
Aqil embraced Nayla, "I missed you, Nayla. How have you been?" His eyes were reflecting the joy of coming back to her.
With a glow on her face Nayla replied, "I've been good, Aqil. The baby and I are waiting for you."
Aqil, gently placing his hand on Nayla's belly, said, "How's our little explorer doing in there?" It was her 7th months.
Nayla, her eyes reflecting the shared excitement, replied, "Active as always. Wants to say hello to Baba (Father) , I guess."
After a tight embrace, they sat down for a home-cooked dinner.
"You're a magician in the kitchen, Nayla. I missed this taste," Aqil remarked, savoring the flavors.
Nayla responded with a playful smile, "Well, someone had to make sure you don't survive on instant noodles in the city."
As they enjoyed the meal, Aqil's thoughts shifted to their future. "Soon, I want us to be together, here," he said.
Nayla's eyes glowed with hope as she replied, "I'm looking forward to that day, Aqil. Our own little family in Kuala Lumpur."
After dinner, as Aqil helped Nayla tidy up.
"I'm saving up, Nayla. So that after some time, we can be together. Properly," Aqil shared.
Nayla looked at Aqil while washing the dishes, "You're doing so much for us, Aqil. I appreciate it more than words can express."
Their night continued outside, where they sat under the starlit sky. Aqil held Nayla close.
"I promise, we'll have more nights like these. Just us and our family," Aqil whispered softly.
Nayla responded, "Our love can conquer any distance or difficulty. I believe in us, Aqil."
...
Amidst the vibrant atmosphere of the party, Ava and Mia found a quiet corner, away from the swirling crowd. They clinked their glasses of apple juice in a gesture of camaraderie.
"Ava, do you like the party?" Mia asked.
Ava couldn't conceal her disdain, rolling her eyes subtly. "Absolutely not," she replied with a hint of sarcasm.
Mia chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, Ava, now that you're Mrs. Rahman, you should embrace the socialite life."
Sipping her apple juice, Ava smirked. "I was Ms. Lim before, and now I'm Mrs. Lim. I won't ever be part of those socialites who collect friends just to showcase their latest acquisitions of jewelry and dresses. I'm Ava, Ava Lim, I have my own class."
Mia appreciated Ava's straightforwardness. "You're really different, Ava. But hey, why don't you join my office? I need a trusted assistant, especially now that I'm pregnant. Can't handle too much pressure."
Ava was taken aback by the unexpected offer, raised an eyebrow. "Mia, you're a renowned architect in Kuala Lumpur, and I'm just a final year architecture student. How can I assist you?" Though joining Mia's office was not a bad idea.
Mia grabbed Ava's hand reassuringly. "No worries, dear. Where there's Mia, there's no tension. I'll guide you and help you along the way."
Taking another sip of her apple juice, Ava replied, "Okay, I'll think about that."
The music pulsed through the air as Ava excused herself from Mia, citing a visit to the washroom. Going through the lively crowd, she made her way through the elegant venue.
But while going, she accidentally bumped into a tall figure. And the stranger, holding a wine glass seemed momentarily startled as the equilibrium of the glass wavered dangerously. His wine glass tilted and the wine fell on the man's pristine white coat.