Elara, dressed in a comfortable grey t-shirt and comfortable sweatpants, moved around the kitchen. The aroma of chicken soup wafted through the air. He glanced at the clock; it was past noon, and he hoped the warm soup would help Farah feel better. The sound of sizzling onions and the clinking of utensils echoed in the kitchen. Farah had fever last night so Elara told her to stay in his apartment. Farah had slept in Ava's room last night. Even till now she was sleeping.
As Elara stirred the pot, memories flooded back. He remembered the times when Ava used to appreciate his cooking. Now, the apartment felt emptier, but with Farah around, there was a newfound warmth.
Pouring the broth into a bowl, Elara thought about how his perception of Farah had shifted. What started as a sibling-like connection transformed into something deeper. Farah's infectious laughter and bubbly nature had broken down the walls he had unknowingly built around himself.
The chicken soup simmered and Elara reflected on the loneliness that settled in after Ava's marriage. Cooking had lost its appeal until Farah entered his life. Now, preparing a meal became a way to express his affection for her.
The realization hit Elara – he cared for Farah. He wanted to be more than just a protective figure; he wanted to be the one to make her smile, especially during times of illness. The newfound feelings were both comforting and unsettling, but Elara was willing to explore this uncharted territory. He was willing to be a good boyfriend for Farah.
Taking a deep breath, Elara ladled the chicken soup into a bowl. He placed it on a tray with a side of crackers and a glass of water. Determined to be a good boyfriend, Elara made his way to Ava's room, where Farah rested.
Opening the door, he found Farah curled up under the blankets. Her forehead revealed the lingering effects of the fever. Elara couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, even in the midst of illness, she looked serene. His concern deepened, and he approached quietly, not wanting to disturb her.
Placing the tray on the bedside table, Elara gently reached out and lightly brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch careful not to startle her.
"Farah," Elara called in a hushed tone, leaning closer to her ear. "It's time to wake up." He repeated her name a few times, hoping to rouse her from her slumber.
Farah stirred, her eyes fluttering as she gradually became aware of her surroundings. The room seemed a bit unfamiliar, and it took her a moment to register that she was in Ava's room. The events of the previous night slowly came back to her – the fever, Elara's concern, and the comforting presence that had lulled her to sleep. "Hmm? Elara?" she mumbled, her voice groggy.
Elara nodded, his concern evident. "Hey, it's time for some soup. I made chicken soup for you."
Farah sighed, still half-asleep. "Soup? What time is it?"
"It's afternoon. You've been asleep for quite a while," Elara replied.
Farah tried to sit up, and Elara helped fluff the pillows behind her. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"I wanted you to rest. But now it's time for some nourishment," he explained, offering a warm smile.
As Elara handed her the bowl of chicken soup, Farah took in the comforting aroma. "You made this for me?" she asked, a genuine smile forming on her face.
Elara nodded. "Of course. Now, have some. It'll make you feel better."
Farah took a spoonful of soup, savoring the flavors. "This is really good."
Elara grinned, "Glad you like it. But wait, there's more – you've got medicine to chase it down." He presented a small pillbox with a glass of water.
Farah pouted playfully, "Medicine too? Are you trying to play doctor, Elara?"
Elara winked, "Well, I might not have a medical degree, but I'm here to ensure you make a speedy recovery."
Farah chuckled and took the medicine, washing it down with a sip of water. "You're the best nurse a girl could ask for."
Elara leaned against the edge of the bed, a comforting presence. "Anything for you, Farah. Now, let's talk lunch. What do you feel like having?"
Farah contemplated, "Hmm, surprise me. But aren't you supposed to be at the police station today?"
Elara shook his head, "Took a day off for you."
Farah arched an eyebrow. "For me?"
Elara nodded. "I figured I'd rather spend the day taking care of a beautiful woman – who also happens to be a bit under the weather – than at the police station."
Farah couldn't help but blush at Elara's flirtatious comment. Elara said, "Now, rest up, and I'll whip up something delicious for lunch."
He headed to kitchen. Taking care of Farah felt natural, and he embraced the opportunity to show her that he was more than just a boyfriend – he was someone who genuinely cared.
Elara was in the midst of chopping vegetables when the doorbell rang. Intrigued, he wiped his hands, leaving the vegetables on the cutting board, and went to open the door.
Opening the door, he found Ibrahim standing there, an unwelcome guest dressed sharply in a suit. His hands casually tucked into his pockets. Elara eyed him suspiciously.
Elara's eyes scanned the area outside, searching for any sign of Ava. "Where's Ava?" Elara's direct question carried an undertone of resentment.
"I came alone," Ibrahim responded, his tone casual.
Elara, still guarding the entrance, questioned, "Why did you come alone, and more importantly, why did you come at all?"
"Let me in first," Ibrahim requested, trying to bypass Elara's protective stance.
Elara "Wait a minute." He closed the door, leaving Ibrahim on the other side. Ibrahim raised an eyebrow in surprise – Elara had just closed the door in his face.
Inside the apartment, Elara quickly moved toward Farah's resting place. Whatever business Ibrahim had, he didn't want Farah overhearing it. Plus, Elara was determined to keep his woman safe. Though Elara knew Ibrahim won't hurt Farah. But it was better to be safe.
After a moment, Elara opened the door again, allowing Ibrahim to enter. This time, Elara led Ibrahim towards the kitchen. But while going towards kitchen Ibrahim noticed the closed door of Ava's room.
"What was that about?" Ibrahim inquired, his gaze flickering towards the closed door.
"Nothing you need to know." Elara told and entered the kitchen.
"You don't have to hide the fact that Farah is here." Ibrahim commented. He took the water bottle from the refrigerator and drank it.
Elara shot him a sharp look, while cutting the vegetables. "It's none of your business. Why did you come here?" he retorted.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, Ibrahim crossed his arms. "I came to ask."
"Speak quickly then, because I'm not in the mood for your games." Elara paused in his chopping.
"Where does Ava usually shop?" Ibrahim asked.
Elara was surprised by the question. He retorted, "Why do you care? You've got more important things to worry about, don't you, Mr. Mafioso?"
Ibrahim hesitated for a moment before confessing, "I burnt Ava's clothes while ironing. Now she wants the same designs."
Elara burst into laughter, unable to fathom the idea. "You? Ironing? I never thought I'd see the day! I didn't know that's how mafia bosses roll. What's next, baking a cake for her?"
Amidst Elara's laughter, Ibrahim's stern expression remained unchanged. "Just tell me where she shops."
Between fits of laughter, Elara managed to say, "You're lucky she didn't burn you along with those clothes."
Ibrahim's patience waned. "Stop fooling around Elara."
Unable to contain his annoyance, Ibrahim snatched a water bottle from the kitchen counter and flung it at Elara. Swiftly, Elara caught the projectile mid-air, his laughter momentarily silenced.
Elara wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, come on, Ibrahim. She treats her wardrobe like a shrine. I don't know how you're surviving this marriage. I can imagine her wailing over a burnt blouse."
Ibrahim's eyes narrowed, his annoyance evident. "Just tell me the names."
Elara enjoyed dragging it out. "Oh, you're serious about this shopping spree, huh? Okay, there's Petaling Street, Jalan Masjid India, and don't forget about Central Market. Ava loves those places."
Ibrahim shot him a glare that could pierce steel, but Elara was unfazed. Ibrahim turned on his heel and headed for the main door.