The horses also sensed Ava's calm presence, allowed her to get closer. She ran her fingers through their manes, showing genuine affection. Ibrahim, leaning against a nearby stall, observed her with a warmth in his eyes. Her joy seemed to dissipate the weariness that clung to him. Fatigue seemed to dissipate as he witnessed her joy.
But Ibrahim's eyes caught the details of Ava's attire—a blue pair of jeans and a black shirt that seemed far too oversized on her slender frame.
"Ava!" he called out, drawing her attention.
Ava turned towards him with a questioning look. Ibrahim couldn't help but notice the shirt she was wearing. "Is that my shirt?" he inquired.
Caught off guard, Ava nervously stammered, "Y-yes, actually.....um, you burnt many of my clothes, and some were not washed, so I took this from your closet. I'll wash it tomorrow and put it back in the same place," she explained in a hurried manner.
Ibrahim approached her and gently took her hand, saying, "Breathe, baby girl, I didn't need the why. I just asked to be confirmed."
Ava exhaled, "Aren't you angry that I wore your shirt?" She was confused because many people didn't like the idea of sharing clothes.
Leading her towards the exit of the stable, Ibrahim replied, "It's a prize for me that you wore my shirt. I won't ever wash it."
They came into the the backyard and the darkness was softened by the gentle glow of moonlight. Ava saw their hands. Ibrahim was still holding her hands gently. She couldn't resist but asking, "Why?"
Ibrahim spoke while looking at her, "This shirt will carry your scent. Every time I wear it, it'll remind me of you."
Ava blushed, her unexpected response surprising even herself. She attempted to free her hand from Ibrahim's grip, but he playfully insisted, "I'll let you go once we reach our room. Until then, let's go hand in hand."
They strolled under the moonlit sky and Ibrahim held Ava's hand firmly. Their fingers intertwined, creating a subtle yet intimate connection that Ava found surprisingly comforting.
The lights from within the mansion and along the driveway created a warm ambiance, dispelling any trace of darkness. Ava couldn't help but steal glances at their joined fingers, realizing that the gesture felt remarkably peaceful, unlike the discomfort she might have expected.
Looking at Ibrahim's face, Ava silently questioned his intentions. Was he deliberately trying to make her fall in love with him? The thought lingered in her mind as they walked. If so, she admitted to herself that he was making progress, and she wouldn't resist much. Sighing, Ava quickly averted her gaze, looking ahead.
In the mansion's backyard, surrounded by a variety of flowers, Ibrahim's eyes fell upon a pristine white lily. With careful precision, he reached for the delicate blossom, plucking it from the plant. The air carried the sweet fragrance of the flower as he held it.
Stepping closer to Ava, Ibrahim studied her dark hair and decided on the perfect spot. With careful precision, he tucked the white lily into her bun, weaving it seamlessly into the strands. He marveled at the contrast between the pure white bloom and Ava's dark tresses.
On the other hand, Ava observed Ibrahim's every move, her curiosity evident in her eyes. The fragrance of the lily enveloped them, creating a moment suspended in time. As Ibrahim's fingers brushed against her hair, Ava felt an unexpected warmth. She couldn't deny a subtle flutter in her chest, a reaction she hadn't anticipated.
Ava gazed at Ibrahim as he adorned her hair. Why did his touch, which had once terrified her, now create a different kind of sensation? What was happening? Why did a simple gesture stir such emotions within her? Her heart betrayed her usual composure, and she found herself momentarily lost.
When the lily found its place in Ava's hair, Ibrahim met her gaze, "You know, you look beautiful with flowers in your hair. And your hair.....is like the night itself—dark and mysterious, yet captivating in its own way."
Ava attempted to mask her reactions, "Ibrahim, What are you doing? You're confusing me."
Furrowing his brow, Ibrahim feigned innocence, "Confusing you? How so?" In truth, he knew that Ava's feelings were evolving, but he enjoyed teasing her.
Without providing a direct answer, Ava suggested, "Let's go inside."
Ibrahim insisted, saying, "No, tell me first how I'm making you confused." He gently grabbed both Ava's hands. His fingers traced delicate patterns on her skin, a subtle caress that seemed to seep into Ava's very core. His touch was warm, almost comforting, yet filled with an unspoken intensity. Ava, feeling the gentle caress, couldn't help but acknowledge the growing connection between them.
Ava gulped, torn between expressing her growing feelings and her inner struggle to resist Ibrahim's advances. She wondered how she could admit that Ibrahim's closeness was affecting her. How could she admit that day by day, Ibrahim was breaking down the walls she had carefully built? She silently prayed for strength as Ibrahim encouraged her to speak.
"Say, baby girl," he urged.
The night seemed to hold its breath, anticipating Ava's response. She could feel the sincerity in Ibrahim's eyes, and a part of her longed to open up to him. Ava again prayed silently, "Oh God! Help me! Help me to keep distance from this man!"
Ibrahim gently shook her hands to answer his questions. Ava took a deep breath.
Changing the subject, Ava mentioned, "Didn't you say you'll help me with my syllabus?" It was a way to divert the conversation.
Sighing, Ibrahim agreed, "Let's go inside. I'll teach you after taking a shower." Ibrahim thought, it was not the time.....there was a long way to go.
...
The morning sun painted streaks of gold across the sky as Farah swung open the door to her shared apartment. What greeted her was not the usual calm before the storm of daily life but a lively chaos that seemed to have taken over. The familiar beats of music echoed through the space, and she was immediately hit with the scent of cleaning supplies mixed with the faint aroma of breakfast.
Noor was grooving to the music while expertly wielding a feather duster. Zebi, with her glasses perched on the edge of her nose, was engrossed in wiping down the kitchen counters. Mahi, her long braided hair swaying, was on a sweeping spree, sending dust bunnies scattering.
Farah couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected scene. "What in the world is happening here?" she exclaimed.
Noor looked up, grinning. "Good morning. We decided it's a cleaning and dancing kind of day."
Zebi added with a smirk, "And you just missed the dance-off. We were taking bets on who would win."
Farah shook her head in amusement. "Well, next time, save me a front-row seat. What brought on this cleaning frenzy?"
Mahi chimed in, "We figured it was time for a deep clean. Plus, we needed some music to make the chores bearable."
Farah joined the laughter, feeling grateful for the lively atmosphere. "Alright, count me in. Where do I start?"
Noor handed her a mop, saying, "You get the floors. We've got a bet to settle on who does it best."
Farah started mopping. But the banter continued. Zebi's eyes sparkled mischievously as she continued scrubbing the kitchen counter. "Farah, spill the beans. Where were you the last two days?"
Farah wrung out the mop and replied, "I stayed with Elara. Had a fever."
Noor, who was dusting nearby, couldn't resist teasing. "Fever, huh? Are you sure it wasn't just a 'love fever'?"
The room erupted in laughter as Farah rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! It was just a fever, and Elara was taking care of me. Nothing more."
Zebi chimed in, "Come on, Farah, don't be so secretive. We need details. What happened between you two during your little sick days rendezvous?"
Mahi, joining the teasing, added, "Did he cook for you? Did you have those romantic movie moments?"
Farah laughed, trying to deflect their curiosity. "Yes, yes. He cooked for me and took care of me like any good boyfriend would."
Mahi, who was now folding freshly washed laundry, joined in, "You missed our little dance party yesterday. We even had bets on what you and Elara were up to."
Farah sighed in mock exasperation. "I should have known you all wouldn't let me off the hook easily."
Zebi nudged her again, "Did he sweep you off your feet with his detective charm?"
Farah pretended to consider it, tapping her chin. "Well, there was one thrilling moment when he found my lost sock under the couch."
The room erupted in laughter, and Zebi mockingly swooned, "Oh, the romance! I can't handle it."
Their banter continued until the lively atmosphere was interrupted by someone's arrival. As she stood at the doorway, the group turned their attention towards her.
"Hello, guys," Jessica greeted.