It was too quiet in the room-so quiet that every beep, every hum of the machines, seemed to echo louder than it should. The room felt as though it was holding its breath, waiting for her to wake, waiting for something to shift, for a sign of life to return.
The pale blue walls doing little to soften the sharpness of the hospital's atmosphere. There, in the middle of it all, she lay still in her coma, her body motionless against the white sheets. The soft beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that filled the room. Rhythmic. Reminding anyone who entered that she was somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.
It's been a long time since she had lost consciousness. For now, Erum remained as she was-lost in her own mind, unaware of the world outside her hospital bed. Unaware of the visitors who had come, and left.
At this moment, a girl sat beside Erum's hospital bed, her fingers nervously tracing circles on her lap. The room had been so still, as if time itself had paused, waiting for something-anything-to change.
Then, it happened.
A slight twitch of Erum's finger.
Just a small movement.
But enough to send a ripple of emotion through the quiet room.
"Erum?" The girl's voice trembled slightly. It was Dua, one from among her three friends. Her eyes, tired from weeks of worry, widened as she leaned closer.
Erum's eyelids fluttered, her breathing growing deeper. The once-sterile hospital room now felt charged with anticipation. Dua's heart raced as she whispered again, "Erum, wake up."
Slowly, Erum opened her eyes, blinking against the harsh hospital lights that flooded her vision. Everything around her was a blur for some seconds.
"Erum!" Dua's voice was louder now, relief and disbelief flooding her tone. She couldn't believe it-Erum was really waking up. After so many weeks, months of waiting, she was finally coming back.
Erum squinted, her vision clearing to reveal Dua's familiar face. Confusion knitted her brow as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. "Where... am I?" Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. She looked around the room, at the hospital bed, at the machines monitoring her vitals.
"You're in the hospital," Dua said gently, her hand reaching out to touch Erum's arm. "You've been unconscious for, uh- But you're safe now."
Erum's gaze sharpened. Her mind felt foggy, but she could feel the rush of panic rising in her chest. "How did I get here? What happened?" Her voice wavered, a mix of confusion and urgency. She needed answers. Of course, she does.
Dua hesitated, her eyes filled with worry. "I'll tell you everything, but for now, you need to rest." Her tone was calm, but there was an underlying tension.
Rest? That was the last thing Erum wanted. (Traits of a Zamurd) Ignoring the exhaustion in her body, she tried to move. The IV needle tugged painfully at her arm as she pulled it out, swinging her legs off the side of the bed. But the moment her feet touched the cold floor, her knees buckled. Her legs wouldn't hold her.
"Erum, stop!" Dua rushed forward, trying to steady her, panic in her voice. "You need to be careful!"
"What's wrong with me?" Erum gasped, her voice trembling. Her legs, the ones that had carried her through so much, felt weak, foreign. Her body betrayed her. "Why can't I stand? Why am I here?"
Dua swallowed hard, trying to keep calm. "Please, Erum, just rest. Your body needs time. We will talk about everything later."
"No!" Erum's frustration flared. "Tell me now!" She shoved Dua's hand away, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. Her head suddenly throbbed, a sharp pain tearing through her skull. She winced, grabbing her head as a memory surged forward-disjointed but vivid.
She was on the road.
It was night.
Someone had injected something into her neck.
Her pulse raced as she recalled the bright flash of headlights, the screech of those heavy tires.
The sound of her heartbeat in her ears.
And then, her blood.
Warm, flowing.
Her vision blurred as the memory overwhelmed her.
Erum's head swam with the fragments of her memory.
The pain.
The lights.
The sense of impending doom.
But no matter how hard she tried to piece it together, it slipped away like sand through her fingers.
"Dua.." Erum spoke, her voice low, "I got hit by a truck?"
"...yes," Dua replied, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, "but look, you're back."
Erum froze at Dua's confirmation, her mind struggling to grasp the enormity of it all. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the hospital bed, her knuckles white as she tried to steady herself. The vivid flashes of memory and the sharp pain in her head left her reeling.
"I should be dead," Erum whispered, her voice hollow.
Dua looked away for a moment, biting her lip as if searching for the right words. "You almost were. The doctors... they didn't think you'd make it through the first night."
Erum's heart raced, the weight of those words settling on her chest like a heavy stone. "Then why am I still here?" she asked, her voice laced with both fear and confusion.
Dua hesitated, her eyes flickering with something Erum couldn't quite place. "It's a miracle, Erum. But there's more... more that you need to know."
Erum narrowed her eyes, her pulse quickening. "More?"
Dua nodded slowly, her gaze intense. "The accident wasn't just an accident."
Erum's body stiffened, a cold chill running down her spine. Her thoughts were a blur, but one thing was clear-this wasn't just about her being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"What do you mean?" Erum's voice was barely a whisper, but the weight of her question hung heavy in the air.
Dua took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto Erum's. "Someone did this to you on purpose, Erum. And... they're still out there."
Erum's breath caught in her throat. The memory of the needle in her neck came rushing back, clearer now-someone had attacked her before the crash. Someone had planned this.
"Who?" Erum demanded, her eyes wide with fear and anger. "Who did this?"
Dua shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. "We don't know. But we will find out." She paused, her voice softening. "You just need to focus on recovering. We'll handle the rest."
Erum's heart pounded, her mind swirling with questions and a gnawing sense of dread. She couldn't just sit here and wait. She needed answers.
And she needed to find whoever did this to her-before they found her again.
"I can't wait," Erum said, once again trying to get on her toes while Dua lunged forward for her safety.
"Erum, enough!" she demanded, barely trying to hide the concern.
"Just let me go!" Erum fought back. And that was when the door of the hospital room opened, revealing Jibran Ahmed, concern etched on his face. Just as he saw his daughter on the bed, he couldn't hold back his tears, he rushed towards Erum and held her in an embrace, tears of joy streaming down his eyes.
"O-oh my daughter. Oh my E-erum," he cried, Erum hadn't seen her father ever cry. But this made her calm a bit.
Erum stiffened for a moment in her father's embrace, caught off guard by the raw emotion in his voice. Jibran Ahmed, her strong, unwavering father, was crying-something she had never witnessed before. It was as if the sight of his vulnerability softened something deep within her, the storm of panic in her chest settling just slightly.
She let herself sink into his embrace, the warmth of his arms grounding her. Her heart, which had been racing moments ago, slowed as she listened to his shaky breaths, each one filled with relief.
"I thought I lost you," Jibran whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I prayed every day... but I didn't know if you'd come back."
Erum closed her eyes, her grip on his shirt tightening. For a moment, all the questions, the confusion, the anger-they all melted away in the presence of her father. The room felt quieter, more peaceful, as if time had paused just for this reunion.
"I'm here, Dad," Erum murmured, her voice softer now. "I'm still here."
Jibran pulled back slightly, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, though his eyes remained glassy with emotion. "You don't have to do anything right now, Erum. Just rest. We'll figure everything out together."
Erum's eyes darted from her father to Dua, who stood silently beside the bed, her own face pale from worry. Part of her wanted to trust their words, to let herself fall back into the safety of her family and friends, but another part of her-restless and defiant-kept gnawing at her.
She had almost died. Someone had tried to kill her. And whoever it was, they were still out there.
But for now, with her father's arms still wrapped around her, she allowed herself to feel safe. Just for a little longer.
"I'm sorry I scared you," Erum whispered, her throat tight.
Jibran shook his head, cupping her face with his hands. "You've nothing to be sorry for. You're a fighter, Erum. Always have been. And I'm so proud of you."
A small, fragile smile tugged at the corner of Erum's lips. "I'll get through this," she promised, more to herself than anyone else. "But I need answers, Dad."
Jibran nodded, his expression serious now. "And we'll get them. Together."
The door swung open again, revealing Enayat's breathless figure. The moment her eyes landed on Erum, nothing else mattered. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace.
"Don't you dare pull something like this on us again, please," Enayat's voice cracked, and a sob escaped her lips.
"Shh..." Erum gently patted Enayat's back, feeling the tremble in her friend's body. She could sense the fear and worry that had built up over the weeks. It made Erum's heart ache, but she had no words to comfort her friend-because she herself didn't know how to process everything that had happened.
"I'm sorry," Erum whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn't mean for any of this..."
Enayat pulled back just enough to look at Erum's face, her eyes red and swollen. "I don't care what happened, just... don't leave us like that again. We were terrified. I was terrified."
Erum could see the weight of those emotions in Enayat's eyes. The weight of her own survival felt heavier in that moment. She had almost left them all behind-without even realizing it.
"I'm still here," Erum said softly, trying to reassure her, but there was a tremor in her voice.
Enayat sniffled, wiping her tears quickly as if embarrassed by her outburst. "You better be," she said, forcing a weak smile. "You've got a lot to explain when you're ready."
Erum nodded slowly, feeling the gravity of that statement. There was so much she still didn't understand. So many pieces of the puzzle missing. And somewhere, out there, was the person responsible for it all.
As the room settled into a heavy silence, Erum's gaze shifted between her father, Dua, and Enayat. She knew she wasn't alone in this.
"Papa... when am I getting discharged?" Erum asked, her eyes resting on her father.
"We'll need to speak to the doctors," Jibran replied gently.
"Can they discharge me today?" she pressed.
"Today?" Jibran's brow furrowed. "Erum, you've just woken up. You still need time to heal."
"Dad... we both know we're different from other people. So why are you treating me like I'm the same?"
Jibran paused, her words sinking in. He hesitated, then sighed. "Alright... I'll talk to them."
"Thanks," Erum said, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Jibran smiled back, turning to leave the room and give her some space with her friends. As soon as the door clicked shut, Dua and Enayat pounced, firing off questions in a rapid barrage, their voices overlapping in a rain of concern and curiosity.
The chatter continued until Jibran returned with the doctor. As the door creaked open, the doctor's calm voice broke through the conversation.
"Welcome back, Ms. Jibran," he said with a warm smile.
Erum's eyes snapped toward him, her focus sharpening instantly.
The doctor stepped closer to Erum, his expression professional but kind. "Let's take a quick look, shall we?" he said, pulling out his stethoscope and beginning the usual checks-her pulse, breathing, and reflexes.
Erum sat still, impatience clear on her face, though she tried to hide it. She wanted out, not more examinations.
After a few minutes, the doctor straightened up and gave her a reassuring smile. "You're recovering well, Erum. But I'm afraid I can't discharge you today."
Erum's expression immediately fell. "But-"
The doctor raised his hand gently. "I understand you're feeling eager to leave, but you've been through something traumatic. Your body still needs time to adjust and heal properly. I think tomorrow would be more realistic."
"Tomorrow?" Erum's voice was filled with frustration.
Jibran placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "It's just one more day, Erum. Let them make sure everything's really alright before you leave."
Erum's jaw tightened, but she nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Tomorrow."
The doctor smiled, satisfied. "You'll be in much better shape by then, I promise." He turned to Jibran. "We'll have everything prepared for her discharge tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, doctor," Jibran said, relief clear in his voice.
As the doctor left the room, Jibran turned back to Erum. "Just one more day, beta. We'll get through this."
Erum sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "I guess I don't have much of a choice."
Dua and Enayat exchanged glances, relieved that she'd be out soon, but still concerned for her well-being.
Erum's mind already racing ahead to the moment she could finally leave the hospital and start figuring out what had really happened to her.
Just as Erum was about to lie back down, her gaze shifted to the calendar hanging on the wall.
At first, it seemed ordinary-a simple grid of dates-but something about it made her freeze. Her eyes locked on the month and year, her breath catching in her throat.
Her heart began to pound, each beat growing louder in her ears.
Two years.
Two entire years had passed since the night she was hit.
Her eyes widened in disbelief, her mind struggling to process the time she had lost. How could it be?
"Two years..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, a tremor running through her body.
Dua noticed the change in her, her expression turning to concern. "Erum? What's wrong?"
Erum didn't respond, her mind still reeling. Two years of her life-gone. Two years in a coma, while the world outside kept moving. Everyone had moved on, lived their lives, while she had been trapped in oblivion.
She turned to Jibran, her voice shaking. "Dad... why didn't you tell me?"
Jibran's face fell, guilt and sorrow etched into every line. "I... I didn't want to overwhelm you right away. You've been through so much already."
Erum's heart raced faster, her breath becoming shallow and erratic as the weight of those two lost years hit her like a crashing wave. Panic surged through her veins, her body trembling uncontrollably.
It was as if the realization had finally settled in, taking out her real reaction.
"No... no, no, no!" she stammered, her voice rising in hysteria. She tried to sit up again, but the dizziness overwhelmed her. "Two years?! How could I lose two years?!"
Jibran rushed to her side, gently holding her arms to steady her. "Erum, calm down, please. It's going to be alright."
But she wasn't listening. Her hands gripped the hospital sheets tightly, her knuckles turning white as her mind spun wildly, trying to fill the gaps of time she had no memory of.
"Everything's changed," she gasped, her eyes darting around the room as though searching for answers. "What did I miss? What happened in two years? How could no one tell me?!"
"Erum, please," Dua's voice was shaky, her own emotions surfacing as she saw her friend unravel. "You've just woken up. Your body is still healing. You need to take it slow."
But Erum's panic only grew. "Slow? Two years are gone, Dua! How can I take it slow? I don't even know what's happened. What's changed? What about-" Her voice caught as the thoughts raced faster than she could voice them.
Jibran's eyes filled with worry. "Erum, we'll tell you everything, but you need to breathe. We'll help you through this. Just breathe."
‐-----
"Alaikum wa Rahmatullah," they spoke to their right shoulders.
"Assalamu Alaikum wa Rahmatullah," to the left shoulder.
Both Erum and Enayat had just completed their Fajr prayer, the soft light of dawn beginning to creep through the hospital room window. For Erum, this prayer held a deeper meaning-it was the first time in two whole years she had observed a prayer. The feeling of being lost, of disconnection, weighed heavily on her heart, despite the peace she sought in her movements.
As Erum sat there, her hands still resting on her lap, the weight of time and uncertainty pressed on her chest. Sensing her discomfort, Enayat reached out and gently held her hand. "Make a dua," she whispered softly. "And then we'll go out for some fresh air."
Erum nodded quietly, raising her hands for dua. Her heart was heavy with unspoken thoughts, the restless sleep from the night before still fresh in her mind. Dua, Enayat, and her father had done everything they could to convince her not to worry about the time she had lost. But no matter how much they reassured her, the ache in her chest remained.
As she finished her supplication, lowering her hands, there was a brief moment of calm. She wrapped her prayer rug carefully, watching as Enayat did the same. With a soft smile, Enayat stood and nodded toward the door.
"Let's go," she said, her voice gentle yet encouraging.
They stepped out of the room and walked towards the lawn.
"So, Enayat, what all has happened?" Erum asked as they strolled through the hospital lawn, the sky still draped in darkness before dawn.
"Nothing much..." Enayat replied, struggling to dodge the question, though Erum didn't seem to notice her discomfort.
"Hm. What about Zoya?" Erum continued, hands tucked into the pockets of her abaya as they walked.
"I haven't told her that you've woken up yet," Enayat responded, her voice calming now that the first question had passed.
"Oh... okay."
"Erum, I've really missed you these past two years."
"..." Erum didn't responded. Not because she didn't know what to say, but because there was too much to say.
"Everyone missed you," Enayat added softly.
Everyone?
Really?
Did he missed her?
And.
Did he missed her?
Do they know that she is awake?
Out of coma?
Where are they?
Where is her stalker?
And.
Where is her enemy?
"I'm feeling thirsty," Erum said abruptly.
"Wait here. I'll get you some water," Enayat replied, heading towards the hospital.
Then, she turned her attention towards the sky, the faint glow of dawn was just beginning, though darkness still lingered. She wondered what had really happened in those two years she'd been unconscious. What had her father been doing? What about Dua? Zoya? What all has happened? And.. what has they been doing?
Her stalker? Who never really told her his name. Or showed his face. Who used to whistle a tune-one she could never quite place. A tune that was more than unique, etched into her memory.
And.
Her enemy? Whose motives she never really understood. Whose actions spoke an entirely different language from his words. Who used to leave her white roses, the tips dipped in a deep, dark green.
The difference between them was just a thing-a mask. Her stalker used mask but her enemy doesn't so she called the stalker Vielwalker and the enemy Vielbreaker.
She was lost in thought when she heard it.
A whistle.
That whistle.
A slow, haunting melody.
A forewarning of his presence.
The one she hadn't forgotten, even after two years in the hospital.
He was here.
Vielwalker was here.
She turned in the direction of the sound. And there he was. Like a shadow in the shadows. She knew him as well as she knew herself. He hadn't changed. Tall and broad-shouldered frame, quietly strong without needing to say a word. Hands in his pockets, hood drawn low, as always, hiding his features. Even if she managed to pull off the hood, the mask he wore would be another obstacle-one that is another barrier between her seeing his face.
She stared at him as he tilted his head. Such a small movement, yet it sent goosebumps down her spine. Maybe it was fear... or maybe... maybe... excitement.
"Good to see you again, Sevgilim."
Oh God. The way he said it-Sevgilim. Erum had always been that to him. Sevgilim. She froze, her body betraying a slight tremble. Her stalker needed to stop. She had just recovered.
"Looks like we can continue our little game."
Still, she didn't respond. Maybe she couldn't. And then, he moved.
Towards her.
No.
Please, no.
But yes.
The way he moved-almost calculated, like a predator stalking its prey, deliberate but never rushed. Indeed, he was stalking his prey, Sevgilim.
"Tell me, Sevgilim," he murmured, his voice dark, "who did you see while you were in the coma?"
Her throat tightened. Not a word would come.
"Answer."
"Vielbreaker," she finally breathed. It was Vielbreaker, her enemy.
Silence.
Her stalker said nothing, and that silence terrified her.
"You're pissing me off," he said, stepping closer, closing the distance without ever touching her. He towered over her, his presence looming.
Once again, silence. She could feel his anger simmering just beneath the surface. Her stalker hated Veilbreaker, he always had. And now, the name had slipped from her lips, cutting through the fragile tension like a blade.
"Veilbreaker..." he repeated softly, venom lacing his voice. "Of all people."
Erum stood frozen, every nerve on edge, waiting for his next move. But he didn't touch her. He never did. His presence alone was enough to unsettle her, to break her composure.
She was confused. What had happened to her? She had never been this vulnerable in front of her stalker before. Why now? Maybe because she had forgotten the way she used to hold her ground, how she used to answer him back. After sleeping for two years, her defiance had slipped away. She knew she had to be the way she once was-never bowing, strong, calm. But right now? Right now, it wasn't possible. Why?
"Why him?" His voice lowered, almost a whisper. "What makes him worth your thoughts while I'm the one who's always been here?"
Her heart pounded, the weight of his words pressing down on her. She opened her mouth, trying to summon the strength she once had, the defiance that had always been there before. But no answer came. She could only stand there, helpless, as he loomed over her. The distance between them felt suffocating, despite the space he maintained.
The old Erum would've met his words with calm strength, refusing to let him see her fear.
He tilted his head, studying her as if searching for something-an explanation, perhaps. A sign of the girl she once was. But he found none.
"I won't forget this, Sevgilim." His voice was cold now, his anger barely contained. He stepped back, retreating into the shadows as quietly as he had appeared, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.
Moments later, the sound of footsteps broke the silence-Enayat was returning. Erum's breath hitched as she turned to see her friend walking towards her, completely unaware of the danger that had just been there.
"I've got you some water," Enayat said, her tone cheerful, as if nothing had happened.
Erum took the glass, her hands still trembling slightly. She glanced back at the spot where her stalker had stood, but there was nothing. He was gone.
But she knew this wasn't over. It never was. And no matter how hard she tried, she wasn't sure she could be the same strong Erum he once knew. Or she once knew.
"You okay?" Erum was taken out of her thoughts with Enayat's delicate voice.
"Yeah, pretty much," she replied, trying to steady her voice. "When am I getting back?"
"Within some hours," Enayat replied, glancing at her. She knew something had shifted in Erum, but didn't push it.
Erum sipped the water, trying to focus on anything but the encounter that had just left her feeling unnerved.
The hospital lawn felt stifling now, the sun finally rising and casting soft light over the grass. The air was fresh, crisp even, yet it couldn't ease the sensation she felt and was still feeling-discomfort, settling deep within her bones.
She wanted to shake the uneasiness off, to forget his voice, the way he stood there, hidden yet omnipresent.
But it was impossible.
He has always been on her mind.
Like the mist in the morning, ever-present and impossible to shake, no matter how much the sun tried to burn it away.
She shifted on her foot, trying to appear relaxed for Enayat's sake, but her mind was miles away. No matter how much she tried to focus on the rising sun, on the faint sounds of life starting around her, it wasn't enough to push away the dread sitting heavy on her chest. (Come on Erum, be like old Erum!)
Despite everything, she knew that wherever she went, the shadow of her stalker was never away.
"Good," Erum muttered, trying to brush it off. But Enayat wasn't easily fooled. "I know something's bothering you, Erum. You've been... different since you woke up."
Erum paused, unsure how to respond. She didn't want to lie, but she couldn't explain what had just happened either. "It's just... everything. Two years is a long time."
Enayat nodded, sensing the reluctance in Erum's voice. "You'll be back home soon. Things will feel normal again."
But Erum doubted that. Nothing about her life had ever been "normal." Not with the stalker lurking, not with the enemy constantly confusing her. She felt a chill run down her spine, remembering the whistle, the way he'd towered over her without touching her.
She needed to prepare herself again, get back the strength she'd once had. Because this wasn't over. Never was.
"Yeah," Erum finally said, giving a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Maybe."
_____
Erum was standing near the window, gazing out at the fresh morning view. The sunlight bathed the hospital garden below, where trees swayed gently in the breeze, but her mind was elsewhere.
Just some hours and she will be back at home-a place she hadn't stepped foot in for two whole years. Two years spent in a coma, lost in time.
"Ms. Jibran, I have something to show you," the nurse said softly.
Erum turned away from the window, hesitating for a moment, before asking, "What is it?"
"Come with me." The nurse turned and walked out of the room, expecting Erum to follow. She took a breath, steadying herself, and slowly trailed behind.
"Since the day you were hospitalized, we've been receiving..." the nurse's voice trailed off as they stopped in front of a room. She glanced back at Erum, her expression unreadable.
"What?" Erum asked, a nervous edge creeping into her voice.Without answering, the nurse slowly opened the door.
And there they were...
White roses,
with their tips dipped in deep, dark green.
That deep, dark green.
Erum's breath caught in her throat. Her pulse quickened, the sight of those roses enough to make her chest tighten.
"720 flowers," the nurse said, her voice echoing in the silence.
Erum stood frozen.
Speechless.
Those flowers.
Those exactly similar flowers.
She knew exactly who they were from.
Her enemy.
Veilbreaker.
He hadn't forgotten her. Even while she slept, he had come for her, every day. Leaving these flowers as a reminder that she was still his obsession.
The goosebumps rose on her skin. The thought of Veilbreaker, of his presence so close to her, filled her with a strange mix of fear and dread.
"There were notes with each of them," the nurse continued. Erum turned her gaze to the nurse, her eyes reflecting the slightest tremor. "Don't worry, we haven't read any of them," the nurse reassured, though Erum couldn't care less if anyone had.
"You can go in if you'd like." With that, the nurse walked away, her footsteps fading down the hall.
Erum's gaze shifted back to the open doorway. She didn't wanted to step in but a small part of her wondered what has he written on the notes. She was hating that part for being curious. No wonder, she should hate it. She don't give a damn about anything he says but still curiosity got best out of her.
Reluctantly, she stepped into the room. The scent of the roses was still fresh, despite how long they'd been there. She wondered, while looking around, what has made these flowers to stay fresh from Day 1.
Then a thing caught her attention. The notes. There they were, those notes, with each flower. Despite the fact that she wanted to stay calm, a slight tremble betrayed her.
She walked towards one of the flower, and touched it.
They were same.
Just like those that he was used to give her before she got into the accident.
She picked up the note attached with that flower and opened it. It said:
"Running away from reality, Hayalim?"
An electric wave ran through her body.
Five words only.
But they felt as if falling directly from his mouth.
She felt as if Veilbreaker was here.
Looking at her.
But she knew, he wasn't.
And that was the moment she felt something on her right shoulder.
From the corner of her eye, she saw..
the deep, dark green tip of a white rose.
She froze.
Veilbreaker.
Was.
Here.
Behind her.
She quickly gained a bit of her composure and turned around.
And he was there.
Just some inches away.
Looking down at her.
With that white-green rose in his hand.
He hadn't also changed a bit. The same tall man, wearing his usual overcoat. And those black leather gloves, he never took off. She looked at his face. Each feature which was already printed in her mind was the same, those steel grey eyes, that small scar on his left eyebrow, that sharp jawline. Everything was same.
"Finally back, Hayalim?"
Hayalim This was what she was to Veilbreaker. Hayalim.
"Impressive. Though, I wish you would've slept for whole life."
And that was where she always gets confused. Veilbreaker is unpredictable. His actions and his words-two completely opposite things. His words show his hatred and how much he despised her but his actions, they were totally different to what he says.
She managed to raise an eyebrow. (Yes! Yes! Just like this! We cheer for you Erum!) Erum's eyes narrowed as she met his gaze. "You wish I'd stayed asleep? Maybe you're the one who's afraid of facing me awake."
His lips curled into a cold, twisted smile. "Brave words, Hayalim. But bravery and foolishness often walk hand in hand. Let's see if you can back them up."
He held out the white-green rose, its delicate petals contrasting sharply with his dark attire. Erum's gaze flickered to the rose and then back to him.
With a resolute expression, she took the flower from his hand and crushed it with a swift, deliberate motion.
The petals crumpled and fell to the floor, a vivid symbol of her defiance. He watched, his smile unwavering, as the remnants of the rose lay at their feet. "A fitting response," he remarked, his voice smooth but with an edge of amusement.
His gaze lingered on the crushed rose for a moment before he turned on his heel, his overcoat swirling around him.
Without another word, he walked out of the room, leaving Erum alone with the shattered remnants of the flower and the weight of his cryptic words hanging in the air.
Erum is getting back to her toes. She is standing on her ground. Just like she was used to. Old Erum is returning. But there's a long, long journey ahead. Of Veilbreaker & Veilwalker and of being Sevgilim & Hayalim.