Sanlang woke startled, his body drenched in sweat. His head throbbed as he tried to piece together the fragments of his memory. The last thing he remembered was Noor—standing under the moonlight, by the waterfall, her silk dress swaying like a ghostly wisp in the wind. Then… nothing.
Now, he was in his hotel room, tucked into bed like a helpless drunk.
He groaned, pressing his fingers to his temples as he sat up. "What the hell…?" His voice was hoarse, his throat dry.
A sharp knock at the door interrupted his disoriented thoughts.
Ms. Li walked in, holding a tablet in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. Her crisp white blouse and pencil skirt were as immaculate as ever, her sharp gaze scanning him with a mix of disapproval and amusement.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," she said dryly, placing the coffee on the nightstand. "Or should I say, Sleeping Beast? You look like something dragged in from a war zone."
Sanlang shot her a glare. "Not in the mood, Li."
"You're never in the mood," she countered, scrolling through her tablet. "But since I'm contractually obligated to care, let me ask—how's your head? Still attached?"
He ignored her sarcasm. "How did I get here?"
Ms. Li arched a brow. "Oh, you mean after you passed out like a damsel in distress?" She clicked her tongue. "Maya brought you back. Apparently, you fell asleep in her car, and she had to drag your dead weight all the way here. Quite the gentleman, I must say."
Sanlang's jaw tightened. "That's not what happened."
"Right, because the alternative is that you levitated here on sheer willpower," she quipped. "Or wait, did Ms. Noor carry you in her delicate arms? How romantic."
Sanlang's fingers curled into fists. Noor. He had seen her. Touched her. Or had he? The memories were slipping through his grasp like sand. Something wasn't right.
"Enough," he snapped. "Where's Maya?"
"Busy. Probably recovering from the trauma of hauling you around." Ms. Li took a sip of her coffee. "Want me to send her flowers? A medal, perhaps?"
Sanlang swung his legs over the bed, standing up with a frustrated sigh. "I need answers."
"Good luck with that," Ms. Li said, already turning on her heel. "In the meantime, try not to pass out in strange places again. It's getting embarrassing."
She left before he could retort. Sanlang exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He needed to find out what really happened last night. Because if there was one thing he was sure of—it wasn't Maya who had brought him back.
----------------
Sanlang stood at Noor's door, his breath uneven, his body tense. He had come here on impulse, driven by something primal, something beyond reason. Yet now, as she stood before him, her wet hair clinging to her skin, her gaze calm and unreadable, he found himself drowning in hesitation.
"You look exhausted," Noor said, her voice devoid of emotion. It wasn't concern—it was an observation, detached, clinical, as if she were studying a specimen under glass.
Sanlang let out a humorless chuckle, rubbing his face. "Yeah, well… it's been a long night."
Her lips curved slightly, but it wasn't a smile. "Then you should sleep."
Sleep? As if he could. As if the fire coursing through his veins would allow him even a moment of rest. Noor was standing right in front of him, so close he could reach out and touch her. But there was something in her eyes—something cold, distant.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to step back. "I just needed to see you."
Noor tilted her head slightly, watching him. "And now that you have?"
Now that he had? It was a good question. One he didn't have an answer for. He had thought seeing her would ease the ache inside him, but it only made it worse.
Noor sighed softly and leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. The dim light cast long shadows across her face, making her look almost unreal—an enigma wrapped in silk and secrets.
"You chase things you don't understand," she murmured. "You think if you run fast enough, push hard enough, the world will bend to your will. But some things aren't meant to be caught, Sanlang."
Sanlang tensed. "And you? You're one of those things?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned her gaze to the darkness outside, her expression unreadable. "Have you ever heard of the concept of self-destruction ?"
Sanlang frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Noor's fingers traced the edge of the doorframe absently. "It's fascinating, really. The way a person can become addicted to their own suffering. Some people aren't just afraid of love—they despise it. It threatens the control they've spent their entire lives cultivating. So, when love comes too close, they do everything in their power to destroy it… before it destroys them."
Sanlang felt a chill creep down his spine. "Are you talking about yourself?"
Noor let out a soft chuckle, but there was no humor in it. "I'm talking about people like us." She finally turned back to him, her gaze sharp. " It's a dance as old as time, isn't it?"
Sanlang clenched his jaw. "And what happens when I finally catch you?"
Noor's eyes darkened. "You won't."
The finality in her tone sent a fresh wave of frustration through him. He stepped forward, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin despite the cold. "You say that like it's a fact."
"It is." Noor's voice was quiet, but unwavering.
Sanlang's hand shot out, gripping the doorframe beside her. "Is this a game to you, Noor?"
Noor smiled then—a slow, knowing smile that sent a shiver down his spine. "Everything is a game, Sanlang. Some people play to win. Others play to survive. The real question is… which one are you?"
Sanlang stared at her, his breath shallow, his mind a storm of emotions he couldn't name. He wanted to shake her, to force her to drop the mask, to admit that she felt the same unbearable pull between them that he did. But Noor… Noor was an abyss. A beautiful, endless abyss that he was already falling into.
And she would never let him reach the bottom.
With a quiet sigh, Noor straightened and placed a hand on his chest—not to pull him closer, but to push him back. "Go to sleep, Sanlang," she murmured. "You won't find what you're looking for here."
Then, without another word, she closed the door.
Sanlang stood there for a long moment, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs, his fingers curled into fists.
Noor was wrong.
And he would prove her wrong.
---------
The morning light filtered through the curtains, but it did nothing to warm the cold emptiness inside Sanlang. He sat in the dimly lit hotel room, the memory of Noor's unreadable gaze haunting him like a ghost. She had slipped through his fingers once again, vanishing into the early hours before he could even make sense of the night before.
His phone buzzed on the table. He reached for it with little interest—until he saw the message.
Ms. Li: Madame Noor has left early this morning. Her flight has likely already taken off.
Sanlang's grip on the phone tightened.
Of course she had.
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He should have expected this. Noor always left before anyone could hold onto her. She was a mirage, appearing just long enough to make him believe he had found something real, only to disappear the moment he reached for her.
His fingers hovered over the screen. He wanted to call her, to demand answers. Why did you leave without telling me? Why do you keep running? Why do you look at me like I'm a stranger, when I know there's something between us?
But he didn't call.
Because he already knew what she would say.
" Some things aren't meant to be caught."
His jaw tightened as he stood up, pacing the room. He didn't believe that. Noor wasn't untouchable. She bled, she suffered, she felt—he had seen it in her eyes last night, in the way she stood in the rain, breaking apart in silence. She wasn't invincible. She just wanted everyone to believe she was.
And that frustrated him more than anything.
A knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts.
Ms. Li stepped inside, her usual composed expression in place. "Good morning, Mr. Sanlang. You look like hell."
Sanlang shot her a dry look. "That's your good morning greeting?"
She smirked. "Would you prefer I lie?"
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "What do you want, Li?"
She clicked her tablet on, scanning through her notes. "You have a full schedule today. Meetings, interviews, and a charity event this evening. Try to look alive, will you?"
Sanlang exhaled sharply. The last thing he wanted was to plaster on a fake smile and pretend like he wasn't unraveling inside. "What else?"
Ms. Li tapped a few more times before glancing at him. "Also, I assume you know that Madame Noor left this morning."
Sanlang's gaze flickered, but he didn't answer.
Ms. Li smirked. "That's a yes. I have to say, Mr. Sanlang, it's fascinating watching you—one of the most desired men in the world—get completely ignored by one woman."
His eyes darkened. "Careful, Li."
She raised a brow, unimpressed. "Oh, please. I've been working for you for six years. I know your moods better than you do." She crossed her arms. "But let's be real here—she's different, isn't she?"
Sanlang didn't respond.
Ms. Li sighed dramatically. "Alright, alright. I'll spare you the lecture. But just a piece of advice—if you want to catch her, you need to stop playing by her rules."
Sanlang's gaze snapped to her. "And what exactly do you suggest?"
She smirked. "Find out what she's running from. And then, make sure she has nowhere left to run."
Sanlang stared at her for a long moment, then let out a low chuckle.
For the first time that morning, he felt the fire return to his veins.
-------
Noor stood at the window, her fingers brushing the cool glass as she watched the dawn break across the horizon. She didn't sleep, not really. Her thoughts had been racing ever since she left , the fragments of her encounter with Sanlang still echoing in her mind.
She had felt his gaze on her all night, piercing and hungry. He thought he could unravel her, but what he didn't realize was that she had already woven herself into a web so intricate, so carefully designed, that no one could ever truly reach her. Not even him.
Noor closed her eyes for a moment, her chest tightening as the memories of their past collided with the present. The intimacy of their shared moments haunted her—his touch, his words, the fleeting warmth between them. But that warmth was a lie, just like everything else in her life. She had learned long ago not to trust it.
"It's not easy. It's terrifying. But you... you're worth every scar, every flame, every moment of pain....The risks, the pain, the uncertainty. But if it's you at the end of it all... then I'd walk through fire. Again.... And again.. and .....again.." she muttered under her breath.
She turned away from the window, her eyes scanning the room. The silence felt suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on her, trapping her in this perpetual cycle of pain and isolation. It had been years since she had allowed herself to feel anything remotely resembling vulnerability, but Sanlang had a way of stripping away her defenses, piece by piece.
"No. You're terrifying when you talk like this.Sanlang"
Her hand clenched into a fist, her nails biting into her palm. And it terrified her. Because once it shattered, there would be nothing left to protect her.
She walked over to the desk, grabbing the glass of water that had been left for her, and took a sip. The cool liquid did nothing to soothe the fire raging inside her. She could still feel his eyes on her, burning into her soul, stripping her bare with every glance.
" I ...I ..need to tell you something. Something I've been holding back for too long"
Noor set the glass down with a force that rattled the room.
She had sacrificed too much. She had built an empire from the ground up, raised children from nothing, and clawed her way to the top. She had seen too much, endured too much.
The thought lingered in her mind as she made her way to the door, her heart pounding in her chest.
Noor stepped out into the hall, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.
--------
Maya's thoughts returned to the day after the shoot. The rain had come suddenly, unexpected in its fury, and Noor, ever the enigma, had slipped away from the hotel, choosing solitude over the comforts of the suite. She had asked the driver to stop, and Maya had followed without question, though concern tightened in her chest.
Noor's car glided smoothly along the road, the steady hum of the engine mingling with the soft tapping of keys on her laptop. Maya, seated in the front beside the driver, observed her closely. Noor, as always, was immersed in her work, her focus unwavering. But then, without warning, Noor spoke up, breaking the quiet.
"Stop the car," she instructed, her tone firm yet calm.
Maya turned to look at her, puzzled. "Madame Noor? Are you certain?"
Noor's gaze remained fixed on the screen, her fingers still dancing across the keys as she replied, "I'll walk for a while."
Maya hesitated, her concern evident. "But it's late. Let me accompany you."
Noor looked up, meeting Maya's eyes for a brief moment. After a long pause, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Alright. "
Both women stepped out of the car, and Maya hurried to catch up with Noor as she started walking. The air was crisp, the scent of rain just beginning to linger. The world around them was still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the trees. Noor's pace was steady, her footsteps silent but deliberate, as though she was drawn to something just beyond her grasp.
Noor's eyes drifted away from the road and landed on the open fields beside them, the landscape stretching far and wide, a patchwork of green. Her expression softened, but it wasn't a peaceful softness—it was something deeper, something untold.
Maya followed her gaze, then looked ahead, her mind racing with questions, but she remained silent. Noor's air of mystery had always been one that Maya both respected and feared. There was something about her, something hidden in her quiet demeanor, that Maya couldn't quite decipher.
After a few moments of walking in silence, Noor turned suddenly, veering toward the fields. Maya's pace quickened, and she matched Noor's stride as they ventured further into the open expanse. The breeze picked up, tugging at their hair and the hems of their clothes.
But then, as if summoned by an unseen hand, the sky darkened, and the first drop of rain fell.
Maya glanced up, surprised, and within seconds, the drizzle turned into a downpour. The air grew thick with the scent of wet earth, and Maya's hand instinctively reached out to pull her coat tighter around her.
"I saw a cave nearby," Maya said, her voice barely audible over the storm. "We can take shelter there."
Noor nodded, her expression unchanged, as though the rain didn't bother her in the slightest. They made their way to the cave, its entrance hidden by thick shrubs, offering shelter from the relentless rain.
Inside, the air was cool, damp, but protected from the storm outside. Noor didn't sit; instead, she immediately began gathering dry wood from the surroundings. Maya watched, her eyes widening as Noor's swift, practiced movements brought the fire to life with ease.
As the flames crackled and sparked, Maya settled by the fire, her eyes transfixed on the flickering light. The warmth of the fire felt soothing, but her mind kept returning to Noor, who stood just outside the cave entrance.
"Madan, you should stay inside. You'll catch a cold," Maya called out, her voice filled with concern.
But Noor didn't answer. She simply stood there in the rain, letting the heavy drops soak her completely, her silhouette slowly blending into the shadows of the storm.
Maya's heart clenched as she watched Noor, her figure motionless, distant. A storm inside and out. Maya bit her lip, the ache of helplessness building. She knew better than to approach Noor in moments like these. Noor's silence, her solitude, was something Maya had come to understand, but never truly accept.
Still, Maya couldn't look away. The rain blurred the edges of Noor's form, but even through the downpour, Maya could sense the weight Noor carried—an invisible burden that seemed to draw the rain around her, as though the heavens themselves wept for her unspoken pain.
"My Lady…" Maya whispered under her breath, the words slipping from her before she could stop them. "Even through the rain, I can see the pain pouring out in tears from your eyes."
Her eyes filled with tears as she watched Noor, her mind racing with questions she couldn't voice aloud. "You're always so strong," she thought, her chest tight with an emotion she didn't understand. "But in the rain, in this silence, you're breaking. You're breaking, and I don't know how to help."
She wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she sat by the fire, her hands clenched tightly in her lap as her heart ached for Noor, for the woman who carried everything alone. The woman who refused to let anyone see her pain.
"Why do you do this?" Maya's voice trembled as she asked herself the question she had no answer to. "Why do you keep it all inside?"
She wiped her tears, willing herself to be strong. But as Noor remained there, standing alone in the rain, Maya's heart shattered a little more.
Noor's thoughts, however, were far from the storm around her. As the rain soaked through her clothes, she stood there, her face lifted to the sky, the coolness of the water mingling with the warmth of her tears.
Noor thought bitterly, her voice silent, but the words echoing in her mind. "I am so tired... But even these passing mere moments are enough..."
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the rain wash away some of the burden she carried.
"Why must it always be this way?"
The more she tried to push her emotions down, the more they clawed their way to the surface. And it was then, standing in the rain, that she allowed herself the smallest crack in her armor.
"They need me," she whispered, as though speaking to the wind. "I cannot let him see me like this. I cannot let him know the truth."
Her thoughts flickered to Sanlang, to his gentle concern and the way his presence had become a constant ache in her chest. His face, his touch, had been seared into her mind since that moment when their eyes had locked.
But she couldn't let him in. Not like this.
Maya, still watching from the cave entrance, wiped the tears from her face and stood up. She had no words for Noor, no way to reach her in moments like these.
But when Noor turned and walked back toward the cave, her form drenched, her movements slow, almost defeated, Maya didn't speak. She didn't need to. She simply stood there, her heart aching for the woman she had come to admire and respect so much.
Suddenly, Maya stiffened as she noticed movement in the distance—four men approaching. Her instincts kicked in, and she instantly understood the unspoken message that passed between her and Noor. Danger was near.
Without hesitation, Maya stepped out, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation, but Noor was already in motion.
With the speed and grace of a predator, Noor moved through the men like a shadow, each strike so swift and precise it was over before Maya could even blink. The first man was sent sprawling to the ground with a crushing blow to the chest. The second fell before he could even unsheathe his weapon. The third didn't even make it past the first strike, and the fourth, well, he was on the ground before he realized what had happened.
Maya stood frozen, watching as Noor dispatched them all with brutal efficiency. When the last man crumpled to the ground, Sanlang appeared, running toward them, his face pale with fear.
"Noor!" he shouted, his voice filled with panic as he took in the sight of the fallen men.
Maya quickly assessed the situation, her calm exterior belying the tension she felt. "It's nothing. Just a few men who thought they could take us by surprise. Even the kids at the orphanage are stronger than them," she said coolly.
Sanlang's face softened in relief, but there was something else there—something darker, something deeper. He didn't take his eyes off Noor as he rushed to her side. "You're alright?" he asked, his voice low, urgent.
Noor's expression softened slightly, but she nodded, stepping back as he approached. "I'm fine, Sanlang," she said, her voice distant, almost like she was retreating into herself.
Sanlang looked at her, concern clouding his eyes. He stepped closer, gently grasping her arms, pulling her toward him as he checked her face, her hands, her neck. His fingers lingered a moment too long, and Noor, feeling the weight of his touch, pulled away.
"Are you hurt?" Sanlang asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Noor shook her head, her usual composure slowly returning. "No, I'm fine. "
But Sanlang wasn't ready to let go. "You don't look fine," he insisted, his voice a mixture of relief and frustration. "Let me help you."
...
The rain had stopped, leaving behind a world that shimmered, drenched in the aftermath of the storm. The air was thick with the smell of earth and fresh rain, a raw, intoxicating scent that seemed to envelope everything. Sanlang stood motionless, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched Noor .
The droplets of water clinging to her skin, tracing the curves of her body in a way that left him breathless. Her wet silk dress, dark and clinging, outlined every graceful curve, the fabric like a second skin. Each movement she made seemed to slow time, her beauty almost unreal, like a vision brought to life from a dream he could never quite reach.
Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back, dripping wet, the strands shimmering in the fading light. The rain had shaped her into something even more ethereal—her face, pale and untouched by the storm, looked as if it belonged to a goddess. Her eyes, though distant, still held that same undeniable power, that unspoken weight of a soul that had endured much. Yet, there was something softer about her in this moment—a vulnerability he had never seen before.
Sanlang's chest tightened, and his throat went dry as he stepped closer, every movement of hers, every drop of water sliding off her skin, only deepening the tension in the air. He couldn't help it—he had always known she was beautiful, but in this moment, she was a vision of something otherworldly, something far beyond the ordinary. It was as if the world itself had paused to honor her.
His hand reached out, trembling slightly as he touched her wrist. His fingers brushed against her cold skin, but the warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through him. He looked at her face, searching for any sign of pain or injury, but what he found instead was the rawness of desire, burning in his chest, making it hard to think clearly.
"Noor," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. "Are you hurt?"
She didn't respond immediately, her eyes focused on the horizon, as though she were lost in thought. Her body, still drenched, was intoxicating—every line, every curve, a beautiful composition he couldn't tear his gaze away from. He wanted to touch her, to feel the heat of her skin, to pull her close and never let go. His heart pounded harder as he realized how much he craved her in that moment—not just her presence, but the way she made him feel, the way she consumed his every thought.
He reached his other hand up, his fingers lightly grazing her cheek, feeling the wetness of her skin. Her hair, heavy with rain, clung to her face, framing her in a way that made his breath hitch. He was so close now, the space between them almost nonexistent, and he could feel the heat radiating from her despite the chill in the air.
Noor's eyes flicked to his for the briefest moment. There was a flicker of something there—something raw, something that mirrored the hunger he felt—but she quickly looked away, the mask she wore falling back into place.
"I'm fine," she said quietly, her voice steady, though the slight tremor in it betrayed her calm exterior. "Don't worry about me."
Sanlang's chest tightened, his hand still resting on her face, his thumb gently tracing the curve of her jaw. "I can't stop worrying about you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His other hand moved, hovering over the curve of her waist, but he hesitated, uncertain if he should cross that line.
The tension between them was palpable, like a storm that was waiting to break. He could feel it—his heart was racing, the heat between them building with every passing second. But Noor remained still, her body stiff beneath his touch, as if she were holding herself back, keeping him at arm's length.
Sanlang's breath hitched as he lowered his hand to her waist, his fingers barely brushing the fabric of her soaked dress. The sensation was electric, sending a shiver through him. "Noor," he whispered, his voice barely audible, the need in him growing with every second he stood in her presence. He couldn't remember ever feeling this way—this desperate, this consumed.
But Noor, her eyes cold as ever, stepped back from him, breaking the connection between them. "Sanlang," she said, her voice quieter now, but still firm, "this… this isn't what you think it is."
His eyes darkened, his pulse racing. He couldn't deny it. He wanted her. He needed her. Every part of him was drawn to her, and the way she pulled away only made him ache more, made the hunger inside him grow.
Noor turned her back to him, the movement sharp, deliberate. "Go back to your life," she said without looking at him, her voice hard. "This… whatever this is, is not meant for me."
Sanlang stood frozen, his chest heaving, his mind a mess of conflicting emotions. He didn't know what had just happened, or what she had meant by her words, but he couldn't ignore the way his body burned for her. She had just pulled away, yet every part of him screamed to follow her, to refuse to let her go.
But he stayed still, his heart heavy with frustration, his mind swirling in confusion. As she walked away from him, he realized that for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure what to do. She was slipping through his fingers, and no matter how badly he wanted her, he couldn't make her stay.
And in the silence that followed, all he could do was watch her leave, wondering if he would ever be able to reach her, or if this would be the last time he ever saw her.
-------
The car hummed quietly in the aftermath of their tense conversation. Sanlang kept his gaze fixed on Noor, trying to decipher the layers of cold indifference that she wrapped herself in. The rain had stopped, but the chill in the air seemed to cling to her more than ever. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, despite the storm swirling inside him. Every curve of her drenched form, every delicate curve of her face, every lock of hair that cascaded down her back—she was so breathtakingly beautiful, yet so impossibly distant.
"Noor…" he murmured, his voice soft, like a whisper carried by the wind. His fingers were still tense on the wheel, his knuckles white, but his gaze never wavered. "Please, I just—"
Her silence was the sharpest sting. She didn't even look at him. Instead, she turned her face toward the window, her breath fogging the glass in small, ethereal clouds.
A long moment passed before Noor spoke again, her voice flat but unmistakably piercing. "You're only making things harder for yourself."
Sanlang's jaw tightened at her words. He swallowed the bitterness that threatened to rise and forced himself to take a breath. "Harder? How? I'm here, trying to be there for you, and you're pushing me away like I'm just another annoyance."
Noor's eyes flicked to him for the briefest of seconds, her expression as unreadable as ever.
"You don't understand, Sanlang," she said quietly, almost too calmly.
His heart twisted, his breath catching in his throat. "Then help me understand. I won't just leave you.... I—I care about you."
Her lips parted slightly as though she might say something, but instead, her gaze dropped, and she shook her head.
Sanlang couldn't hold back the frustration any longer. His voice grew more desperate, raw with emotion. "It's not pity. What do I have to do to make you realize that? Why can't you just let someone in for once?"
Her expression didn't change. She was like marble, beautiful yet unyielding. "I've carried it this long, haven't I? What's the difference if I do it alone or with you?"
The words hit him like a physical blow. He opened his mouth to argue, but before he could get another word out, a sharp pain shot through his skull, as if a vice had wrapped itself around his mind. His vision swam, and the room around him seemed to tilt, everything blurring into a dizzying whirl.
"No…" he gasped, pressing his hand to his temple, trying to steady himself, but the pain was unbearable, a sharp, throbbing sensation that intensified with every heartbeat.
Noor finally turned toward him, her expression still unreadable. Her gaze softened ever so slightly, but it was hard to tell whether it was concern or just the weight of his state that caused her to react at all. "Sanlang?" she said, her voice laced with a rare edge of uncertainty.
He tried to respond, but the world spun out of control, his head swimming in darkness, his body betraying him. He felt his strength failing him, his limbs growing heavy. "I… can't…" He reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing her arm as he tried to steady himself.
Maya, who had been silent up until now, moved in swiftly, her hand gripping Sanlang's shoulder. "Sanlang!" She spoke his name in a sharp, desperate tone, her usual calm demeanor shattered by concern. Her gaze darted to Noor, who, for the first time, looked unsettled.
"Noor," Maya said, her voice shaky, "He's—he's not well. You need to help him."
Noor's eyes flicked from Maya to Sanlang, her lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't move right away, but after a beat, she let out a quiet sigh. Without a word, she pressed her fingers to his pulse, her touch cool against his fevered skin. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the car's tires against wet pavement, and the air seemed to thicken, each breath feeling harder than the last.
Sanlang's vision wavered. His breath came in shallow gasps. "Maya… help… me…" he muttered, his words slurring as the pain in his head became unbearable.
Maya looked back at Noor, her face tight with anxiety. "What's happening to him? He was fine just a minute ago."
Noor didn't answer right away. Her gaze was fixed on Sanlang, her fingers still pressing to his pulse. Then, as if making a decision, she shifted slightly in her seat, pulling the coat tighter around herself. "He's slipping in and out of consciousness," she said, her voice cold and detached. "It's the same thing that's been happening to him."
Maya's eyes widened in panic. "What does that mean? Is it serious? Should we—"
"No," Noor interrupted, her tone final. "We're not stopping."
Before Maya could protest, Sanlang's head fell back against the seat, his body going limp. His breathing was shallow, labored. The lights of the city flashed outside the window as the car sped through the darkened streets, but for all the movement outside, the world inside the car had come to a screeching halt.
Maya's hands gripped Sanlang's arm desperately, but she could feel the coldness creeping into his body, the warmth draining from his skin. "Sanlang," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Don't do this to… to us."
Noor's eyes softened, though it was a fleeting moment. She reached forward, brushing Maya's hand off Sanlang's arm with a gentle but firm motion. "He needs rest. ."
Maya's gaze flicked to Noor, but the woman beside her had once again closed herself off, her eyes distant.
Her mind reeled with confusion and concern for Sanlang. Yet, as the car sped onward, Maya couldn't shake the feeling that the real storm was just beginning.
As the car reached the hotel, Noor commanded Maya to take him to his room where she found Ms.Li , his secratery.