The Dream

Zain

-Carla Siddiki-

"I love you."

-

I've been thinking of those words ever since he whispered them to me. The night passes like a blur in between the thoughts that spiralled around my head and every time a new butterfly would form, taking flight. 

When I was first confronted with the profile of my possibly new personal assistant, I was intrigued instantly. There was a sense of realism in his words, there was no exaggeration, he wasn't trying to impress anyone despite that being the exact reason behind a CV, a social media page. No, instead he was confident in his ability and would prove it constantly. There was pride but no ego, there was hard work as well as good results. It was all there. 

When he walked into my office his perfection radiated off of him. Unlike those before who treated our interview as a stage they had never performed on, he took the spotlight. His straight back, his relaxed broad shoulders, his focused gazed. He knew what he was here for, he knew his aim and I could tell that he wouldn't disappoint me in seeing it through. 

I hired him.

The man who was consistent in the quality of his work and did what was expected of him if not more so. Everything was done perfectly, his skill, his talent, his knowledge making it seem as if he was inhumane. He was...the best. 

But not just in his work. The way he spoke, his mannerism, put him above everyone else. You could tell that people wanted to talk to him, wanted to listen, wanted his attention. He was able to convince anyone of his opinions, was able to make anyone swoon. I was proud to be around him. 

He also had the looks that impressed all, his sharp jawline, hair that's always taken care of, clothes never out of place. You could tell he cared about his health and his appearance but it was never for anyone other than himself. 

His smile, his grin, his smirk, lit up every room. 

And his eyes. 

They glowed so brightly to me, so brightly it was divine. 

But he was human. Like me. 

He didn't see the potential that I saw, he didn't see how well he was able to control the atmosphere in every room. He didn't think he was as worthy as I knew he was. He thought he was flawed. 

And that hurt me. 

For the first time, I cared deeply for how someone thought of themselves. To have him look down on himself, to lose faith in himself or not see how easily he was able to do things others would find so hard, would bother me and make me do whatever I could to have him see himself in the way I saw him. If only he saw himself the way I saw him.

And if only he knew how he made me feel. It was more than just respect, although I did respect him greatly, I admired him. But he also made me feel a warmth I had never felt. He made me feel as if I was important and noticed. I wasn't invisible to him nor did he only talk to me just because I was the one giving him money. He was genuinely interested in what I had to say, in my interests, in my life. I felt as if I was thought about and...cared for. 

And in turn, I cared for him too. I wanted him to be well. I wanted to see him smile. I wanted to see him succeed in whatever way I could. And most of all, I wanted him to be happy. 

What broke me out of my thoughts suddenly was the alarms of my house going off but these weren't a fire alarm or a wake-up call. It was my security alarm. I slowly got up from my bed and walked towards the door of my room, grabbing something on the way, where, to my surprise, Zain was already there looking for me almost worriedly and confused. "Are you okay?" he asked and although I would have found that sweet, right now all I could do was nod at him whilst thinking about the reason why my alarm may have gone off.