Saved by my nightmare (A Nigerian Story)

CHAPTER 63

ABUJA, NIGERIA.
2021.

Rayyan still slept a lot, the nurse had told him it was his body trying to heal.

But since coming to the hospital, since seeing Maliya, he'd found that his mind never rested.

His dreams of Maliya had become much more frequent, almost teasing him.

When he'd been in the NDA, he managed to control his emotions. He'd just sit in bed for a while and stare off into space, smiling at memories that once were.

But now, being in the hospital, seeing her mere moments after she'd only just left his dreams, Rayyan believed he would go mad.

His dreams were unpredictable. Sometimes, he would see Maliya as a child, tears in her eyes and bruises littering her skin.

She would call out to him so brokenly, begging, pleading for him.

And even in his dreams, Rayyan would feel his heart squeeze painfully, tears falling without cease down his face as he willed his feet to move.

They never did.

He'd watch Maliya crying for what seemed like decades, watch her as she contemplated suicide, talking her self out of it and back into it in a heart breaking cycle.

And whenever Rayyan would have those dreams, he would cry himself awake, silently. He would lose his strength to talk, not making any noise, but the tears would fall unabashed.

But sometimes Rayyan's dreams would be happier, more of memories than they were dreams.

He'd see his self too, a Rayyan that hadn't grown the beards or muscle, leanly built and mischievous.

Maliya would always be by his side, hazel eyes twinkling as they watched their preys— usually Zahar, and occasionally Rumaysa— fall victim to their pranks.

Afterwards, they'd run together as Zahar chased them angrily, huffing and puffing as they laughed.

Maliya wasn't as fast, so he'd hold her hand sometimes, urging her to run faster by calling her slow.

The girl would glare at him while he smiled, knowing he'd riled her up enough to make her go faster.

Other times, he'd let her run in front of him, watching out for Zahar from behind.

On those days, when Rayyan woke up, he'd have a nostalgic smile on his face, and he'd reach for his phone, scrolling yet again to the video he'd kept of her.

Some dreams were a bit....... well, happy but there wasn't as much laughing involved.

Those always had him blushing.

Maliya would always show up, a temptress in every form.

Rayyan had never seen her in reality the way he saw her in his dreams, and he wouldn't particularly say he didn't like the transformation, because by his lord, he loved it, but he also knew those were dreams he couldn't quite pursue yet.

In those dreams, Maliya wasn't the quirky, mischievous little girl or the one that had a deep aura of sadness. No! Here, Maliya whispered.

She whispered...... In his ears, a low tone that caused chaotic feelings in him.

She smiled, a smile that ventured between the borders of devilish and angelic. Not quite the sweet smiles she had when she felt shy, but one tainted with thoughts he wasn't sure were safe for his blood pressure.

And the things she wore! 

Rayyan couldn't bear thinking about them.

And whenever he would wake up, the man couldn't help but stare off into space, no logical thoughts forthcoming.