𝓜𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮

28# FILTERS

THE KHALIL RESIDENCE,
ASOKORO.
JANUARY, 2022.

If there was a thing about Jamilah that had changed post accident, it was how willing she was now to give compliments.

She literally said the first thing that came to mind to Jamil, and it messed with him.

Very, very much.

For one, she'd recounted so many times in the past few days whenever she brushed past him that he smelled, 'so nice'.

If the vixen knew the consequences her words had, it'd be a different story. But she didn't.

She'd say what she had to, and go on her very merry way.

Presently, she was tired, her head on the pillow and her body sprawled out on the bed.

She still hadn't stopped wearing the hijaab around him, and Jamil hadn't stopped pretending to be busy with his laptop.

His eyes would never leave the metal contraption.

Not at least, until Jamilah's soft breaths became even, and he was sure she'd fallen deep asleep.

And when she was, the laptop was the last thing on his mind.

Shamelessly, he'd indulge in his staring.

Finding that his facial muscles had become accustomed to the little twitch of a smile he always seemed to have when he watched his wife.

Jamil, respectful as he was, always tried not to touch.

But he found that the task wasn't one he was particularly proficient in.

Somehow, he never could manage to keep his hands away from Jamilah's face.

She'd added a bit of weight, and her cheeks had become a bit rounder than they'd been days ago.

Jamil didn't know what exactly it was about the entire thing, but the fact that it was food that he'd provided for her, purchased himself and had made for her that caused the change in her, he felt his happiness grow immeasurably.

His hands never could seem to stay away from her cheek. He'd poke, and stroke and prod as gently as he could, tracing the line of her dimple.

He'd play with the lids of her eyes, watching them flutter by reflex even in her sleep, he'd brush her lashes, and place his hands against the sides of her face.

It truly wasn't as easy as he'd assumed, not taking her into his embrace like he wished to.

He had desire flowing through his veins, and a thirst he wasn't ashamed of. But he couldn't particularly do anything rash this early.

He'd just have to ease in gently, until Jamilah realized her own thirst for him.

He'd happily be a cool glass of water when her thirst awakened.

And he'd be damned if he didn't help stoke the flames.

But for now, more pressing matters were on ground.

He had to meet with the reporters, and negotiate with them.

And he had to get his house ready for himself and Jamilah to move out.

Hesitantly, he pulled away from his bride, and got ready for the day.

****
Dressed, and about to set out, he planted a gentle kiss on Jamilah's cheek, noting himself to get her more food when he went out.

He almost shook his head at himself.

'Since when had the idea of feeding a person become so intriguing to him?'