𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 || Salim Othman X Reader

①②_Yalla Habibi

IRAQ - October 11th, 2003
BADRA-MANDALI

Salim inhaled deeply the steam around him, before pouring more hot water behind his back. The bathroom in the house wasn't very large, but it was still perfect for keeping the essence of a nice and hot bath inside the walls...now that he was alone, he didn't need to keep time or fear that his son might burst in suddenly without knocking.

It had been almost a month since Zain left for London and now around him, it echoed the silence of his house. About that, Salim had started with some works that he had neglected due to his military service, throwing out the stuff that was no longer needed and cleaning the whole place from top to bottom, including the back of the house; right there, he was thinking of putting a small vegetable garden, or just a garden with some flowers now that the temperatures were more acceptable at this time of year.

But maybe he had exaggerated a bit, he didn't think he would get so tired and right now, only a relaxing morning bath would have regenerated him from his efforts.

[Maybe I'm really getting old...]

He said to himself, not him who had exterminated a dozen of vampires with just a metal stake in his hands! It wasn't official yet, but he had left the Army to give himself some time off, free from any assault weapons.

The truth was, he planned to start a new life soon.

With a quick gesture, Salim stood up and dried each part of his body with a towel, before wrapping it around his waist. Lately, he had been letting his beard grow out, slightly shaved on the chin and cheekbones just to change his style a bit and break from the old military rule...he liked it that way, and in particular, it reminded him better how his beard had grown during his last meeting with you.

Honestly, Salim thought about you all the time and when he had a moment's rest, he went back to re-reading all the letters you had sent him so far; for him, it was like a way to feel closer to him, as if it were your real voice speaking in front of him.

After letting go of his inner frustration, the Iraqi finally stepped out of the bathroom and barefoot, walked to the kitchen to prepare the water for his daily tea, along with some herbs on the table. A traditional gesture that was never missing, in addition to the hour of prayer which he practiced in his room, after getting dressed. Among those words, there was always a prayer for you too, where Salim pledged to ask God to make you feel well...however, he longed to hold you and kiss you in his arms.

[Please Allah, protect her wherever she is now.]

Finished that, Salim walked to the living room to make his breakfast table. Being alone in the house, he didn't bother to add a hookah, since he used to set it when there were guests with him, so he just lit a cigarette for a couple of puffs. Not that Salim was a heavy smoker, but he enjoyed the feel of the smoke coming out of his lungs, as well as fighting his moments of waiting...

Or his isolation, in this case.

But it was normal for him and apart from some sporadic phone calls from the neighborhood, usually no one came to interrupt his peace...well, eventually someone knocked on his front door and Salim hurried to open the door, with his hair still damp and his shirt unbuttoned.

[I'm coming!] He yelled without getting an answer, whoever it was hadn't heard the landlord was about to welcome the unknown guest...

...or just didn't answer because the person at the door couldn't understand a word of Arabic.

• • •

《...》

《Y/n?》