Qais couldn’t bring himself to face an empty home. He had gotten so used to Layla in the lake house he didn’t think he’d be able to breathe there in her absence. So the young lord found himself standing in front of the next closest place to a home he knew.
The ragged, narrow street was empty. Even though the sun was about to set it was still too early for the businesses there. A business that only ran at night.
The cars had been parked at a far distance. None of the guards apart form Pasha were allowed to accompany him there. Not that anyone was particularly interested in this aspect of their boss's time. They were glad only Pasha got the brunt of it.
It was a narrow two storey matchbox house, a single wooden window with a dewan overlooking the street. From afar it looked just like all the others on the street. But only Qais knew every little detail of it that separated it from the others. From the old scratches on its door to the sound it’s hinges make, the way the stairs creak and all the leaks and crevices that allow the cold winter breeze to sneak in. He could find his way here blindfolded.
Pasha had only just knocked when the broken wooden door opened promptly, as if the person inside had been on the lookout for even their footsteps.
A girl appeared, bringing the warmth of the house with her to the snowy street. In a scanty red blouse and skirt, her small face cradled in brown, wavy hair that offered more modesty than her attire.
The moment her eyes landed on the lord they lit up with a galaxy, but her smile faltered seeing the storming ocean of his.
She held the door open for him without a word. And he too wordlessly walked in.
As she turned to close the door she stopped, looking at Pasha who waited outside in the snow, as always. She'd offer him to come inside. But the bodyguard would rather rot in cold than step over that threshold.
He already hated the mere air of that street let alone stepping into those brothels. Unlike his boss, who sought a refuge in them. This particular one especially.
Despite his blatant disgust she threw a pack of cigarette at him before slamming the door on him. That should keep him warm at least.
But Pasha chucked the packet to a side. And stood guard outside the place dutifully, seemingly undeterred by the cold. But his usual stoic grey orbs were filled with indignation. Unlike Qais who had grown immune to cold Pasha hailed from the deserts of the south, he never liked the snow. But he'd still choose freezing over seeking the warmth of a brothel.
His mind went to Layla. How had he let her go so easily? For once he felt disappointed in Qais. No matter how much he tried to redeem him, his wretched habits were too far gone to lose.
He kept worrying about Layla too. Was she treated warmly? Were they still mad at her? He had played a large part in her circumstances now. In fact... he was solely responsible for it.
If he hadn't made that decision the day she was eloping, it wouldn't have come to this. He prayed his decision would not cost her anymore.
♛
Just as those hazel eyes locked with those forgotten browns, Layla leapt at her engulfing Ruhi in a bone-crushing hug.
She hugged her tight, wanting to break out into cries, wanting to tell her of the exhaustion her heart had gone through the past month. To tell her how much she missed and cried for her. She wanted to tell her all the burdens of her heart like all the times before.
But unlike all those times Ruhi did not comfort her. The brown-haired stood stock still in her hug as the sky above them began to thunder slowly.
“You’re back.” She breathed out.
YOU ARE READING
QAIS
Romance"She was his mirage, a dream he could only chase. He was her living hell, a nightmare she could not escape." Layla Mustafa is the only girl in her family allowed to go to university. Belonging to a strict patriarchal background, Layla, the shy and s...
