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A / N :

Here's for second male lead syndrome! 😄❤️

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ᥫ᭡
"I allow myself to keep hoping
when it comes to you."

14:00

Khay takes her time really slowly as she does her zuhr prayer slower than usual, she gives salam two times and ends her obligation by gently rubbing her face with her right palm.

The quietness after that soothes her bruised soul, and comforts her battered heart; it's always at moments like this that her mind opens, whispers and confesses random things to the Almighty Allah SWT. She raises her hands to recite her duas; it's always at moments like this also, that she recalls the painful things about her past— her parents and the mistakes that make her drown in the open air.

A lone tear races down her profile, and she begs Allah for mercy and kindness; everything that she went through is in His perfect plans, she hopes for a better tomorrow and a blessed end.

"Ya Allah ya Rabb, I wish for nothing but your guidance and rahmah, bring peace in my heart and soul, take me to where I can smile the most." Aameen.

The prayer mat and outfit were tucked under her comforter. Khay searches for her phone under the pillow, switching it on and reading the time. 2.00 pm. She has an hour left to get ready for the—

Date?

She smacks herself with her phone, an Astaghfirullah bounces out of her mouth.

Right. The walk with Kyle and his cat.

Her face can't help from burning out of embarrassment, just what was she thinking?

She heaves heavily to the phone before angrily tossing it across the bed, a gasp that sounds like a chicken came out of her when the gadget tumbled down through the gap between her bed and the wall.

Just great.

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14:40

The town isn't as busy as Khay thought. She takes the bus to the nearest station where she only has to walk by foot to Kyle's workplace for five minutes. The bus shrieks into a sharp halt that almost makes Khay fall flat on her face. She hardly ignores the spying eyes around her as she straightens herself and taps her rapid bus pass to the paying machine. Beep.

As soon as she steps out of the bus, she gulps down so much air it makes her sick. The anxiety from getting watched is certainly a capital-T tragedy.

She moves around in a simple black dress with a denim jacket hugging her down to her small waist, and a grey scarf around her head. A gentle breeze greets her and she involuntarily pins a hand behind to hold the edge of her scarf, preventing it from flying— a struggle only Muslimah understands.

While at it, she cheeks her watch, and that chicken gasp escapes again.

"2.50 already?!" She succeeds to startle an old Chinese couple sitting on a bench next to her.

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