His Forced Possession

Chapter 5 : Moonlight Conversations and Nightmares

Moonlight Conversations and Nightmares

As I got ready for bed, a pair of piercing dark brown eyes kept appearing in my mind. No matter how hard I tried, they refused to leave. And while I know not to trust everything in the tabloids, his reputation painted by them is truly fear-inducing.

I remember the first time I read about him in an online article. A few class fellows of mine were talking about how the heir of Khan Technologies had no control over his anger. Intrigued, I looked him up and for the first time ever, saw his picture.

The first thing I noticed were his dark brown eyes, overflowing with uncontrollable rage. Then I noticed the busted lip, the cut on his cheek, and his bruised knuckles. He was being held back by three people, probably to stop him from reaching whoever he was fighting.

Even though it was just a picture, his tall height was evident even through it. He didn't seem to have such a huge physique back then as he has now, but he still had an imposing figure.

The article wrote about how he had beat up an interviewer, simply because he had asked him some questions. As someone who doesn't have much of an interaction with the media, even I knew that was utter bullshit. No one loses their crap over 'a few simple questions', especially not someone raised to mind their public image.

It had taken a few hours, but then, the article was gone and no one ever spoke of it again. A few media outlets had tried to bring it up but somehow, all those articles were quickly removed and the writers who published them? Never heard from again.

I avoid reading gossip magazines for this specific reason, too many convoluted and contradicting articles. You can never know what is true and what is fabricated. Media outlets only publish news in a manner that would bring them publicity.

Compared to the first time I saw him, the Zaviyaar whom I met tonight was different. He was so much bigger in size and much more composed in manner than the old one. His eyes, though, were still the same as before, swirling with rage and anger.

When he held me to his chest, I could feel his hard body pressed against mine, his thick, muscular arms holding me tightly, restricting any movement. But his eyes, it was like he was lost. Like he wasn't actually there, yet he still held on to me.

His imposing figure, combined with his piercing gaze, terrified me. Looking at him made me realise just how easy it would be for him to break me...

Reminiscing about my encounter with him, a shudder went down my spine. As much as I am aware that the media lies, I also know to trust my instincts. And my instincts told me to run. Which is exactly what I did as soon as he freed me, without looking back.

I lied down and closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep but I couldn't. I huffed and sat back up, upset. I was sleepy all through dinner and on the ride back but now that I'm actually in bed, I feel wide awake. Ugh!

"Can't sleep?" Baba's gentle voice came from the door as he stepped inside, already in his sleeping suit, with a mug in hand.

"Nah, I can't. Guess sleeping on the ride back wasn't the best decision." I chuckled and shook my head as I remembered how deeply I had slept on the ride back home.

Baba smiled as he shook his head and sat down near my open window, looking outside at the beautiful full moon. "Warm milk?" He raised the cup towards me.

I smiled and joined him near the open window. I took the cup, thanking him for it. He always knows what his kids need. Superpower, I tell you.

We quietly sat there, enjoying the gentle breeze and the beautiful view. It's been a while since we've sat together like this. It's comforting.