Better Late Than Never

17.5

Ayman's guest room, despite only being furnished with the necessities and an abstract painting, was a space Ayra found stunning. His laundry room? A fairytale space brought to life which could undoubtedly make her sign up for a lifetime of laundry given that she was allowed to use his for as long as she lived. His home office, which was opposite the guest room, had her feeling unusually giddy and she all but skipped from one point of the room to the other, taking it all in and ensuring she did not miss out any detail.

There was no feeling of embarrassment for her at the fact that he watched her reactions and movements. If anything, she felt safe; like she was where she could be who she wanted regardless of whether or not she acted her age. She couldn't bring herself to tell her how appreciative she was that he created such an atmosphere around her.

Unlike Adil's house, Ayman's did not have a basement so Ayra followed him back to the hallway and up the stairs. The family lounge, which sat between both sides of the upper floor, had her heart melting. If she'd thought the living room was cosy, it was nothing compared to the family lounge.

White layered curtains covered the wide window which had a cushioned white loveseat in front of it. She itched to jump on the loveseat but settled for running a hand over it. The softness of it had her nearly crying and she turned to Ayman who watched her with a small smile and an expression that held more emotions than she could even attempt to decipher.

"Ayman, this is so soft."

He nodded. "It is. It's perfect for naps, especially after Fajr when I return from the mosque and I'm not ready to go to my room yet."

It was scary how vividly clear the mental image she had of him on the couch was. She had to avert her gaze while pushing the image away. She spoke a heartbeat later, telling the honest truth. "I can imagine."

Ayman said nothing, choosing to keep watching her. He kept his feelings and thoughts under control to the best of his ability.

The loveseat had accent pillows in cream and light brown shades which matched the coffee table and the side stools. There was a vase on the coffee table alongside books she'd never read. When she asked how he kept fresh flowers around the house, Ayman sincerely told her "I get them once in a while. Sometimes the vases are empty and those times, I get tempted to fill them with faux flowers. However, I sometimes get tired of looking at the same thing over and over so it's easier to get fresh flowers, leave them for a while, and then take them out when they've run their times rather than hoarding faux flowers and then changing them on clockwork."

She chuckled, due to how he let the last part out. "Hoarding will be such a hassle."

"Exactly!"

She turned back to the vase where hydrangeas sat. Her smile shrunk but became even more beautiful. "You pick lovely flowers though. They fit the house too."

It was then Ayman began to wonder if bringing her in had been a good idea. He didn't regret showing her around nor did he regret having her in his space. However, in the time they'd gone from one space to the other, she'd left a trace of her everywhere. With how his mind was when it came to her, there was no doubt that he would have a long night and a long next couple of days.

Ayra, oblivious to it all, admired the night lamps on the side stools of both sides of the loveseat before she faced him, done with noting everything that was in the space. Ayman schooled his expression and pointed towards the left. "That room's empty."

She blinked, staring at the closed door for a moment before she turned back to him. "Why?"

"I don't have a use for it yet. I didn't want to furnish it to avoid having to move anything out if a time came for it to be used."