⭑ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏 𝟎𝟓 .ᐟ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

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العقل زينةthe mind is an adornment

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العقل زينة
the mind is an adornment

              THE NIGHT AIR slipped through the cracked window like a whispered secret, cool and heavy with the weight of unshed tears, brushing against Maryam's skin as if it knew the burden she carried

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              THE NIGHT AIR slipped through the cracked window like a whispered secret, cool and heavy with the weight of unshed tears, brushing against Maryam's skin as if it knew the burden she carried.

She pushed open the glass of her kitchen window to enter her apartment, the familiar creak of the hinges barely registering in her tired mind.

Finally, she was alone.

As soon as she crossed the threshold, her hands went to the scarves draped around her neck and head, tugging them free. The fabric fell to the floor in soft waves, revealing sweat-slicked skin and disheveled hair.

She didn't bother turning on the lights; she knew the space by heart.

The shadows were her refuge, offering quiet sanctuary after the whirlwind of the night. She moved through the room like a ghost, her bare feet making no sound against the cold tile.

In the silence, her thoughts caught up with her — the flood of everything she had pushed down, shoved aside, now rushing back.

Her body felt heavier with each step toward the bathroom, the scent of Gotham's streets clinging to her suit like a second skin. She trailed her fingers along the edge of the countertop as she made her way in. Inside, the soft click of the door closing felt like a final seal against the outside world.

She flicked on the light. Its harsh glare bounced off the mirror, exposing a truth she could no longer avoid.

The violet bruise on her brow stared back at her, dried blood in a thin line across the cut, a crusted reminder of the night's violence. She muttered a curse under her breath : it's going to be hard to hide that. Her skin was still smudged with dirt from the alley.

Bracing her hands against the sink, she leaned in to inspect the damage, touching the wound gingerly, wincing at the sting. 

It wasn't deep, but still noticeable.

𝐓𝐔'𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈 ❧ bruce wayne.Where stories live. Discover now