R e m i n d e r: If you have to pray then pray first and then read. This chapter will be here, but your time is running and it will not return.
| NOTE |
Please read the previous chapter and chapter # 4: Thundering Hearts, for a better understanding of the current chapter.
بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْم
In The Name Of God, The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful
⊱ ⋆ ⊰
He dries his hair with the crisp white towel while his eyes admire the view of the lively city from the full glass windows of his lounge. But the serenity doesn't last long as the door loudly bangs open.
"So you finally made a move on her, mi astuto amigo?" Ivan postulates with a teasing smirk wrecking his lips.
(my sly friend)
Alarmed, Kyle snaps his head to the door and glowers at the Spanish man, regretting his earlier decision to hand Ivan the spare card key to his room. With a huff escaping his lips and eyes rolling, he redirects his attention to the city.
Ivan then welcomes himself inside and plops down on the couch with the same smirk plastering on his face and eyes on his bandmate enticed with mischievousness he first entered with.
"So?" Interest on the peak, Moreno asks.
The midnight-haired throws a side glance at him and then at the bag he got at the other end of the maroon settee. With long steps, he picks it up and ambles inside his room with the damp towel in his other hand.
"'So' what?"
"So spit it out, yo!" The brown-haired man watches him gently putting the bag on his dresser. "Where did you take her?! Nearby city club?" He yells, then hears Kyle chuckle from the bathroom.
"You think I'd be here in one piece if I did that?" Amusedly, Vincent retorts, entering the living area with his laundry. "She herself would have dug my grave then and there."
Ivan chuckles. "I don't doubt it. I don't doubt it." He watches him crouching next to his suitcase by the window, placing his folded dirty laundry clothes in a transparent bag. "You know, you can give your laundry to the housekeepers, and they'll clean it for you."
"I know, but I don't trust them with my clothes."
"It's a seven-star hotel, Kyle" He deadpans.
"I still don't."
Ivan throws his head back and snorts.
After a moment, Kyle joins him on the settee.
"I also got an Executive Suite, but yours is much nicer. Not to mention it smells nice--"
"I always smell nice." The midnight-haired man cuts Moreno, winking at him, causing him to roll his eyes.
"--while mine now smells like a pig house. Thanks to our drunken friend, Alan."
Kyle shakes his head as his eyes survey the notifications on his mobile screen. Two missed calls from his mother. And three texts from Evangeline.
"By the way," Ivan readjusts his position, now facing his bandmate. "you still haven't told me where you took her and how your night went."
This time Kyle looks at him with a lopsided smile. "She took me to the Hagia Sophia. And the night? Well, I slept on the floor while she prayed, and when I woke up, she was bawling."
YOU ARE READING
The Artist And The Atheist
Spiritualité❝ I Had Closed off all avenues to Your grace, But then, I found myself at her doorstep, seeking solace and pace. And what an astonishment that You made her to heal and renew Me, So with gentle care, she led me back to You. ❞ •••••••• He languidly le...
