LOVE WITHOUT DESTINY

part 38

The morning light filtered softly through the sheer white curtains, casting a delicate golden glow across the bedroom. The scent of fresh roses filled the air - dozens of red petals were scattered across the room, on the side table, the floor, and even near the bed, giving the whole space a surreal, romantic aura.

Amal lay fast asleep, her hair a complete mess - long, thick, jet-black strands spilled over the pillow and cascaded down the side of the bed. Her hair wasn't tied, just freely spread, wild and beautiful, like waves in a storm. She looked angelic, untouched by the chaos of the previous night.

As a streak of sunlight traveled through the curtains and tried to touch her cheek, a hand gently blocked it.

Zain.

He was sitting beside her, close... way too close. He was shirtless - his chiseled torso partially under the blanket, defined biceps catching the light, and his messy hair made him look dangerously hot. His eyes were locked onto Amal's face like he had been watching her for hours, soaking in every breath she took in her sleep.

She stirred a little, the warmth on her cheek waking her slowly. Her fingers moved first, lightly brushing against something hard and warm.

Zain's arm.

She opened her eyes sleepily, her fingers still resting on his bicep.

Zain smiled - a slow, teasing smile that held way too many secrets.

Amal blinked, still groggy.

But then-

She turned to the other side, and sunlight poured directly over her face. She winced slightly, brought her hand to her forehead as if she had a headache, and then slowly sat up on the bed. Her eyelids were heavy as she tried to adjust to the light.

That's when she noticed him.

Zain.

Sitting right next to her.

Shirtless.

Staring.

She froze.

Her eyes widened.

She blinked again - harder this time.

And again.

It was real.

Zain was still staring at her with that ridiculously calm, sensual look on his face.

Amal sat up straight - almost like she'd been hit by a truck.

Her heart thumped wildly as she suddenly looked down at herself. She was wearing a thin-strapped black nightdress, something she definitely didn't remember putting on. Her hands instantly pulled the blanket over her chest as she glanced back at Zain, her voice barely a whisper:

"M-my c-clothes... how did they change? Did you...?"

Zain leaned a little closer, gently tucking one strand of her hair behind her ear, his deep voice lazy and teasing:
"Sweetheart... I'm your husband."

She stared at him, wide-eyed, her heart thudding violently in her chest.

Her voice was small, frightened:

"D-did... something happen last night?"

Zain's smirk deepened.

His voice dropped even lower-deadly romantic, teasing, sinful:

"Seriously, sweetheart... you don't remember anything?"

She swallowed hard. Her stomach sank.

"W-what do you mean... anything?!"