In A Quest For Love

Chapter 9.

★★★

We share the same bright sun, the same round moon,
Why don't we share the same love?

>>>>>•<<<<<

I inhaled and exhaled, turned the door knob slowly and entered the room. I spotted her sitting on the bed, posing at her Samsung, she was engrossed in making poses that she didn't notice me coming in. I walked further to the room and went over to the mirror, I carried her lipstick and tossed it on the floor, immediately it made contact with the metal tiles it produced a sharp sound.

At that, she looked up at me and I took in her appearance; her lips was painted with the red lipstick I threw, her face was beautifully baked. A beauty she really is.

She got up and walked towards me, her hands were folded across her chest , she was wearing a pencil gown. I shook my head, at how the dress looked on her.

The dress was hugging her tightly, showing off her slim figure. Her really slim figure, if I may add. She's got the kind of body people call 'figure one'. Well, that's how models look.

I mimicked her, also folding my hands.

"What brings you here?" She asked.

"This is my house, I can go wherever I want to. You don't have the right to question me."

She smiled and rested her weight on one foot. "Claim it all you want, but beware, it'll only be for now."

I left my hands to fall on my side. "And what do you mean by that?"

She smiled evilly, "sweetheart, that's for me to know, and for you to find out."

"Why don't you just pack your things and leave. Aslam and I are married. Why don't you go get another guy. "

"Oh no, sweetheart, Aslam is mine and mine alone."

I shook my head in disbelief, "and as you can see, his wife is standing right before you."

"I can see that quite clearly. I ain't denying it."

I smiled, "I'm glad you know that."

She turned around walking over to her bed, my eyes roamed behind her. So thin.
She sat down on the bed carefully, as how a princess would do.

"It's not going to last sweetheart.  I'm here, remember?" She asked, rhetorically.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, "no, who do you think you're to say such?"

Her eyes left her phone which she took to assess the pictures she took earlier. "I'm Aisha Abubakar Isma'il, and whatever I want will happen.''

"Oh yeah, miss Aisha. I bet you won't succeed in this. Aslam in mine, okay?"

She got up and walked over to me, "Aslam is yours, huh? Really?" She chuckled, "I won't succeed, huh? Looks to me like I'm the wife. I don't have anything to be scared of, you aren't a threat to me sweetheart, Aslam is already mine. You know, to me it seems like you're just a cook in this house. You and Aslam have been married for three days now, am I right? But has he for once called you to his room? You know what; scratch that.