Sidratul Muntaha

Chapter 38🌵

Bismillahi Rrahmaani Rraheem•

Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuhu•

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The creak of the door was so loud in the eerie silence of the night that the two friends quietened immediately at the suddenness of it. Muntaha watched Daarim with narrowed eyes. Daarim rolled his own eyes in response and slipped out of the window. The discussion wasn't yet done with, both the friends knew that. But, now wasn't the time. Later. Later they would discuss the new possibilities and developments. For now he braced himself for the new challenge as he leaned back and relaxed on the windowsill, with his hands taking support of the windowsill and his ankles crossed. His eyes stared straight ahead. The friendliness and mischief he had on his face a second prior were stripped away, replaced by a cold detachment.

There were footsteps in the passage at first, quite and low. The Reehans had taught him that footsteps of people talked an awful lot about them. These set of footsteps put him on guard. They were hesitant yet firm. They were uncomfortable to his ears. He suddenly missed Sidra's footfalls. They were firm, sans hesitation now, yet they were graceful too. She was the wind that flowed passionately, like a warrior, like a princess, sometimes both. Sometimes neither. But she was never plain. She was someone who exceeded his expectations each time she took a step. Sidra was an evolver. She made mistakes and she took lessons from them instead of regretting her actions. She made sure she doesn't do the same thing once she learned her mistake. Muntaha had seen such beautiful girls that they could put the moon to shame. Yet he had never truly seen them. But Sidra? Since the first time she had muttered a 'Bismillah' on that tiny raft and poured all her trust in her Lord, before jumping off it, she had held all his attention. He had been pulled towards her irrevocably since then. He sighed in ache and then admonished himself. He needed to concentrate on the present and not reminisce about Sidra. There was a fitna coming his way and he needed all his wits intact.

The doorway was filled with her presence merely some seconds later. She was a sight to behold, even with all the grief that clung about her like a second skin. Her ache made her more beautiful. Her swollen eyes and smudged kohl were innocently peering at him. There was a sheen to them due to the unshed tears that had taken residence in her eyes. Her lips trembled as her gaze met his across the room and she sighed. It was long and suffering.

Her beauty and grief, along with the helplessness that surrounded her image would have affected even the walls that surrounded them. Muntaha though, remained unmoved. There wasn't even a flicker in his eyes. Layla admired his strength. She was used to people bending her way and now here was a man who could care less about what she wanted. It made her want to win his heart and claim it for her own.

"Binte Ismayeel. Why are you here?" She heard him ask in a detached voice and she shuddered at his heartlessness. Rufia didn't lie when she said he had an iron shield around his heart.

"I needed to speak to you." Layla whispered in a strange manner. Muntaha grew alert.

"I didn't know we had any need for correspondence. You should return to your room before I call out to my men to alert your family of your late night visit Ya Binte Ismayeel." Muntaha told her. Layla didn't reply but stared at him in abandon. He hissed under his breath. He felt fire around him and then he lifted one of his hand to bring the wrist near his nose and inhaled. Sidra filled his senses and he sighed. Allah! Why did he not bring her along? She would have been a strong enough shield against all these complications. His woman would have been more than enough to scare away all his admirers.

"We do!" She mumbled almost incoherently. Her eyes had become more and more desperate. Muntaha narrowed his eyes at her. Behind him he felt the air stir dangerously. "The first time I saw you... I thought you were an Angel." Layla told him as she took her first step. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent again. A memory surfaced in his head.