On the wet sand beside the seashore, the strong, tall man was laying with a cigarette in his hand. His bike parked a few feet away from him. The environment there was serene and noiseless as no one was allowed then on the beach that he owned. It was...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Going inside her room at the speed of light Habiba caught the sight of her son, Zayn, sitting up in the middle of the bed, crying at the top of his voice looking frightened with his blanket and pillows sprawled around him. It was no wonder for her to understand how he had been searching for her desperately since the moment he woke up hearing the crashing sound of the metallic table.
"Zayn." Habiba walked further inside the room and called her crying son, whose back was in front of her and he was moving his head from side to side, searching for his mother.
Hearing his mother's voice, Zayn looked behind in a flick and crawled towards her and stood up the second he reached the corner of the bed. He extended his hand forward to his mother and his mother took him in her arms since she had reached him by then.
Taking Zayn in her arms, Habiba patted his back gently, rocking the baby standing by the bed. Zayn on the other hand stopped crying just being in his mother's warm embrace which he had been longing for since he woke up.
"It's ok. I didn't go anywhere. See, I am just here with you," Habiba whispered, fluttering kisses down the side of his head lying in the crook of her neck, whereas her shirt was clenched by his small chubby hand habitually.
It was not long before Habiba realized that he was so frightened that his body was shaking and sweating unlike before when she left him to go downstairs because back then his body had a high temperature for suffering from fever for the last two days.
After five minutes of her effort, his crying subsided and was replaced by weak hiccupping, as all the crying and wailing had left his body tired and drained.
All of a sudden an angry shriek left Zayn's mouth when Habiba dared to move him from her arms on the bed to change him out of his sweating clothes. Breathing heavily, he tightened his fist on her shirt and looked up at his mother with a harsh glare.
Habiba tried her best to hide the smile daring to curve on her lips, for it would trap her in more trouble in front of her angry son. Her mind pondered over who he had inherited the short temperedness from.
From that train of thoughts, her sense grasped in something else, causing her eyes to agape and the smile left her face. She looked down at her son carefully and became flabbergasted in consequence as a pang of anxiety engulfed her and the pang of worry that hit her was so sharp that she gasped.
On the other hand, Zayn's glare faded away as he looked at his mother dumbfounded for not getting any attention from her, causing him to pout adorably and slumping down his head on her neck going back into his previous position.
"Could it be that his intention for coming into my house and creating a scene was reasonable? Was he right about searching for his son? Zayn's blue eyes, straight nose, dark wavy hair just like him, and he looked exactly like the man downstairs now when he was angry. They have a lot of similarities strangely...could it be that that blue-eyed man is Zayn's real fath...no...no... it can't be." Habiba waved away her assumption.
