Leeha Ibrahim:
A down to earth person who is always ready to help anyone who is in need of help. She was happily living her normal teenage life. But, after few months of her seventeenth birthday something unexpected happened. One incident that took...
"The purpose of this glorious life is not simply to endure it, but to soar, stumble and flourish as you learn to fall in love with existence. We were born to live my dear not to merely exist."
So sorry for the late update.
13.07.23.
Unedited.
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Sciamachy
(n.) A battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow.
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Leeha's P.o.v:
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Next morning I woke up around 5:30 am. When I opened my eyes it took me a while to realise that I wasn't in my room and I was at my husband's room, which is technically our room.
I looked at the ceiling which had a really creative artwork. After sometime I tried to turn towards Ibaad, but i couldn't because he had caged me to his chest. After alot of turning I was finally able to turn towards him.
I looked at Ibaad's sleeping face. He was looking so cute yet sexy. I don't know how this man can look so cute even while sleeping. While on the other hand I look weird with with my bed hair. A pout formed on my lips thinking about it. This is so unfair.
Slowly i traced his facial features from his broad forehead to his thick bish of eyebrows to his almond shaped eyes with beautiful long lashes to his sharp yet slightly crooked nose at the end, to his big plum lips to finally his chesiled jawline. Rest of his body was hidden under the cover.
Before I could slide my hand further down I felt Ibaad held my hand and said in his heavenly morning voice,"If you don't want this to go to extreme level then I think you should stop love."
My eyes met with his sleepy yet beautiful eyes. I blushed at the meaning behind his words and looked down in shyness. A sexy chuckle left his lips.
"Why are you awake so early? It's not even 6:00 am yet," He said looking at the wall clock.
"Morning Prayer," I whispered to him.
"Oh," He said and released me from his embrace. A feeling of disappointment spread in me as soon as he unwrapped his arms.
Should I ask him to join me for the prayer?
I remember once long back Shazia Aunty mentioning about him not praying.
But that was long back. Maybe he had started to pray again.
