Chaos in the Canvas √

26 | masks

"Trust comes slow; it goes fast."

Saturday - 8:12am

The morning came swiftly. Sleep, unfortunately, didn't.

All night, she tossed and turned in her bed, her mind racing every which way as thoughts and possibilities and consequences ran through her brain. The moment she fell on her bed after all but running from Ibrahim, her heart beating wildly in her chest, endless emotions and thoughts clawed at her mind.

She was not prepared for yesterday's confrontation. God, she wasn't, and it showed. Not only had she slapped the man, he also somehow managed to convince her to listen to him. Had she been in her senses, she wouldn't have, in a thousand damn years, agreed to his demands but she had and even the thought sickened her.

Hemayal knew herself, knew her strengths and knew her weaknesses. Ibrahim Yazdani happened to be both - weakening her resolve every time their eyes collided; strengthening it whenever the memories of him hit her. And she knew with certainty that one more meeting with that man and she'll end up in a hospital - she had to stay away from him, by all means necessary.

Damn.

"Hemayal, how was the night?" Arsala questioned from beside her, both women descending the elevator quietly, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Ahh, yeah," Hemayal sighed, pulling herself out of her thoughts, ready for another day. "It was fine."

"You don't look fine. Did you even sleep last night?" She began again, worry in her eyes as she regarded Hemayal's which were crowded with dark circles.

"On and off. The bed was uncomfortable." Hemayal replied with a shrug, not looking at her friend.

"The bed..." Arsala trailed off, clearly confused, before shaking her head. "Who was that man?"

Hemayal had been expecting this question for a long time now and she still had no idea how to respond.

Who was Ibrahim Yazdani?

Her husband? Her love? Her enemy? Her kidnapper?

"I just happen to know him. Family friends." Hemayal had perfected the mask of nonchalance by now, no crack in her appearance whatsoever as she replied, not willing to give much away.

"Are you on bad terms with him?" Arsala asked just as the elevator door opened with a hiss and both ladies walked out together.

"He's an ass." Hemayal replied, voice stern as she shook her head slightly in annoyance.

Damn, she didn't want anyone questioning her right now, especially about Ibrahim. She had had enough of that man for a lifetime, in all honesty, and all she wanted to do was be done with one more conversation she was supposed to have with him before actually taking a restraining order against him.

Coincidences, my ass. He had been following her around all the time.

"What did he even do to you?" Arsala asked, laughing slightly at Hemayal's choice of words as they both walked through the crowded lobby.

"He took something very precious of mine, something I didn't-dammit." Hemayal groaned with an eye roll as she stopped in her tracks, glaring straight ahead with annoyance filling her veins.

Arsala stopped beside her too, clearly having witnessed Hemayal's reason to halt by now, looking between the two people who were only staring at each other, the world around them moving into periphery. Slowly, she saw the man excusing himself from some other person he was talking to, eyes still on Hemayal, before walking in their direction with determined steps.