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❝Angels don't lie, but you do. If I'm a devil, what are you?❞
When Burq loses his memory in an accident and doesn't remember his own wife anymore, Leyla finds it a chance to escape her beastly husband and pretends to be his friend...
Where is the real you? All of you? Too much here. Too much there.
— Marina Tsvetaeva
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The sky is cloudy and each of her breaths mists in the air as she walks past the gates of his house inside. The drizzle is light but cold and biting. This isn't a night for the sky to be peppered with stardust after all.
Their houses are opposite to each other's with only a road separating them, so she didn't have a problem coming here. But given the hour of the night, she knows it is inappropriate to be meeting him now. Although tomorrow he's leaving for the capital for work and she couldn't delay the awaiting conversation anymore. She has already taken her decision and is sure of it.
A few of his servants greet her on her way to his room with looks of surprise and suspicion, but none dares to question her. She's always welcomed at his place and they know of their lord's fondness of her. He's an unforgiving man and under his roof his servants aren't allowed to talk about affairs that aren't their business.
The way from the outer gates to the inside of the house is long enough for her legs to be numb from the cold, and then from the front doors to his room enough to have her lose her breathing. She hovers outside his bedroom door, suddenly anxious, and checks the time again.
12:15 a.m.
Lawangeen will be seriously upset if he finds out about this, she thinks.
A faint music flows through the door and she knows he's awake. Steadying her nerves, she knocks on the door. When seconds pass and no permission comes to let her in, she knocks again, with her knock proceeded by the same silence. Inhaling deeply, she turns the handle and walks inside.
His room is vast and beautiful, with the wall directly in front of the door made of glass. The curtains are pulled apart and the glass is covered with raindrops, distorting the view outside of the gardens mesmerizingly even in the dark. She can see the dim lights glowing out of the window same as inside of the room.
She cranes her neck and finds him sitting on a rug, leaning against a bundle of pillows, with his back towards her, busy listening to a ghazal on the giant screen of his LED. For a moment, she only takes in his side profile before blinking. He's a handsome man, very much so, but just not the right type.
"Who has a death wish to have disturbed me?" he speaks without turning around. "Didn't I already instruct everyone not to even roam around my quarters?"
From the cigarette between the fingers and his disheveled appearance, she knows he's in a bad mood. But there's no turning back now.
She clears her throat. "Asfand?"
His head snaps instantly in her direction at her voice. Even in the dim lightening, she could read the shock in his steely gray eyes. How could eyes be so captivating yet cold? Belonging to a human but so beastly?
