Inevitable Flaw

Chapter 49: Clichés

Gentle Reminder- Always strive to be a good human no matter what. Aim to be better than you were the day before.

Le update ☺️ Hope you are all doing great and staying warm this winter. Also praying your school/uni breaks are restful- sending positive vibes your way. Stay safe 🤍

Does anyone have some good published and factual islamic knowledge book recommendations? Inbox me or leave some recs in the comments, I would love to read some new ones 🤓

Also, I am going through your messages now, I will respond as soon as I can. Thank you always for your support and patience❤️
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"We should open it together," I suggest, staring at the key seated on his palm.

"Yeah?" Adam turns his head to the side in amusement as if to taunt me.

"Never mind," my cheeks blister with warmth at my childish suggestion; the act seemed to hold a lot more sentimental value in my head. 

"It's a good idea," he validates and proceeds to grab my hand until we are both leaned over to open the door.

I inwardly gasp as we are welcomed into an apartment that spans further than my parents' house. The scenic window towards the center overlooks what appears to be an ocean of bright downtown buildings and traffic lights. I almost loose sense of my surroundings as I marvel over the infinite lively view that stages itself among clouds. A rush of emotion well along my eyes as I finally appreciate the rose petals, peonies, and candles that embrace us towards the master bedroom. Adam's hand guides me to a bed smothered by balloons, petals, and gift bags of all flavors and sizes. The large helium congratulations along the ceiling overpowers the massive king sized bed.

My cheeks fall victim as they cushion the abuse of this incomprehensible happiness. As I turn towards Adam to question the cliché of this set up, he already returns my unasked question before I can even mutter a word.

"Mum did most of it," he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck to mask his embarrassment and fumbling masculinity.

"It's perfect," I allow my eyes to greedily capture the molding of colors and shapes that further fuel my erratic breathing.

"You're perfect," he inches closer with a mischievous smile and before my isolated mind can comprehend his intentions, I am lifted off the ground and spun at a speed my eyes can't marathon.

Everything swims by me; the lights outside our sizeable window marinate with the scent of flowers and cologne. I find myself involuntarily laughing at how liberated I feel; a glowing of joy evolves with every turn. It isn't long before I look down at him staring up at me in awe that my smile transforms irrevocably fast into blaring embarrassment.

"Put me down please."

"If you say so," he teases and then proceeds to gently place me onto the bed until I am held captive between the gifts and his hovering arms around my head.

I stare at his face, structured to perfection, every angle. His eyes return to the same darkness, the endless desire that consumed him not more than a couple hours ago. It exists again, but this time, the intensity overflows as lava. I watch as he licks his lips and for a brief moment, I contemplate the mold. When that brief period of weakness subsides, I bath my senses into an ice bath.

I bite my cheek and turn my face to the side.

"I have to use the rest room," I divert to console my heart.

There is a period of silence, thick and warm despite the circumstance. I feel him exhale softly, his breath is fresh and comforting against my face. His body bends and then elevates until he's towering beside me.