Dare You To Love Me

«18» glimpses of us

“Are you sure?” he pressed, and Yaseerah nodded, avoiding his gaze, not trusting her voice to not betray her.

For some crazy reason, when they began to move farther into the house, Yaseerah’s heart began to pound erratically.

Her ears were throbbing with the rush of blood, her body buzzing with an intensity that made her pause for a bit, Fulan still oblivious to her turmoil.

Composing herself, and forcing all of her thoughts down to the deepest recesses of her mind, Yaseerah followed behind him, another small gasp leaving her lips when they made it into the open-plan area beyond the foyer.

The expansive space was simply breathtaking; bathed in soft, ambient lighting that bounced off of the cream and gold walls, creating an inviting and sophisticated aura that enveloped all of her senses.

A spiral staircase which led to the upper mezzanine level bisected the two zone living area from the dining and kitchen areas.

The living room was adorned with two plush one seater sofas, a love seat and a large cloud sofa with soft throw pillows in different shades of burnt orange, beige, and cream, with gold and black stripes on them.

Pendant lights in warm, amber hues hung gracefully atop the high ceiling, casting a soft glow across the room.

Touches of gold accents adorned the space, subtly reflecting the opulence of the foyer.

Small, tasteful artworks adorned the walls, each piece contributing to the overall atmosphere of understated sophistication.

Yaseerah had seen opulence in interior designs, she’d seen elegance, sophistication, modernism, and a host of other designs but none of them could take a candle to this entire space.

She had never cared much for houses but for the first time in her life, Yaseerah wished this could be hers.

A knife wedged itself deep within her heart and twisted painfully, as she wondered what Fou’ad’s tastes would be, in comparison to Fulan’s. Was he the kind of person who favored opulence over minimalist comfort, or the other way around?

“You have a beautiful home,” she spoke, forcing down the bile of bitterness that had risen in her throat, at the thought of her absentee fiancé.

“Thank you,” Fulan responded, a pinkish hue blossoming across his cheeks which Yaseerah found adorable, distracting her from thoughts of Fou’ad and her future house. “I still think it’s missing something though,” he mused out loud, his gaze pointedly on her.

Like a wife? She wanted to ask, but she bit her lip to keep the bitterness at bay, as she glanced away.

“Would you like anything to drink or eat?” he asked, as he led her into the living room, canting his head slightly, to ensure that she was listening to him.

“Just water, please,” she replied, a deep frown etched on her face, as she cast her gaze upon the white sofas.

“Is something wrong?” he queried, a hint of concern creeping into his voice, though he tried hard to keep his emotions at bay.

“Nothing, I...” she trailed off, shaking her head. Pink blossomed across her cheeks and Fulan’s eyebrows rose, as he wondered what she could be thinking about.

“I don’t want to get the sofas dirty,” she admitted after a beat, gesturing to her dress which was covered with dried blood and dust, refusing to meet his gaze.

A soft laugh escaped his lips, and Yaseerah’s head snapped up in that moment, taking in the laugh lines that crinkled the sides of his eyes.

His laugh had always mesmerized her but his eyes...those brown orbs of his owned her, every inch of her.