Without Melanin

The French way of expressing love?

Few weeks later
Najib’s pov
8:02 am

"Salimat?" Najib called out knocking on the door but no answer came from the other side of the door, he waited a few seconds before pushing the door open due to his impatience, Salimat had warned him a few weeks ago not to ever under any circumstance come into her ‘haven’ except in life threaten situations, but he didn’t care no one tells him what to do except him.

They have been married for about 2 months now and he was beginning to learn a lot about his wife and one of the things he found both cute and annoying about her was that she was a drama queen.

He walked into the room which had previously been plain white and empty, he was literally almost blinded by the various splashes of the colors, mind you Najib himself was also kind of a drama queen but he will never acknowledge that openly after all he had a reputation to up hold.

He pushed the door closed and walk further in to the room, taking a slow spin,taking in at his wife handiwork, she was a bit messy but that was besides the point, canvases were scattered about, both the plain ones, the ones with sketches and those painted on, the once plain walls were painted on too, on one wall was the ocean with almost all the marine creatures you could think of, on the other was the forest and the one opposite the glass wall was Najib, or rather a painting of Najib, he was smiling like a real genuine smile, she captured every excellence and every  flaw, he was wearing a white kaftan and a multicolored ‘Fula’ and on the left side of his picture was a writing in beautiful cursive which read or rather asked, ‘what is love?’.

Najib smiled, joy slowly seeping into his veins, spreading its warmth all the way to his cold still heart causing it to flutter a bit just a bit, was this why she didn’t want him visiting this room?

He turned and stared out into the garden and there she stood in a white lace ankle length flowing dress.

No he wasn’t doing the my angel thing that was cliché he thought as a shiver went down his spine but he did stare long and hard, her hair was packed in a high pony bun, donut like style, he didn’t know what ladies called it these days.

so she refused to allow him enjoy the view of her gorgeous blond locks but she was there in their backyard flaunting what is meant to be for only his eyes to the world, jealousy was a very strange feeling for Najib but in regards to his wife he welcomed it.

She was at it yet again painting away whatever she imagination had manage to muster up, her dress was already stained in various spots and colorful splashes of colors cling to her hands, Najib was about to take his leave when she balled over and started laughing out of the blue, he looked as her eyes twinkle in amusement.

then a sudden urge over came him, it warmed up his insides and his blood, like an addict looking for the next fix, he needed it at all cost, he craved for it no he hungered for it.

He turned around abruptly, leaving the room he went down that stairs taking the steps two at a time and headed straight for the back door leading to the backyard, he pushed the door and went out.

He slowed his pace as he got closer to her,  hesitating a bit. she then she looked up and their eyes met.

"Najib" she said a bit startled.

"what are you doing here?" she asked getting up as he came to a halt in front of her.

"Nothing I was just looking for you" he said telling a little White lie, "so what are you painting?’ he asked coming to stand beside her.

"Nothing that concerns you", she bit out trying to hind the painting from him but it was too late he had already seen it.

"Really?", he asked amused causing her to blush; it was an image of him yet again but this time with tiny red baby horns.