Yo! I want us to finish this before june ends guys so your comments will help. Don't writing chapter 53 and I don't think I'm gonna write more than chapter 65 and max 70... you know how we roll😮💨 Each paragraph
ADAMAWA STATE, NIGERIA.
Instead of taking her to the hospital, he took her back home mainly because she didn't request that he takes her to the hospital and he is not about to be more chivalrous than he is now. He is not that magnanimous. Taking her to the hospital will be the last straw and he is sure that is the last thing Layla would want or even expect from him. She should be galvanized that he's come looking for her, if he takes her to the hospital, she will faint.
It took all his greatest self control to pick her up in his arms, adjust her behind him on the motorbike and even sacrificing his helmet for her. He really was brought up spectacularly by his parents, he is surreptitious in that aspect. If not for his stellar upbringing, he wouldn't have gone out in that weather looking for her after all she's done to him. Not that his brain isn't stopping him from being nice, it keeps doing that but then his mind will tell him 'she is a lady at the end of the run' and then he is out looking for her.
The way she's tightened her arms around him, he almost thought she was faking the broken leg and dislocated arm. She wanted to suffocate him by blocking his windpipe, tightening her hold with each turn but they gladly got back home safely with none of them dead. In one piece.
Upon their arrival back home, he carried her again in his arms, no words exchanged between them till he reached her room or the room she's stolen from him, the master bedroom. He deposited her on the bed and contemplated whether to just leave her to tend to herself or help her to the en-suite at least. She stinks. He knew she is hating herself right now for that as she is someone that's always taken inordinate attention to anything related to her appearance and skin.
He went to the bathroom and turn on the water in the bathtub, poured everything necessary inside for someone who hasn't bathed for more than two days. The last time she bathed was when they... slept together and that was two days ago. More than forty eight hours. He added her bathing salts —Kuu Spa Salt Scrub Bath Turmeric, lightening ones— and everything he finds there, not bothering to check how things are done. He cannot wait to leave her presence, he shouldn't be nice at all.
After making sure everything is done, he left the bathroom to find her still sitting the way he's placed her on the bed, not even her finger twitched. Something is definitely wrong with her but he won't find out what it is as he is not ready to ask neither would she be ready to answer him. She's always been a mystery to him, she shall remain so.
Befuddled and a little baffled that he is now curious about her, he went to stand in front of her and waited till she looked up at him which she did five minutes later. Her eyes were desolated and ravenous he could see nothing inside them but it still shocked him that he took a step back. They are depleted, not even the fierceness is present there neither is the fire, vivacity or embers that's always been there. His stomach dropped in unease, his throat cloaked a bit at that. He's never see her like this.
She looks vulnerable and invincible at the same time that he doesn't know what to do with the situation. He is starting feel something he doesn't like and that thing feels relatively close to empathy.
His features started softening slowly, his brows drawn together and a pained look mask his entire face because he cannot believe he is feeling this. Being a soldier doesn't mean you will have to get your emotions messed up. Or is he getting attached to her after just a day of marriage? Obviously just a day because the other two days shouldn't even be added, she was lost then or was she kidnapped? It looks like it because why else would she be sitting there all alone at night? God knows what's happened in those two days.
Or was she raped?!
He gulped and adopted a soft tone, rich with understanding and acceptance. How that has happened is beyond him. "Are you okay?"
Startled at the question, Layla raised her head to look at him again in wonder then shook her head positively that she is fine. It looks like she is not ready to talk about what has happened and the more she tries hiding things from him, the more piqued he becomes because anything that'll make Layla distraught and overwrought is not little.
"Are you sure? What's happened there?" He pressed, rocking on the balls of his feet to stop himself from running away. He is acting so unlike himself but right now, it doesn't matter.
Layla noticed that he is not going to let this slide just like that so she cleared her throat and draw her brows together in that tough façade of hers. "Nothing interesting. Some plebeians kidnapped me after knocking me out of consciousness only to release me when they realize I work for your mother and they'll be tracked easily by your father and they will rot in jail."
How she knew that, their expression says it all and they've mentioned Ahmad Hakim Al-Hafiz there.
"Kidnapped? Have you seen their faces? What do they look like and where are they?" He fired the questions, his protective instinct rising immediately because there is no way his wife was kidnapped and he has no knowledge of it.
Layla sighed and tried standing up but she couldn't, she's forgotten about her leg. "I don't know them, haven't seen their faces. Help me to the bathroom."
Frustrated at how coldly yet complying she is, he stick his hands around her and carried her up in his arms again like he did earlier. He placed her gently on the edge of the bathtub where she can sit comfortably and undress. He yawed around to leave and give her much needed privacy when she grunted, a sound that didn't escape him since he's being really attentive to everything she does.
"What if I'm done bathing? I obviously cannot walk out of here." She remarked, her sassiness and fierceness slowly crawling back into her body.
He bit back a smile, he'd take this Layla thousand times than the other one she's featured earlier. "You want me to come back and take you out while you're naked?"
She raised a brow as if not at all making sense of what he is saying but she is blushing right from her neck to her ears and gladly, he hasn't notice. "Yeah. I'm your wife, aren't I?"
"Sure, it'd be my pleasure. Should I bathe you too? Seems like you need it." He was just being sarcastic but Layla looked down at her hand again and realized it is broken just like her leg. She is now a handicap, how heartbreaking.
"That'd be very nice of you." She looks really serious and she is serious about it.
What? She is so fucking filthy that she doesn't want to even look at herself or smell herself. It's going to be embarrassing to have Zayd come close to her but he's carried her in his arms anyway. What more harm could be done? He's seen her naked too just two days ago, even had his way with her albeit under the influence of aphrodisiac but that is the least of her concern now. She's been thinking about her life for the past two days that this little thing won't bother her.
She is planning on setting herself to rights before flying out somewhere she can be with her Lord alone. There is no much time left for anyone but we don't realize that until we are really close or on the brink of precipice. She's realized the mistake she's made from the very beginning, but she will set it right now. No human will interfere.
"Just kidding. I'll be outside waiting for y—" He was cut off by her sharp eyes as they pierced through him. Her topaz eyes illuminating with the bright empire chandelier shining in the en-suite.
"You are going to bathe me just like you've suggested! How do you expect me to do that without my arms and legs intact? Have you no sympathy at all? Not that I want that but it's something you should think of with your head. C'mon, I don't feel alright. Do your husband duties." She started removing the edges of her hoodie below her butt with one hand.
Shocked or this should be called galvanized, Zayd stared at her in wonder. His mouth fell open, eyes bulged out, his body movement freezes automatically. He became speechless, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to process what she's just said. A tentative smile started building itself as the shock settles in and sinks in his head. Just what the heck is wrong with Layla? Maybe she's hit her head.
"Are you ill? You don't sound nor look like yourself."
A hiss escaped her lips at that. "I know, I don't feel like myself too. I don't even want to be that character anymore. After this, things are going to change for the better for you. The minute I recover, I'm going to set you free from this entire marriage or whatever it is. I'm fine now, I don't feel any pain anymore and that was the aim. I'm going to go far away, no one will find me. But before then. . ." she let out a satanic smile, played around with her brows on her forehead before adding corruptly, "I'm going to continue making your life hell, Meeky!"
He stared at her indifferently as he felt a stab right inside his rib cage from the part of his heart that slowly started getting attached to Layla, the side that is attracted to her. But there is no denying the rush of adrenaline, excitement and flush of warmth that dashed through him at the thought of her leaving him for good. His mother won't suspect anything if Layla up and leave, she will understand that theory. A heady rush of power shoot in his head, he feels invincible now. Layla is going to be out of the picture and Annalise will click in.
Safely tucking away his excitement, he acknowledge her remark. "Where are you going to? You know my mom won't allow that right? Make sure you run away without her knowledge or she'd do anything in her power to stop you." He started traipsing forward in leisure steps. "And about making my life hell, I think you've done enough already."
Layla waved her good hand. "I can deal with your mother and cousins. And I haven't done anything, wait for it now."
Zayd shook his head and gave her a hand, help remove her hoodie, the sport bra inside. Her normally fluffy, luxuriant, flowing hair is now disheveled, tousled and in disarray that he winced. She likes roaming around without head tie, something he intentionally didn't talk to her about. Her friends don't walk around like that neither do the other Muslim girls around her, then why does she do it? Is she any different or is it that the religion is also separated?
He bathed her successfully and pick her back to the room after wrapping her in a towel like a little baby. She made sure to make him as uncomfortable as possible while enjoying herself with wicked grins and evil giggles. He's never seen her looking so carefree, she is usually very reserved especially when he is around for reasons he does not know neither does he wish to. Now that she's made him fucking worked and turned on, she is willing to let him go back to his room and have some good night sleep.
She's asked him to wash her most sensitive and feminine parts of the body twice claiming she is not sure about how clean she is. Thank God he stayed firm on using a sponge because she's insisted that he use his naked hands. Is she for real? Saying she's never bathed with sponge but that was the least of his concerns. The fact that he even agreed to bathe her is still running through his head in bewilderment. He is not at all himself now, something is wrong.
Gulping, he surged through his head to get an excuse to be away from her maybe for just a few minutes because he is overwhelmed with everything about her —scent, ivory glistening skin, topaz enigmatic eyes, attractive body— that he needs to calm down his damn nerves. He is acting like a schoolboy again when they are all grown ups.
"I'm going to go drain the bathtub." He hurried back to the bathroom and sat down, adjusted his polo shirt collar feeling confined in them.
Gosh, just what the fuck happened? What is wrong with the both of them? Perhaps the aphrodisiac is mixed with some traditional stuff that makes them crave the other person physically? Because why else are they acting like bunch of teenagers just hitting prepubescence.
Feeling a bit more calmer, he left the bathroom only to let out an unhappy grunt at the sight of what Layla is doing. She's got a scissors in her hand, she tilted her head to the side her hair flowing down beside her as she readied the sharp object to cut a large portion of the hair. He couldn't move or think, he stood there rooted as if waiting to see whether she can do it or not. His mother is still trying her damnadest to get longer hair at her age but Layla is trying to cut her own?
Just what is wrong with this psychotic girl half-backed colleen?
When he realized that she really is going to do it, he bellowed. "Don't cut a single hair!"
His voice thundered inside the room, he watched with narrowed eyes as the scissors fell from her hand because she was startled. She yawed around and glared at him, her eyes denouncing.
"What the fuck was that? Must you shout like a banshee before you are heard? This is not your barracks, it's my room." She chided then make an attempt to get the scissors from the floor but no success.
"You are not going to cut a single hair from your head!" He warned again, his eyes stonily held hers that shone with defiance.
"The damned hair is tangled like a bird's nest and there is no way I'm going to waste my time trying to untangle the mess and comb it, I'm going to have to cut it. I'm tired of it anyway. I don't even know why I'm explaining this to you. Hand me the scissors." She let out a rushed breath as if talking like that exhausted her whole energy.
Zayd trudged forward and stood behind her on the vanity table. She is only wrapped in a towel. He touched her vaporous hair with his right hand, combed slowly through the silkiness and watched as she stared at him in the mirror, spellbound. Seeing as one hand won't be enough to untangle the thick hair, he joined his left hand into the task and slowly he get to untangle each tousled strand of hair at the same time massaging her head.
She stopped looking at him and succumb to the feelings bounding her. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, smiled wistfully with parted lips as she recalled a memory deep into her past.
"My aunt was the only person I allow to do this to me. I hate when people touch my hair, it irritates me." She said in a soft voice that took a wistful tone mid sentence.
Shocked that Layla is talking about her family or even anything about herself that is not materialistic, Zayd watched her through the window with deep curiosity. He forced himself to continue massaging her hair so she won't stop talking and feel embarrassed. If only she would continue talking about her past and family, the aunt they don't know. She said was, is she dead? Most probably because why else would she be here all alone in a foreign and dangerous country for years?
Layla started feeling the weight in her chest gaining more attention, her limbs heavy, her heart aching like it always does whenever she succumb to the thoughts of the past. Her senses filled for a little while as her nerves fired all at once at the subject of her desires. Oh, she is so lonely.
"Where is she now?" He asked instead seeing as she is not going to continue talking.
She didn't open her eyes or react like the normal Layla when she replied. "She is dead."