this is completely unrelated lol but im OBSESSED with in my head by peter manos. its such a fucking good song, and as if it couldn't get better, i found out that peter manos is GREEK. anyway lol that made me super pr0ud go listen to that song right now it i promise u wont regret it 🤠
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chapter thirty nine - hideaway
song of the chapter ; LOVE. FEAT. ZACARI. - kendrick lamar & zacari
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"WE ALREADY PASSED your office." Farah frowned quizzically, eyebrows furrowing with a questioning expression as he guided her down the long, wide hallway of their large house. His hand was still looped around her wrist, and when Israfil turned around with a wicked grin on his lips, her stomach felt as if it had fallen to her feet. Giddiness was swirling through her veins, making her limbs tremble and her fingers shake. She knew that the mischevious smile on his face meant that he was going to do something that would get the both of them into trouble.
"I know." He winked, and she let out a slight squeak of surprise when he suddenly tugged her through a random door, closing it behind them.
Farah glanced at the bathroom with a confused shift of her eyes. "Why did you bring me here?"
The air in the room was heavy and thick with something she couldn't identify yet and it only intensified when he walked towards her, a devilishly handsome smirk on his face.
"I needed to get you all to myself for a little," His voice was chillingly attractive, thick and musky, and dare Farah say it... he sounded... sexy. Her heart was slamming against her ribs as he inched closer, and she moved back with caution until her shoulders met the wood of the door. He had her exactly where he wanted, confined to a corner, like a predator and prey. Only, this time, she wasn't afraid. It was thrilling, exhilarating in a way.
"Oh," Was all she could say, but even the simple word fell from her lips so breathily it would've been inaudible if it weren't for his acute hearing.
He smiled, white teeth contrasting against his thick, pink lips. "'Oh'?" Israfil was standing so close to her that she was face to face with his chest, and even though he was deathly tall, she felt too flustered to meet his gaze. Normally, she had to crane her neck up so much that it would sometimes ache, but now, she didn't couldn't even look at him. Instead, she tugged her glossed lip between her teeth with anxiousness, still staring at the black material of his shirt.
Her eyes followed the movement of his hand as it reached to cup her cheek, and each moment passed excruciatingly slow. Her stare caught onto the multiple rings on his fingers.
Farah gulped.
Was it even possible for hands to be attractive?
She had no more time to even think about that because he tilted her face towards his own, forcing her gaze to meet his own. Farah sucked in a sharp breath when sterling grey irises bore into her own, dilated pupils taking in every single layer of her persona. Just a simple glance- that's all it took for him to know everything about her, or at least, that's what it felt like. His eyes concentrated on each of her facial features, like the beauty mark on the top of her left cheekbone, or the tiny, almost undetectable freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose.
"What are you waiting for?" Farah was shocked by her own revelation, nevermind the fact that she had actually announced it.
The cold platinum of one of his rings brushed across her skin, causing her to shiver. "Are you nervous, Farah?" He asked, almost tauntingly, mockingly.
She swallowed hard, her eyes closing momentarily as she inhaled the smell of his cologne along with the warm cocoon of mint brushing across he flesh as he breathed. "Yes." The way he said her name had her spine trembling. If she hadn't been leaning on the door, she would've collapsed, without a doubt.
He exhaled sharply through his nose in amusement, a sort of half-assed laugh. "Don't be," Israfil whispered, so faintly she wouldn't have even caught it if she wasn't paying attention.
Her frustration and desire were skyrocketing, her palms were clammy and lying limply by her sides while her knees felt like they'd give out at any given moment. "Just kiss me already," Farah didn't pay any mind to how airy her voice sounded, all she could concentrate on- all she could think about was him. He was teasing her on purpose, she knew that he wanted her to beg, and at this point, she was embarrassed that she was more than willing.
"As you wish, 'amiriti."
The soft graze of his lips had her self-control plummeting, and surprisingly, her shaky fingers reached up to hook around his neck, but because he was so towering, he had to lean slightly to accommodate her height, and she felt him smile through the movements. Mouths moulded, stirring against each other with orphic passion as the kiss deepened, and his hands fell from her face to her small waist, and in one quick motion, Farah was placed on the counter, pushing her legs apart to allow him to stand between them.
She stopped for a moment to catch a sharp breath before they continued, and she inhaled sharply when he felt his grip tighten around her shapely hips, moaning slightly when his lips fell from her mouth to her jaw, all the way down her neck before settling on her throat. She could feel her jugular vein pumping vigorously under her warm skin, working hard to keep up with the beat of her heart.
Farah sighed when she felt the skim of his tongue trace her flesh, and just as they were about to continue, a loud knock rapped against the door, causing them both to jump.
"Hey, can you guys stop fucking for, like, a quick sec so you can come to say goodbye?" Israfil tilted his head back in frustration as he heard the voice of his younger sister.
"Oh my god," Farah whispered, hiding her flushed face in her hands. "Your family was downstairs the entire time."
Israfil grumbled something before she slid off the counter, wiping her lip gloss from his mouth and then she adjusted her hair to hide the hickey about to form. He unlocked the door, glaring at the floor like it was its fault for interrupting their moment. But his angry expression fell away when he caught eye of her blush, and a smirk began to form on his lips. "Well," He asked, opening it. "What are you waiting for, 'amriti?"
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"He looks exactly like you," Farah mumbled, watching as Israfil's father talked with another man.
Her body was shuffling with Israfil's towards the front door, as his family was about to leave and she still hadn't met his father. Her eyes were darting around the group of various cousins, aunts and uncles, looking for Azrael. Her hand was shaking even though it was encased in his own, and she bit her lip again, "Is Azrael here?"
"No," He answered, frowning in confusion. Just as he was about to say something, a loud, authoritative voice spoke over their conversation.
"Where have you been all night, ibni?"
Farah craned her neck up to look at his father walking towards them, and for a moment she was stunned silent. He was tall-- almost as tall as Israfil-- his body was broad and muscly and thick, dark curly hair with the occasional gray strand lay atop his head. An inky, unruly beard covered his defined jawline, accentuating the structure of his nose and his black eyes. He was essentially an older version of Israfil except for the eye colour, and he looked just as powerful. Like his son, he was the epitome of middle-eastern beauty with his bronze skin that was identical to Israfil's.
Israfil's hand left Farah's momentarily so he could move forwards and welcome his father with a hug, "Sorry, baba, got a little busy." Farah didn't miss the wink Israfil threw at her, and even through her erubescent reddening, she glared at him.
"You must be Farah," His father smiled, holding his hand out for her to shake. She shook it, smiling at him and nodding. "I'm so sorry for my lack of manners, I never got the chance to introduce myself. My name is Abyan." Just like his wife, he too had a warm Syrian accent.
"It's nice to meet you." She smiled, fiddling with her fingers. Although his looks were intimidating and rugged, he seemed extremely kind and welcoming. Esma and Samara were extremely nice, but Farah was scared that like Azrael, Abyan would also take a disliking to her.
'"You too," He returned the gesture, and just as he was about to say something, a familiar female voice called out from the front door.
"Abyan, let's go!" Esma yelled, "We'll come back soon, Israfil, habib! It was nice meeting you, Farah!"
Abyan grimaced, holding his hands out in defence, "I gotta go before your mother murders my ass."
Israfil laughed slightly, and with Farah, they both said their goodbyes and watched as Israfil's family poured outside of the door, and when they were gone, he turned to Farah with that same mischevious grin.
"So," He began, "Wanna continue from where we left off?"
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this chapter was so freaking short and ugli 🤠
anywayz
vote, comment n share babes !!
loves u 🤩