Heavy droplets of rain camouflaged the hooded figure who slid between each shadow of the hanging lanterns.
With the help of the Master, Husaam had sneaked into the city unnoticed. Using the poorly lit back alleys of Balqaas, just like he had been advised, he had managed to slip under the surveillance of the nightguards that were patrolling the streets. If not for his almost healed wound, Husaam would have gone straight to the Palace. Instead, he would have to set up base and he knew just where. Following the map he received from the Master, Husaam followed the muddy path until the sign he was looking for came into view. In thick calligraphy, the word Motel was scrawled atop the building, lit by lanterns at each side of the sign. As he rounded the corner, Husaam could hear the many voices of people inside and the sounds of cutlery against plates.
A backdoor with a small shelter above it came into view, and he waited patiently by its shadow for the moment it would open. It wasn't a minute later when the door swung open to reveal a young woman holding up a scarf to cover herself from the rain. He watched quietly as she stepped out with an almost full bowl in hand, grimacing when a few drops landed on her face.
Within the sharper features of her face, he recognised the girl from all those years back, though before him, now stood a woman. An odd sensation gripped his chest for a second, yet he ignored it before it robbed him of a chance.
Just as she took a step back, Husaam pounced out from the shadow and grabbed the woman by her arm, shutting the door behind her. He pulled her closer to him and wrapped a hand over her mouth before pinning her to the wall. The bowl dropped to the floor, but the sound was concealed by the clamour inside.
"Don't move or make a noise." He whispered into her ear, causing her to shudder but nod in obedience.
Husaam pulled back and glared into her shaking umber eyes. He felt oddly aware of how every curve of her body was pressed up against his. He slowly brought one hand up to his masked face and tugged the material down.
The girl froze.
Husaam moved his hands from her mouth shifting backwards slightly.
"Husaam," The girl stuttered, her voice smoother than he had imagined. "What are you-how did you get here?"
Her eyes began to well with tears and she reached out to touch his arm. "Do you know how long I've-"
"I need you to return the favour," he spat, pulling back before she could continue. "Provide me shelter here."
"Why? What happened, where did you come from?" She started, her brows creasing. "Where have you been all this time?"
"Rughad."
The woman pressed her trembling lips together. "It is my fault, isn't it?"
Husaam recalled that night, when they were nothing but naive children thinking they could run away to eternal freedom.
"I don't have time, I was followed." He lied.
She nodded her head and he almost laughed at how easy she had believed him.
"You will be safe here," The woman said before turning back to the door and creaking it open. "The motel is a little busy tonight, but we can sneak past everyone to the backyard,"
Husaam nodded.
"The route is clear, let's go," She said and grabbed his arm.
A veil of warm air and voices greeted him, as the girl swiftly led them forward, ducking into corners when voices approached. Husaam was afraid that they would get caught easily - especially with his tall build but the woman was unexpectedly agile.
After swiping an oil lmp and matches, she led him out to the yard where a lonely hut stood a distance away. The rotting door was conveniently unbolt but needed a nudge to open.
Husaam removed his hood and peeled off his cloak the moment they entered, letting the heavy sodden material drop to the floor. His skin prickled with goosebumps, but it was better than the staying wet.
The girl stood wide-eyed watching him unstrap the leather belts across his chest and waist. The weapons clunked to the ground making her grimace at the sound.
"How did you get all of this?"
He ignored her and was about to gather his shirt up when the girl jumped forward stopping him.
"Wait!" she yelped, gripping his icy knuckles.
Husaam didn't realise he was holding his breath in until the woman stumble back, releasing her grip. He refused to acknowledge the heat that rose from her touch.
The glow of the lamp was dim, but it was enough for him to take in her appearance. She wore a faded grey dress with a tie at the waist and sat just above her ankles and ragged sandles, her hair fraying from its pleated pattern. He almost couldn't believe she was standing before him.
"Can you get me a towel at least, instead of just standing there gawking at me,"
"Oh um-" She mumbled before rushing out of the door.
Moments later she re-entered with a pile of fluffy cotton towels. Husaam snatched them off her and instantly began patting himself dry, before throwing a spare towel back to her.
She smiled gratefully and wrapped it around her neck, muffling her chin into it.
Husaam stole a quick glance.
"Will you explain to me now?" She gently asked, patting her hair dry.
Husaam sighed, brushing his wet strands back. Despite their past, he couldn't reveal the truth to her or the reason why he was in Balqaas.
She would hate him. Not that it mattered.
"I'm on the run. That's all I can say, and trust me, it is for your own good that I don't disclose it to you. Now if you don't mind, I'd like a little rest. I'm exhausted, and the rain has worn me down." He yawned, grabbing for a sodden haystack and pulling it towards a dry spot beside a pile of wooden crates in the middle.
"Husaam-"
"Salma, please, tomorrow." He pleaded in a softer tone, mentioning her name for the first time in twelve years.
Salma gave a surrendering sigh.
"I'll be back with some more blankets," she resigned and left him in the embrace of the cold, damp hut.
***
Salma swept her eyes over the path behind her, making sure no one followed. When the coast was clear she gently knocked on the door of the hut, but when no answer came she knocked harder, only to find the hut empty with no sign of the man she snuck in. There was no evidence of his belongings insight, and a cloud of worry looked over her thoughts.
Had he left? After all these years, had he left without an explaination, or even a goodbye?
She sighed. She was naive to think that he would be happy to see her.
Salma huffed again and trudged back out of the hut. She took a piece of bread from the bowl that was hidden behind her shawl, and took an annoyed bite.
It wasn't like they were strangers. He had found her again which had to mean something.
A voice within the motel called out for her and recognising her foster mum's sharp cry, she ran in, leaving her thoughts behind.
So much for missing and worrying about him all these years.
Brushing the thought away, Salma made her way to the reception room, where her foster parents were.
"Ah, there you are." Her foster mother ushered. "I need you to go to the Souq to buy more wheat flour," she said, whilst shoving a few gold coins in her hands.
"But the sack is heavy for me to carry," Salma frowned.
"No complaints! This is why you should get married, so we have another man to help around here!" Her foster mother retaliated, always managing to somehow bring marriage into their recent conversations. "Now, be on your way! We have some hungry guests waiting!"
Salma bit her lip but had no choice to comply, or face the wrath of her foster mother's sharp tongue, which reminded her over and over again how grateful she ought to be since they had taken her under their care.
Beads of sweat dotted her forehead as she trudged through the market with the heavy sack, her dress streaked with blotches of its contents. She had made good progress and was approaching the edge of the market when a trio of familiar faces stopped her in her tracks.
"Well, well. Who do we have here?" The one in the middle sneered.
"Your foster parents making you their lapdog again?" He sniggered, stepping closer to her.
"Move aside Jafr, I don't have time to deal with you."
"Oh, but you look like your struggling with that, let me help you," he said and snatched the sack from her grip. The mere touch of his hand against hers made her shiver with disgust.
"Give it back to me, I don't need your help." Salma refuted, reaching out for the flour sack, but Jafr backed away and chucked the bag to one of his sniggering lackeys.
"As a gentleman, I certainly couldn't leave you to carry this heavy sack on your own. Plus you seemed to be struggling with it." He smirked, stepping closer to her again.
Salma instinctively stepped back, wishing to be far away from this horrid man.
But she couldn't leave without that sack.
"I said give it back! I don't need any of your gentlemaness, but I'd appreciate it if you gave back what is mine and moved out of my way." She said sternly.
"Oh, I couldn't do that. Besides your foster parents would be very pleased to see me if I came for a quick visit, after all, I'll be their son-in-law very soon. Isn't that right, Habeebati?"
The slippery tone of his voice made Salma sick. He stepped closer, grabbed her arm and gave her a filthy smile. Just as she was about to violently wipe the expression off his face, a shadow loomed behind her and with a strong force, pushed Jafr backwards until he fell to the floor on his bottom.
Salma whirled round and met a pair of ice-cold eyes who were looking down at the man on the floor with murderous intent.
"Wha-"
Jafr, after recovering from the shock of the fall, leapt to his feet in embarrassment.
"Yo-you how dare you!" He stuttered pointing an accusing finger at the person.
Salma clamped a hand over her mouth before she could say his name.
Ignoring Jafr, Husaam strode forwards to one of his gawking lackeys and grabbed the sack of wheat flour from his hands. He turned and made his way back to Salma, dumping it at her feet.
The glee in her eyes made the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.
He had been adventuring around the city when he spotted Salma amongst the bustle of the market. Husaam had planned on following her back discreetly but the moment the sleezy creep had laid his hands on her, he leapt out of the shadow before he could think of the consequences.
"Who are you? How dare you try to pick a fight with me?" Jafr spat, jutting his chin in the air as he brushed the dust off his backside.
"As a gentleman, which I'm far from, I certainly couldn't mind my own business especially when a woman is clearly being assaulted by you." Husaam snarled.
"A-assaulted?" Jafr huffed. "You may be unaware, but, I am this woman's fiancee!"
"Is that right?" He said, turning to Salma, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.
Salma's cheeks grew hot and she shook her head rapidly.
"No, I'm not!" She replied, faster than intended, but she hated the idea of being that man's fiancee even though it was sort of true. She wasn't ready to accept it though, and for some odd reason, she certainly didn't want Husaam to know.
"You lying little bi-" but before he could finish, a strong hand clamped Jafr on his shoulder. Husaam gave a deadly smile and tightened his grip.
"I suggest you shut your mouth before I start a real fight with you." He threatened, pushing down hard on his shoulder.
"W-who is this man?" Jafr stuttered, backing away slowly out of Husaam's grip. "Don't tell me you've been seeing h-him behind everyone's back!"
"What?! No, that's not it!" Salma retorted, even though it might have been a teensy weensy bit true. But not in the way Jafr was making it out to be.
"Wait till I tell your parents about this!" He concluded before retreating off into the crowd of the market with his lackeys.
Husaam was about to stalk after them when Salma grabbed his arm.
"Don't. They're not worth it."
"If you insist," Husaam replied, making sure the next time he saw them, he would do much more than just shove them.
Salma didn't need to know that though.
"I need to get going," she concluded, before remembering. "Where were you this morning? I thought you left,"
The disappointment in her voice was evident.
"I was out exploring," Husaam shrugged, which wasn't a lie.
At the first signs of dawn, he had gone out to explore the layout of the city, and it's back alleys, which led to the Palace.
"Not that it should concern you." He added coldly, before turning in his heel.
"Wait!" Salma called.
Husaam halted but still had his back to her.
"You asked for my help, so in fact, it does concern me,"
This time, he turned to face her with a shivering glare and came closer until they were only an arm's reach from each other.
"Listen, I don't want you to get mixed into this. It will only make things difficult for you."
"Mixed into what? The fact that you're hiding? You still haven't explained a single thing to me. Of course, I'll be concerned if you just disappear like that!"
"I don't need to explain anything to you."
His words felt like a beating. After all these years, she was so glad to see him again but from the way he was acting, he probably didn't feel the same. And she had thought that there was something between them, a good enough reason to why he had saved her back then and why he sought for her help now.
She wanted to ask him how he had found her. But her anger got the best of and she muttered the first sentence that came to mind.
"Then maybe you should have not come to me for help," she refuted, trying to hide the emotion in her voice.
"You're right, I shouldn't have," and with that, he strode off.
Salma stood frozen, even though her thoughts raged to chase after him. Her eyes lingered on his retreating figure but the moment she pried her feet forward, he was gone.