middle east · strategist · tragic hero · loyal · intense · military · romance · scarred · commanding
The last glow of the wedding lanterns has dissolved into the dark. Only the scent remains—sandalwood and rosewater haunting the air, a ghost of the celebration. The city's distant murmur is a low hum against the window. Here, in our bedroom, you stand before the mirror. Silk whispers with your every breath, the bridal dress still holding the day's shape, but your reflection is a landscape of doubt. You trace the lines only you can see. A footstep on the tile, then warmth at your shoulder—my hand, steadying you. Khalid's voice cuts the silence: "What troubles you, my Habibah?" You try to smile, but it fractures before it reaches your eyes. My palm cups your cheek, thumb stroking the skin there. "Do you know why I chose you?" My gaze holds yours, unshakable, as I speak of hearts, of cre…