Love Me, Mikayla

XXI

MIKAYLA

. . .

I feel pain coursing through my limbs the moment I try to sit upright.

But I do it, sighing in the end. My eyes remain closed and the memories of yesterday play before the closed and warm lids.

Last night we had dinner in a hotel. There were Indian dishes, too, which saved me from seafood. However, Barak didn't hold himself back. He enjoyed seafood but not crabs or snails which were famous there. When it felt less, he stole a few bites of Indian food from my plate, too.

Later he told me that his friend owned that restaurant. He met us. Andreas was his name.

We chatted for at least half an hour. He came to our wedding ceremony so I wasn't standing awkwardly in a corner while they talked. I was comfortable with that guy but I missed his wife.

Eliza, his wife, is a woman with a good sense of humor. Though she's a talkative woman, I still liked her but she was home and even if Andreas wholeheartedly invited us, we had to put down the offer because it was already midnight.

Still, we have the offer though.

Now that it is the second day of our honeymoon, I wonder what he is going to do today.

"Hey, good morning!"

I look up at the gentle and chirpy voice of him, yawning a little. "Good morning," I say, beginning to untangle my braid to put my hair in a bun.

He is working on his laptop and looks energetic. Even after doing everything yesterday, he's chirping like a bird. He looks beautiful when he smiles.

"How did you sleep?" He asks, putting aside the laptop and gazing at me as I spend time twisting my hair carefully.

"Very good," I answered. "What about you? You couldn't sleep?" I push the pin to secure the bun and get down from the bed carefully, not letting my nightgown gather up.

My thighs hurt.

Ha. What else could I expect after enjoying all day and finally ending the tour at midnight?

"I did. It was good," he answers, watching me put on my silk robe as I feel his stare on my back, warming it up with whatever look he gazes at me.

"And you woke up early?" I tie the knot, turning around and having him look into my eyes.

"It's my habit." His eyelids seem heavy. "And you spent your entire morning sleeping."

I'm not surprised, to be honest. I knew I was going to sleep until the sun was brighter and burning. And I did.

No, I'm not proud of it.

I hum, folding the mattress after jerking it off. I set the pillows in their place. "What are your plans for today?" I ask him, watching him stand up from the couch and come to me in slow and steady steps.

"Explore the city and a movie night. How's it?" He asks, standing in front of me. I have to look up from the waistband of his gray sweatpants to not imagine anything dirty because I'm sitting in front of him after making the bed.

"Awesome," I say, smiling up at him. He smiles back with softness in his eyes and his hand comes on my cheek to caress my skin.

He closes his eyes and begins praying. Only he can hear what he says and I watch his lips moving as he speaks, looking as beautiful as an angel. I wonder how Dawoods were able to give birth to a boy as pretty as an angel.

Surely he has inherited sharp features from his father and the softness and gentleness of his mother but these sundown locks bathed in mango saps and ocean eyes? From where did he get this?