When everything else was falling apart, Shehryar gave Laila the job as his assistant. Now here they are months later in a very symbiotic and platonic relationship until Shehryar's past comes face to face and he swears to destroy everything from his...
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❝Kuch Kahe Bina He Woh Sab Kuch Keh Jaata Hai Zuban Ko Rakh Ke Khamosh, Aankho Se Bayan Kar Jaata Hai❞
The celestial light filtered through the stained glass illuminating the church in divine colors. A blazing ray of sun fell on her as if setting the tied auburn hair on fire under the powder blue chiffonduppatta draped loosely on her head and thrown across her shoulder. As if they were blazing like the burning pain within her heart, perhaps yearning to bleed in colors that were pure and unseen before. She held the penguin, her fingers molding into the softness of it.
"How did you get here so fast?" She looked past the penguin, down towards the legs stretched out, merely fitting between the rows. Her eyes stayed on the polished black shoes. The red soles had taken the color of warm blood.
"It took me thirty minutes at least, you just didn't realize it." The voice was quiet but carried depth, like the whispering waves of the ocean in the middle of the night.
The minutes trickled by, the shadows flowing along with it as she sat there. The kids left taking their prayer books along with them. Her blank stare stayed on the altar. She had yet to look at the man next to her. Silence covered them like a blanket, but it was delicate and silky blanket enveloping her in warmth. A blanket that was a savior on the frigid night of winter. Time had lost its meaning for Laila and the man next to her was in no hurry to remind her that. He clasped his hands resting them in his lap. Not a word passed between them.
The door creaked open, the murmuring voice of Sister Rosalie followed in. She looked over to the door. Sister Rosalie wheeled Mother Margaret in. Laila stood up, holding the little penguin to her chest. He stood behind her as if looking over her. Laila's hands trembled as Sister Rosalie wheeled her in. Mother Margaret was fragile as if her wrinkled skin was barely holding her brittle bones together. The skin was paler than she remembered, but the brown eyes remained hopeful and bright.
"Laila," the frail voice merely made it across the row. The wise smile widened that taught Laila the foundation of kindness and acceptance. Laila's hands couldn't stop shaking. The towering man behind her stepped closer, merely a breath of a distance between them, taking the little penguin from her hands. She slightly turned around, peering at him through her dense lashes in gratitude. He slowly blinked and nodded at her. She took hesitant steps towards the woman in the wheelchair, finally bending down to sit in front of her. "Laila." Laila wrapped her shaking hands around the old, weak hands.
"Oh, you, my beautiful child." Mother Margaret's sweet voice carried love and kindness through like always along with hopes and prayers. "The coolness of my eyes." Mother Margaret's hands held her with no strength. "My soul wouldn't rest until I saw your light."
"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I was hunting for a job and then I got so busy that I didn't realize time was flying by." Laila kissed her withered hands.
