She Is My Hayaat

Epilogue: ...And Always Will Be

~One more time for Izhar and Nouran.~

➳3 Years Later

The fluorescent lights in the hallway outside their penthouse were dimly lit, casting shadows on the black and alabaster marble floor as he turned the brass key in the doorknob with an exhale of cool air. Every stealthy movement of his was quietly calculated and precisely executed, not wanting to wake up those who'd succumbed to slumber on the late winter night as he brought the chilly wind inside with him. However, he was unaware that just as he was awake, a part of him within the walls were as well. 

His steps were slow as the heels of his brown polished boots clacked against the pristine floor of the elite penthouse. He made sure to gently and completely turn the antique doorknob behind him before closing the dark chestnut door, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise. His glimmering sea eyes raved around, a minuscule smile settling on his lips as he drank in the contents of his home. 

The dollhouse was stowed away in the back corner by the playroom, all the pieces perfectly in place with Mr. and Mrs. Hop guarding the precious castle. The two were the couple stuffed bunnies his three year old daughter had named when he'd bought them for her from a shop in London. 

Mr. Hop wore a midnight blue bowtie and matching trousers with black suspenders, and Mrs. Hop was laced in a mini version of a contemporary Alexander McQueen Autumn black-knitted flare dress. It was finished off with a Jacquard-embossed hem, falling right below her knees. A black silk bow sealed around her head, right under her floppy left ear. His daughter had instantly fallen in love with the bunnies and never let anyone other than her trusted people touch them. 

Thinking about his precious baby bug immediately filled his heart with warmth, and he longed to see her. He'd missed his beautiful princess over the five day excursion to San Fransisco for work. He no longer wanted to hear her bubbly chatter over the phone, but instead ached to watch the way her ruby red wine lips would turn into a small O when new revelations were discovered and she'd chirp away in her whimsical soprano. He'd missed the flutter of her thick and curly lashes that outlined her large and round almond eyes, bewitching silhouettes on her high red apple cheeks. 

He let out a single huff of cold breath under his breath as he moved around while taking off his charcoal beanie, brushing the small snowflakes that had found a home in his luscious hair. He shrugged off his black peacoat and cashmere plaid scarf and put them on the steel hooks of the rack perpendicular to the coat closet. His nose was raw from the biting cold, the tips of his ears flushed rouge as he rubbed his icy palms together. He dropped his messenger bag on the coffee table perpendicular to the large cut mirror upheld on one side of the wall and grabbed the fresh bouquet of flowers he'd bought on the way home. 

He rounded the living room and the precious vintage black Steinway he'd bought in the last two years for his daughter to practice her piano lessons on, but noticed there was a faint light coming from underneath the French doors of the kitchen as he made his way towards the other side of the house. Soft whispers of satin mingled with the dimmed lights of the lavish kitchen, and his steps slowed as he tried to pick up the voices on the other side of the doors that mingled with nightingale. 

"It's close to your bedtime, and you want ice cream now?" her voice, a splendid ardor twisted into a higher octave with astonishment. 

"Pwetty pwease?" the low honeyed chirp he longed to hear filled his ear and swelled his heart with pride. His steps quickened from the noise.