The cold haveli wind played with Almara's scattered hair. Aradam Shah, looking like a mysterious shadow as always, paused for just a second upon seeing her there. In his eyes, their was no surprise, but rather a glint as if he had already seen this moment before.
"I knew you would come here," Aradam's voice pierced the silence.
Almara, composing herself slightly, spread her dupatta over her shoulders. She met his eyes and asked with a touch of sarcasm, "And what if I hadn't come!"
A faint, peaceful smile appeared on Aradam's lips. "Hmm... I knew you would come." He didn't take the Almara by the hand, but held her lightly by the arm—a sensation that was firm yet held a strange sense of protection. Almara began to walk with him without any hesitation, as if she had known this stranger for years.
The two of them reached that part of garden where dry trees and fallen leaves crunched under their feet. Aradam sat on an old bench and motioned fir Almara to do the same. There was a strange silence in the atmosphere, but Almara was perfectly normal.
"At least, tell me your name," Aradam look at her, his deep eyes having an effect even from behind the mask.
"Aradam Shah," he replied briefly.
"Now take off this mask," Almara made an other request...
He reached up and pulled the mask away, his features finally visible in the soft morning glow. Almara took him in for a fleeting second before quickly looking away, suddenly interested in the gnarled roots at her feet.
"Was there something you wanted to tell me?" She asked, breaking the silence.
"No. There's something I wanted to give you. Aradam produced a small, leather-bound diary in a soft shade of white and pink. "I should have given you a red rose, Fairy. But take this for now. The rose comes later."
Almara glared at him, though her grip on the dairy tightened. "If you'd given me a rose, I would have thrown it in your face."
He let out a low, amused huff. "Which means you would have accept it first. You have to hold it to thrown it."
"Whatever," she muttered, a smile threatening to break through. "Are there no canals around here. I like the water. Will you take me?"
Aradam leaned back, a mocking glint in his eyes. "Do you want your family to toss me into that canal, Fairy? You look like Alara, the water nymph."
"I'm not a fairy. I'm Almara," she corrected firmly.
"But you're a princess, aren't you?"
"No. Just Almara."
"And do you know what 'Almara' means. He watched her closely as the sun began to peek over the walls. She went quite for a moment. "Ah... Princess."
"Exactly. But to me, you're a Fairy. I thought you were the silent type when we first met, but you have quite the sharp tongue."
Almara bristled. "What? You're picking fights already? What are you going to do next?"
"I was just making an observation."
"An observation? You said my tongue is too long!"
"I speak the truth," he said, leaning in slightly. "And what did you mean by 'what are you going to do next'?"
"Nothing." She snapped, turning her head.
"You're much cute when you're angry, Fairy," he teased.
Almara rolled her eyes. "When I first saw you, I thought you were a decent, quiet man. But here we are, our third meeting, and you won't stop lecturing me."
"And you're supposed to be the quiet one, right?"
Almara smoothed the fabric of her black suit, her gaze dropping for a fraction second. I thought you might actually say something nice, about it," she murmured, tried to sound casual.
Aradam leaned in slightly, the shadows of a smile playing on his lips. His dark eyes locked onto hers, catching the soft morning light. "And here I was, hoping you'd finally noticed my eyes instead. Besides," he softened his tone, his voice dropping an octave, "you never needed my validation, Fairy. I think left more than enough of that behind in Malaysia."
Almara's expression softened, a genuine smile tugging at her lips as the early morning light finally revealed the warmth in her eyes. The memory of Malaysia—a secret world they had shared before the shadows of their current lives took over—flashed before her. They weren't strangers; they were just two people rediscovering a bond that the rest of the world had forgotten.