Author's POV
The room was dim, washed in the pale blue light of dawn. Shadows clung to the corners, stretching across the walls like fading memories. Aleena jerked awake, her breath shallow, skin slick with sweat. The blanket was twisted around her legs, as though she had been wrestling with the ghosts of her dreams. She sat up slowly, pressing a trembling hand against her chest — the familiar echo of a nightmare that had haunted her for years still pulsing through her veins.
Her gaze drifted to the alarm clock blinking 5:02 AM. The steady rhythm of the second hand seemed louder in the silence. A sigh slipped past her lips — quiet, tired, and heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts.
Aleena's POV
I pushed myself out of bed, my body still stiff from restless sleep. The sky outside was a deep shade of gray, clouds thick and swollen, promising rain any moment. The kind of weather that matched my thoughts — heavy and unclear.
I moved through my morning routine on autopilot: brushing my teeth, splashing cold water on my face, applying moisturizer, and a small amount of lip balm that brought a faint sheen to my lips.
Opening my wardrobe, I scanned through the rows of clothes before pulling out a peach-colored summer dress — soft and simple, a contrast to the gloomy sky. I clipped my ID card to my bag and began walking down the stairs.
Halfway down, I heard my family's voices from the living room — low, urgent whispers that stopped the moment they noticed me. That was nothing new. Their sudden silences had become a part of my mornings. I ignored their stares, heading straight to the kitchen to grab a glass of juice before leaving for work.
Just as I lifted the glass to my lips, I heard my father call my name.
"Coming," I said, forcing my tone to stay calm. I walked toward him, and he gestured for me to sit and have breakfast.
Politely, I declined. "I'll eat later. I'm running late."
Before leaving, I stopped by my grandparents' room. "I'm coming in," I said, peeking my head through the door.
"You know, you don't have to knock Rose," Dadu said, his eyes lighting up playfully.
"After seeing your PDA, Dadu, I was scared to enter unannounced," I teased.
"You silly girl," Dadi said with a dreamy smile. "That's called love."
"Please, Dadi-mumma, don't start your love lectures again," I laughed softly, stepping inside to hug them both. "I'm leaving for office now. I'll be back by seven. Bye"
Their laughter followed me as I stepped out of the room, my smile fading as soon as I left. With a quiet sigh, I grabbed my bag, slipped on my shoes, and stepped into the gray morning.
Author's POV
He woke to silence. No light seeped through the curtains; the room around him was pitch-black — an endless void, except for the faint outline of the bed beneath him. For a long moment, Azlaan didn't move. His breathing was steady, slow, almost measured, as though he were timing each inhale and exhale.
Then, with quiet precision, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cold beneath his feet, grounding him. His muscles tensed, reacting to the chill, to the darkness that pressed in around him. He stretched, each motion deliberate, fluid — as if the still air itself resisted movement.
He began his morning routine with silent discipline, the kind born from years of control. For him, focus was light. Routine was order.
Azlaan's POV
A soft knock interrupted the steady rhythm of my workout. I paused mid-rep and turned toward the door.
"Come in," I said.
My mother entered, smiling the same gentle smile she always wore in the mornings.
"I've told you a hundred times, Mom — you don't need to knock before entering," I said, half-exasperated.
"I know, baby," she said lightly. "I just like to."
I frowned. "Don't call me that. I'm not a kid anymore."
"I know, babyyy," she teased, stretching the word deliberately before walking out. I shook my head, hiding a small smirk she didn't see.
After a quick shower, I dressed for work and made my way downstairs. The faint hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes grew louder as I approached the dining hall. The family was already gathered — laughter, teasing, and the warmth of morning routine filling the air.
Before I could take my seat, a tiny voice squealed in excitement. I turned, and there she was — my niece — running toward me with her arms open and that wide, toothy grin. I crouched down, scooping her into my arms as she giggled.
"Hey, buddy, got up early?" I asked, tapping her nose gently.
"Azzy goot warly!" she repeated, my words bubbling into laughter. I kissed her forehead and carried her to the table, settling her on my lap.
"Don't you think she loves you more than me?" Adeel said with mock jealousy.
Before I could reply, she slipped from my lap and ran straight to her father, proving his point. I gave him a pointed look. "Do you still think that?" I asked dryly, rolling my eyes.
"What will you have for breakfast, beta?" my mother asked from across the table.
"Just toast," I replied.
Before I could lift my cup, my grandmother's voice called out. "Azlaan, don't you think it's time you got married?"
"Dadi," I sighed, setting my cup down. "We've talked about this. I'm not interested."
"You should think about it, beta," my grandfather added gently. "Life is a long journey."
"I'll think about it," I said simply, standing from my chair. "But now, I need to leave."
As I walked toward the door, I heard my grandfather's voice trail after me. "I already have someone in mind — I'll be reaching out to her family soon."
I didn't respond. Just sighed, stepped outside, and slid into my car.
The engine started, the rain had begun to fall, and the world outside blurred through the windshield as I drove toward the office.
Inside the quiet of my cabin, the knock on the door broke the rhythm of rain.
"Come in," I said.
My secretary entered, balancing a stack of files. "Sir, these need your signature."
"Keep them here," I said, gesturing to the desk. "And send me today's schedule."
He nodded and left. I exhaled slowly, eyes drifting to the window where the storm raged on.
"It's going to be a long day," I muttered to myself, reaching for the first file.
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