I know someone who kisses the way a flower opens.

— Mary Oliver

✵

Him

"Come, my prince, wear this. We're leaving."

His mother puts a cloak around him urgently and he watches with keen eyes the guards waiting at the door for them.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

Princess Halah picks him up in her arms and he puts his own around her neck. She nods at the guards who lead them outside of their palace through a hidden passageway.

"Umi, where is baba?" he inquires again, the worry upon his mother's face clearly evident as they escape the palace in the dead of the night.

"Baba will come later, namir. We're going to Baghdad."

She ushers him into a carriage before climbing after him herself. Her hand-maiden and two of the guards join them while the rest stay behind.

"We'll leave with a caravan as commoners. I've already send a messenger to the palace of Baghdad. They'll send guards for us at the borders. Remember," she instructs sternly, "Marwan should not know about our departure."

"Don't worry, amira, the governor won't be back until the day after tomorrow. I'll delay the matters until then and make sure no news reach him," the guard assures.

Princess Halah nods in approval. "Good. We'll be out of Qahira until then."

Her

"Is it going to rain?"

"Looks like it."

"Where will we stay for the night?"

"We'll find shelter. There's a village up ahead."

The horses trot to a stop by the river and Adam dismounts his. He offers her his hand and she takes it, getting down too. The other people in the caravan begins to settle as well.

"What if it starts to rain?" she voices her concern. "We should get to the village before dark."

"Let the horses graze and rest a little, azizi. We'll have the meal and then begin the journey again. The village ain't far; we'll reach there before dusk."

He puts his hand on her back and guides her towards the shade of an orchard. Ilam is beautiful, it's lush valley spread before them like paradise. Her eyes cannot take enough of it no matter how much she stares.

They had crossed the Persian borders the previous days and the caravan had split into those taking a different route to somewhere else, those who had already reached their destinations, and the ones left with them continuing ahead. She cannot help counting days until they reach Isfahan. Yet on the other hand, the thought of this journey ending comes with a loss she's too afraid to admit, so all she has been doing is not to imagine it. But she doesn't know for how long she can deny the inevitable.

"Have you been here before?" Noura asks Adam as he begins to set out their meal.

"Yes, a few times before."

"When?"

"Not long ago."

"This place is heavenly. Why didn't we come across it when you escorted me to Baghdad?"

"We took a different route back then."

He hands her the water and she thanks him. They begin to silently eat their meal and when she notices they're left with only a little, Adam pushes the plate towards her. Noura looks up at him.

"I'm full," he excuses and gets up. "I'll fill water for us. Finish the meal."

She holds his hand before he can leave. "Eat with me, Adam. I can't eat it all."

"I'm done, Noura."

She knows he's lying so she can satiate her appetite. They're short on food and what's left isn't enough for them both. They'll have to replenish their supplies at the bazar in the village.

Noura gestures towards the orchard and smirks. "Can you get me an apple instead?"

The corners of his mouth turns upwards. "They look unripe to me."

"Is it an excuse because you can't climb the tree, azizi?" She stands up and tugs him towards herself. "Lift me up. I'll pluck for both of us."

A faint smile dances across his lips, the glimmer of it reflected equally from his eyes. Without a word, he locks his fingers for her and kneels down. She takes off her shoes and step into his hands as he lifts her up.

"A little higher," she says. "Don't drop me."

"You'll drop in my arms if you do, worry not," he comments teasingly and she sends him a playful glower, keeping one hand on the bark for support and plucking an apple with the other one.

"Here's yours." She drops it on his head, laughing in amusement at him, before plucking for herself. "And here's mine."

He purposefully buckles his arms, and she loses her balances, falling right over him as he catches her into his arms.

"And here's mine," he whispers, their faces a breath apart, and his gaze anchors her eyes. Her fingers curl into his shirt, holding his shoulders tightly, and her throat goes dry like the desert they've just transversed.

"Shameless man," she scolds weakly, coming to her senses after a hypnotizing moment and pushing against his chest. "We're not alone."

He let her go and cranes his neck to her ear. "Well then, I'll wait until we're alone."

Her face burns as if aflame and she quickly turns away from him, picking up the water vessel and rushing towards the river.

"Finish the meal, I'll get the water," she calls out to him, hoping the water is cold enough to cool her skin as well.

When they arrive at the village, the rain is pouring like a storm unleashed and they're soaked to the bones. The wind is angry and loud, and her teeth chatter as she waits under a shelter for Adam to get supplies from the bazar up ahead.

The clouds having covered the sky have welcomed darkness earlier than usual and her anxiety becomes unnerving when a man in the distance keeps staring at her, as if trying to figure out a problem with her, and she moves behind their horses to stay hidden from his sight.

"Come, Hayat, stand here."

She holds Adam's horse by the reins and brings it before herself. But it's only a moment later that she hears footsteps behind her and instinctively pulls out her dagger. Noura swirls around hurriedly only to find Adam.

He glances at the dagger in her hand before remarking, "We're never giving this up, are we?"

"I thought you're someone else."

His orbs rage up like mad sea and black hell. "Who else? Did someone bother you?"

She shakes her head and puts away her dagger. "You took longer. I got worried."

"I found us a place to stay for the night. Come on."

A man leads them to a small cottage at the outskirts of the village, enough to contain them and their horses, and shadowed by tall trees on the opposite side. Noura gives it a dubious look, the place seemingly shrouded by silence and wilderness, as if enveloped by darkness into another world. She steps closer to Adam, both out of fear and cold, and he puts his arm around her.

"You couldn't find a better place?"

"Nature didn't give me enough time to bargain."

"This looks haunted."

Adam chuckles at her. "Slash the jinn with your daggers if they try to mess with you."

Noura pushes him away playfully, and he nudges her towards the cottage.

"Get inside. I'll put the horses under shade and follow you."

"Don't take long."

"I won't."

She gets into the cottage and the very little light left of the day barely illuminate enough for her to make her way around. Putting down her things she's carrying, she finds the logs and starts placing them into the fireplace. The cold bites her skin and she shivers against it. But after many failed attempts of burning the fire, she gives up on it and begins to discard her soaked clothes, getting rid of her cloak first.

A knock at the door interrupts her before she could go any further. "Noura, can I come in?"

"Come in, Adam."

He walks in with their supplies and she goes to help him. He undoes his cloak and takes it off.

"You haven't yet changed your clothes." He wipes his thumb across her cheek, tucking back a few wet strands of hair behind her ear. "You'll get sick, God forbid."

"I tried to light the fire first."

"Go change. I'll light the fire."

He goes to sit in front of the fireplace and she grabs herself dry clothes, coming to stand a good distance behind him.

"Don't turn around, or I'll make you lose your sight your forever," she warns, and notices his body shake with a light chuckle at the threat.

She changes her clothes as quickly as she can, all the while keeping her eyes fixated on her husband to make sure he doesn't budge, which he doesn't. Meanwhile Adam lights the fire and as soon as she's done, she rushes to sit close to it and warm herself.

"Go now." Noura motions him away. "You should change too."

He nods and gets up, then leans back down to whisper into her ear, "You can turn around whenever you want, habibti."

"Astaghfirullah ya Rabbi." Her cheeks flame up for the nth time around him and she glares at him. "Do you really have no shame?"

"What shame do I need around my wife? We're alone now."

"Go away." She gently smacks his shoulder. "Change before you get sick."

"You'll tend to me?"

"No. So you better not get sick."

"We'll see, farasha."

When they're done for the night and have their meal, Noura helps Adam to set up their bed to sleep. She drags it closer to the fireplace and he drags it further away.

"We'll be warmer here," she protests.

"You'll burn us up that close."

"It's cold," she argues. "If you don't want to be warmed up, you can spread a separate bed for yourself."

Adam sighs and gives up against her as she adjusts it the way she wants.

"It'll feel like sleeping in hell," he comments.

"Why does the devil have a problem? Wouldn't it feel like home?" she retorts sarcastically and his lips slowly spread into a sly grin.

"It already feels like home, funnily not in hell, but in heaven around you."

"Flatterer." She shies away from him and steals her eyes. "The fire will burn out in a while. You can sleep here," she pats the space away from the fireplace, "and I'll sleep close to it."

He wordlessly lies down on his side behind her and Noura brings her knees to her chest as she looks back at him, the glow of the flames flickering upon them both in shades. He closes his eyes, and she stares at his face a long moment, as if memorizing the edges and cuts of his features, committing his details to memory for a tomorrow she has suddenly come to fear where she's left without him.

Her heart beats achingly at the thought and she scoots closer to him, calling him softly, "Adam?"

He hums in response without opening his eyes.

"You've never told me about yourself."

"You've never asked me."

"Tell me then. I'll ask you now."

He opens back his eyes and looks at her. The fire burns out in the black of his orbs, into an abyss too dark to permit light. She finds herself getting lost into them.

"Ask away then, what do you want to know?"

She leans on her hand besides him and he gazes up at her. Noura ponders for a minute, tapping her chin, before posing her first question.

"Where is your home?"

"With you," he replies smoothly and she frowns at him.

"Don't deflect me like this."

"I'm being honest."

But she shakes her head and he lets out another exhausted sigh. "It's nowhere, azizi. I grew up in slavery and moved from place to place. There's no place to call home."

Her feelings go raw and tender towards him. She hurts for him. But he speaks passively without giving away any emotions.

"Well," she continues, "where was your family from? Where were you born?"

"My father was from Erbil, but I was born in Baghdad," he answers.

"So you spend your early childhood in Baghdad?"

"Only a small part of it."

"Did your family live in Erbil?"

He pauses, his gaze on her intensifying, as if suddenly searching for something, before he closes back his eyes. "Qahira."

"Qahira?" she ponders in confusion.

"My baba worked there," he clarifies.

"Ah." She hovers over him curiously. "What was your baba like?"

Another pause, longer this time, and she assumes he's probably too tired to carry the conversation before he replies, "He loved me. Very much."

"Of course he did, silly." Noura edges forward some more. "And your maman, what was she like?"

"Like a princess."

"And--"

"Shush." He once more opens his eyes and places a finger on her lips, silencing her queries. "Can I make a request now?"

Unable to utter anymore words, she only nods at him. He removes his finger from her lips.

"Will you sing to me the poem you told me about?"

"The one my baba taught me?"

"Yes, which reminds you of butterfly."

"Alright," she agrees and clears her throat. "But don't stare at me; it'll distract me."

A fleeting smile graces his face and his lids shutter close. Noura eye him as she begins, her voice flowing like a faint melody between them.

"Butterflies and roses / Nightingales in proses."

Her nails dig into her palms as she fists her hands, resting the urge to reach out and trace the curves of his face. He looks so peaceful to her.

"All the world fades away / Love is only what must stay."

The rain joins to sing with her with its patter, the fire simmering down to let the density of the night take its root with every tick of time. Her stare on him turns sharper.

"She is who he chooses / He is who she chooses," Noura finishes.

"Why did you stop?" he asks without looking at her.

"I don't remember the rest."

"Pity."

"It's been a long time since my baba..."

Adam finds her again with those eccentric orbs, blinking, spreading his arms for her. "Come here."

Her heart jumps, but she cannot move an inch, feeling paralyzed. He tugs her to himself gently.

"Come to me, farasha."

This time, she doesn't resist and lies down in his arms, her head resting over his shoulder. He drags the blanket over them and nuzzles her temple.

"What was your childhood like?" he inquires in a hoarse mumble.

"Beautiful." She smiles. "When my baba was alive and we were living in Baghdad. I don't remember much but what I do, it's beautiful."

"At the palace?"

"Yes. There were Eskander and I. My baba was a vizier, so we spent much time at the palace. Eskander was friends with prince Sulaiman. I'd play with them too, sometimes. But mostly I'd play with Joojoo."

"Joojoo?"

Noura laughs to herself and looks up at him, finding him staring back at her.

"Yes, I don't know his name. Maybe I never got to ask it. There would be many people at the palace and I couldn't remember everyone's name so I'd give them my own."

He smiles, tilting down his face. "So, he was your friend?"

"Uh huh. He was one of the princes. I don't know whose son though. And it's been so long, my memory of him has faded now."

Adam places his hand on her waist. "What a tragedy," he comments.

"Isn't it?" she agrees, nestling against him. "After my baba passed away, it was difficult for my maman to manage alone with Eskander and I; we were young. So we moved to Isfahan where my mother's family lives, and my uncle became our guardian until Eskander reached maturity."

"Do you miss it though?"

"I do, sometimes. After all, the past remains, even if as ruins, it's there. And then we never know when we might run into it again."

"True, but who have you run into?"

Sulaiman bin Khalid, she wonders, the prince with magic in his eyes. Maybe that's why she hasn't forgotten him-- his eyes left an imprint. But how can she tell that to Adam? She has no explanation for her encounters with the prince. Noura mindlessly draws patterns across his chest.

"No one, but who knows, I might. Like the prince who's after the throne. I remember him from my childhood after all."

Adam knits his eyebrows in perplexity. "Al Hadi?"

She frowns back at him. "Is prince Sulaiman known as Al Hadi?"

"That was a regnal name he adopted when he became the governor of Dimashq. He goes by it."

"I didn't know."

She shushes down, and so does he. The riddle of the prince comes undone, long after when she had stopped seeking its answer. Noura let it go without an effort, not wanting any strings to keep them connected. The secret of them is a trouble in itself which she has no heart to deal with. At least not now.

Amidst the rain outside and the lull in the atmosphere inside, they gaze at each other. Her eyes fixate on his split eyebrow, the two scars in it that divide it into three, and she lifts her fingers to graze it delicately.

"How did you get it?"

"Got punched on the eye. The man was wearing a ring on his finger. It left a mark."

"Twice?"

He clicks his tongue in refusal. "Second time was in the war."

"Suits you."

This gets a laugh from him. It mesmerizes her, like an unbreakable spell, transfixing her into the moment.

Her gaze glides down his cheekbone to the tip of his nose before tumbling upon his lips. Her breath hitches. She drags away her eyes but they slide past the angle of his jaw, once more becoming bound to his mouth. His nearness begins to overtake her. Noura swallows uneasily.

Adam tightens his grip around her, hugging her closer to himself. He tips down his head and she can almost hear the thud of his heart-- or maybe it's her own. She loses her logic to nothingness before his words jolt her back to her senses.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

Noura chokes on the air, gawking at him as she drowns in shame and embarrassment. "What?" She swats him away and glares at him, miserably so. "Cheeky man, why would I want to kiss you?" she demands angrily, mortified at being caught no matter how obvious her staring had been.

"You were gazing at my mouth," he points out brazenly.

"I was looking at your eyebrow," she lies flatly.

"My eyebrow is upon my lips?"

She pushes him, trying to get away, but he holds her to himself. "Don't bother me, Adam."

"You wouldn't kiss me?"

"No."

"Fine then, I'll kiss you."

In one swift movement, he switches their position so he's upon her and she's trapped beneath him. His agile fingers slide up her wrists to lock with hers on both side as he hovers above her. Her eyes widen in surprise and his name leaves her in a gasp.

"Adam..."

"Stop me if I'm bothering you."

His lips drop to her neck, moving nimbly, leaving feather kisses, but she cannot stop him-- she doesn't want to.

"Adam..."

"Adam is yours, zawjati (my wife)."

"Good. Better. If I learn you've a ma'shooqa (lover) I don't know of, then the soil better be calling to her already before I dig her a grave myself."

He lifts his face to look at her. "You're jealous?"

"Yes," she admits truthfully.

He smirks, angling his mouth to hers. "Anti habibti, Noura (you're my love, Noura)." He pecks her lips with growing passion. "La 'ahad siwaki (no one but you)."

She smiles, the bliss in her