From the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids her beauty made a slave of me.

— Adonis

☾

"Thank you for inviting me over for lunch."

"Thank you for coming, Banafsha."

Larmina greets his wife with a hug and kisses on both cheeks. He stands behind Banafsha as she and Larmina make introductions. The weather today is again stormy and insane, the angry clouds rumbling constantly can be heard even from the inside of his sister's house.

"We're celebrating the new addition to the family," Larmina says, cheerful. "I asked Mikael to bring over the girl he cannot stop talking about."

He feels his face flush as Banafsha glances at him with a secret smile. Mikael throws a warning look at Larmina which she ignores.

"He told me about your son," Banafsha mentions politely. "I've got him a little gift."

She hands Larmina the gift bag she has brought with herself and Larmina thanks her. She leads them inside the house into the living room and they settle on the couch.

"Hurairah and Zimal have went to the market to fetch some things," Larmina tells them.

"Sangeen and Qutub?" Mikael asks.

"Sangeen is sleeping. Qutub is around." Larmina stands up and directs to Banafsha. "There's still time in lunch. Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

"Juice?"

"Coming." She smiles before turning to Mikael. "And you, brother?"

"Same."

Larmina excuses herself and they're left alone. Banafsha looks at him.

"Sangeen and Qutub? Your sister has two children?"

He chuckles lightly at her. "Qutub is our cat."

"Ah."

The sound of front door opening and closing gets their attention before Zimal comes rushing into the living room.

"Baba!"

She leaps at him and he's quick to catch her in his arms, getting worried at her exhausting herself because of her condition.

"How many times do I tell you not to run like this, khwagy? You can get hurt, God forbid," he instructs, his tone gentle but reprimanding.

"Afsha!" Zimal grins at Banafsha, suddenly everything forgotten in her excitement of seeing their guest, not meek as the last time she was in the hospital.

Banafsha smiles as she reaches for her hand and Zimal steps closer to her. "How are you, angel?"

"I'm good. Baba told us you were coming."

"Ah, so were you looking forward to seeing me?"

"I was! I'm happy because baba said we could hang out together," Zimal rambles.

"That would be lovely," she agrees kindly.

Someone clears their throat and they look up to find Hurairah watching them, an amused expression glinting in his eyes.

"Doctor," Mikael introduces them, "this is Hurairah, my brother in law. And Hurairah, this is--"

"I know who she is," he interjects with a lopsided smile. "Nice to finally meet you, Banafsha. We welcome you to our home."

"Thank you. Nice to meet you too."

He nods in acknowledgment and gestures to Zimal to join him. "Come on, guday (doll), why don't you come with me to see what's your aunt up to in the kitchen."

Zimal follows after him and once more they're left alone.

"Looks like you've been talking about me to your family," Banafsha remarks.

Mikael lets out an awkward laugh. "Yeah, well, I hope you haven't minded?"

"Don't be silly. Why would I?"

"I'm glad you haven't." He stands up. "Give me a minute. I'll just go see where has Mina gone with our juices."

He excuses himself and goes to the kitchen to find Larmina and Hurairah in a hushed but heated argument. Mikael knocks on the door to let his presence be known and they both turn towards him.

"Uh, where did Zimal go?" he asks uneasily, sensing the tension in the environment.

"Out on the patio with Qutub," Larmina replies tersely.

"And our juices?"

"I was bringing them before Hurairah came in." Larmina points towards a tray on the dining table.

"I'll just take them."

"Mikael," she stops him, motioning him near. His gaze flicks to Hurairah questioningly and he draws an imaginary knife over his throat. Mikael swallows.

"What is it, Mina?"

"You didn't tell me."

"About what?"

"About all this drama." She throws up her arms in frustration. "About what's going on between you and Banafsha. She doesn't even know your identity!"

"She knows me, just not as her husband," Mikael argues feebly.

"That's the major problem. She thinks you're probably someone else and she's here with you mindless of her husband. Ain't that charming? Imagine when she finds out the truth."

"I'll tell her everything in due time."

"When the time is due, I'm afraid you won't be able to handle it then. And this is all because of him." She points a knife at Hurairah who raises his hands in a calming gesture. "How dare you hide something like this from me? You're responsible for all this turmoil. I'm going to deal with both of you for afterwards."

"Okay, love, but can you please put down the knife? Someone might get hurt," Hurairah requests in alarm.

Larmina stares daggers at her husband before dropping the knife on the counter and picking up the tray with juices, regarding Mikael once more.

"Does your daughter even know this is her step-mother we've invited over for lunch?"

Mikael opens his mouth to reply but nothing convincing comes out. "Well, ehm, she will..."

"In due time?" Larmina scoffs in disappointment and turns to leave.

"Mina?"

She stops at his call.

"Please don't mention anything to my wife that might complicate things."

"Your wife has a name, Mikael," she retorts crisply. "And don't worry, I don't want it to get any more messier than how it already is."

She leaves the kitchen and Mikael releases the breath he has been holding.

Hurairah slumps down on a dining chair in resignation. "I think we're in some serious trouble here." He sighs heavily. "Your sister is gonna kill me for this, man. Help me."

Mikael arches an eyebrow. "I need saving myself."

He clicks his in mock sympathy. "Oh yeah, your own wife might kill you too once she finds the truth herself."

Mikael runs his fingers through his hair and scrubs his face, suddenly all nervous. "I never thought it would come to this. I'm in too deep."

"Hey now." Hurairah stands back up and holds his shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. "What is yours will find you. Banafsha included. And if you both aren't meant to be, then destiny would split you anyway, no reason needed."

"This isn't really comforting to hear."

"Truth hardly ever is." Hurairah claps him on the back. "Come on, cheer up. Your wife is home for the first time. Don't make this ugly face."

Mikael nudges him away and he laughs as he drags him out of the kitchen with him.

Later on, they have lunch together. Thankfully for him, it goes smoothly without any bothersome discussions. Larmina plays cool with his wife; she also brings Sangeen to her and Banafsha gets to hold him too. When they're done, Mikael invites Banafsha to his house for coffee and she agrees. They say their goodbyes to Larmina and Hurairah and leave their place. Since his house is nearby his sister's, they set off on foot with umbrellas against the rain. Zimal skids ahead of them, thrilled about their guest, while he holds Qutub in one hand and umbrella in another as he follows after her. Banafsha walks close beside him.

"Welcome to our home." Mikael opens the front door and they all get inside. Banafsha glances around briefly before directing to him.

"Cozy," she comments and wraps her arms around herself, "but it's a little cold."

"I'll turn on the heat." He hands Qutub to Zimal. "Why don't you feed him some milk, jaan?"

"Okay!" Zimal leaves with him.

Mikael takes their umbrellas and place them in a stand before putting away their coats in a rack, then takes off his cardigan and offers it to Banafsha.

"Here, doctor, it'll warm you up a bit."

She takes the cardigan from him without protesting, unlike last time. "Thank you."

He leads her to the living room where a glass wall is overlooking their backyard. The curtains are pulled apart and the rain is falling outside, its rattling creating a soothing melody. Banafsha walks over to stand by the glass and Mikael goes to turn on the heat before coming to join her.

"So, miss, how would you like your coffee?" he asks.

"You know, I've always liked the rain," she says instead, pressing her palm to the glass. "However it may be-- a calm drizzle or a mad storm-- something about rain has always been fascinating to me-- it's healing." She shifts her eyes to him and they've a strange spark in them. "I had a balcony back home in my room. Whenever it would rain, I'd just sit there and listen to it. And then there would be that smell after rain, and life wasn't so arduous in those fleeting moments."

He smiles at her and leans against the wall, crossing his arm. Banafsha toys with the buttons of his cardigan she's wearing, a gesture he has observed she does whenever she's anxious.

"When I was a child," she continues, "my mother taught me that there's an angel God has appointed for sending rain and providing us with food, responsible for keeping the laws of nature in harmony to sustain mankind-- the angel of mercy. Angel Mikael."

His gaze melts into hers, burning, sizzling, but unwavering. His heartbeat goes erratic one moment and stills the next as the air between them charges up with anticipation. Banafsha lifts up her chin, both defiant but modest with her movements and speech.

"Is that why I've always been so fond of rain? For the angel who sends it is named Mikael. And someday I was to be fond of a man named the same."

Suddenly, the world around him loses its significance but her words echo everywhere. She is all who matters to him right now. Unknowingly, he leans closer to her, for a minute almost forgetting she's still unaware of the reality of their relationship.

"If I ask you for something, tell me you won't say no," she says quietly and he finds himself agreeing before even fully understanding the gravity of her demand.

"If it's in my power to give you what you ask of me, I will," he promises and she smiles, biting down her lip. "Ask away, doctor."

"Marry me, Mikael."

He feels the oxygen being sucked out of his lungs as he gawks at her in disbelief like a fish pulled out of water. His mouth agape, Mikael frantically tries to collect his thoughts to say something but his sanity has gone haywire. When he continues to stares at her without so much as making a sound, Banafsha asks fearfully,

"Can you not?"

"But you're already married," he manages to choke against the ecstatic contractions of his heart.

"What if I'm not anymore? Will you marry me then?" she proposes.

"You don't love me, do you, doctor?"

"I'm fond of you, Mikael. And that's the most I've ever felt towards a man. If I can like you, can you not make me love you too?"

A shiver runs through him at her request. He reaches out to touch her face before he can stop himself. His fingers barely grazes her cheekbone before she steps away from him, as if electrocuted.

"Not now. Not like this." She shakes her head at him. "Not until I'm married to another one."

He fists his hands as his fingers convulse with want. "Yes, I'm sorry."

He moves back right in time when Zimal walks into the living room. She makes her way towards him and Mikael smiles naturally, kneeling down to her level.

"I've fed, Qutub, baba."

"That's like a good girl." He kisses her temple and she looks up at Banafsha.

"Can you teach me how to make a hairstyle like yours, Afsha?"

Banafsha grins and nods. "Definitely. How about I make it for you now?"

"Okay!"

Banafsha gives him a lingering look before she settles on the couch with Zimal and starts styling her hair. Her delicate finger moves skillfully to create intricate braids.

"I used to style my niece's hair for her," Banafsha tells them. "She's only four but such a diva."

She's probably talking about Mughis's daughter, Mikael gathers, recalling Abeer from their nikah night. As Banafsha and Zimal engage in conversation, Mikael excuses himself to get them coffee.

He goes to the kitchen where Qutub lies peacefully in his bed. Mikael whistles at him.

"Hey buddy, missing me?"

Qutub meows at him.

"Me too."

Mikael prepares two coffee mugs for himself and Banafsha while pour his daughter milk and mix cocoa in it. A while later, Zimal comes to the kitchen to show him her hairstyle.

"How does it look, baba?" She tilts down her head so he can see.

"Very beautiful, like a princess."

Zimal beams at him. "I'll go to my room to see it in the mirror!"

"Take your milk with you."

Zimal takes her cup and skips to her room eagerly. He picks the coffee mugs and makes his way towards the living room. But Banafsha is not there. Instead, he finds the door to the patio open and his sight falls upon the person of his interest outside.

She sits on the stairs of his backyard, his cardigan wrapped over her shoulders, staring absently at the rain falling. The breeze blows her hair over her face but she doesn't bother brushing them away. He takes a moment before approaching her, watching her from a distance with the coffee mugs clutched tightly in his hands. She looks to him like an artist's canvas-- a mesmerizing portrait. She will always be a meticulous artwork to him, too holy to the touch, too bright for the eyes.

Sometimes in life, he realizes, the heart longs for distant stars and bookish fantasies. But that sometimes, the stars fall and fantasies turn into realities when the tables of fate flip. Like his heart always leaping towards something always unreachable to him, until the strings holding that something fell apart. Maybe the cards destiny plays will always be unfathomable. Maybe hearts can be traded without love in the equation. But what good would that be? Or maybe he can find his happiness in this unrequited love too.

He moves nearer her and she looks up at the sound of his footsteps. A small smile graces her lips and he smiles back, handing her her coffee mug before sitting beside her.

"Mikael?"

He hums, knowing what is awaiting him.

"So, will you marry me?"

"Only if I get to ask something of you too."

She straightens in attention, stiffening. "Do you think of me as unfaithful to my husband and you're afraid I might--"

"Shush, no, of course not." He gazes at her solemnly but lovingly. "I trust you, doctor, very much so."

"Then tell me whatever it is that you want of me."

"I want you to trust me too, with all your heart."

Her shoulders relax and lips ever so slowly stretch into soft smile, agreeing to his condition silently with her. He leans back on one hand, tilting his face closer to hers.

"Can you be my once in a blue moon lover, doctor?"

"If you grant another wish of mine."

"Anything."

"Say," she cranes her neck as he loses himself into the black of her pupils, "Banafsha," she asks in a whisper and he grins, shaking his head in refusal.

"Your name is too holy for me, doctor-- too intimate. If I say it, there will be no going back for me. And if we cannot be, then it'll break me."

"You think we cannot be?"

"Life is unpredictable, remember? If there's any turn of events and you've a change of heart--"

"I won't," she interupts. "I've always fought for my dreams against every obstacle. You think I cannot fight for you if need be?"

He swallows, feeling turbulence in his blood as it pumps through him in exhilaration. "Then you're not alone; I'll fight for your love too, against everyone and everything. Just don't give up on us, okay?"

The sound of rain and thunder dissolves into void as she agrees, "Okay, Mikael."

☾

Surprise waiting in the next chapter. Who is ready for it?

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