Web of Love

Suraya paused outside the door and cast a discreet glance towards Azlan’s room to her right. Is he really asleep? She closed her eyes for moments as her inner self fought. Her yearning heart incited her to hurry towards the man who claimed it, while caution urged her to ignore Kamal’s request to meet and head back into the safety of the room. He’ll understand.... A figure moving in the muted shadows on the balcony to her left summoned her attention and excited her senses. She couldn’t clearly make out his face, but knew he was staring at her, willing her to go to him. She weakened under his unmet, yet pulling gaze, and without realising, her bare feet made silent steps towards him. Kamal straightened from his leaning stance against the beam. “I thought you wouldn’t come,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I dare to.” While tremors filled her voice, she drank the sight of him—tall and composed in baju Melayu, despite the graveness of the situation. Its white colour turned soft gray in the dim lighting. She always loved guys in the traditional suit, especially the one who was standing right in front of her. He looked prim yet seductive, gentle yet overpowering. Holding her gaze, his eyes emitted a subtle glow. Soft music playing low in the background provided the right ambience. It dissolved her wariness, and at the same time increased the intensity of his aura as he moved nearer and reached for her hands. She welcomed the warmth seeping from his palms to hers. “Would you like to dance?” Teasing glints swam in his eyes. “What?” Suraya cupped her mouth when a soft chuckle escaped her. She glanced about, and as uneasiness crept back, stepped away, out of his grasp. “Some other time, maybe. You know we shouldn’t do this.” She paced to the edge of the flooring and lowered herself at the top of the steps leading to the garden. “You better stay there,” she quickly said when Kamal started to move. He paused, then came to sit about two feet away from her. “Is this safe enough?” A smile laced his tone. He drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. The night breeze swept by and kissed her bare lower arms. She rubbed and crossed them over her chest. Leaning back, she shook her head on impulse as thoughts of the warmth his arms could provide invaded her senses. “Cold?” He must have read her mind. “Hmm, but it’s nice.” In the stillness of the night, awareness of him reigned stronger. She scanned the view before her instead. “Nice garden too. Did you plant all these yourself?” “Most of them, yes. Umi said I inherited her good hands. But she’s the one nurturing them as I’m seldom home.” “Why only white flowers?” “I love the purity of white, and its combination with green is truly refreshing. But lately, I’ve been thinking of adding some colours.” She pushed back her hair and turned his way. “Why?” Another teasing gleam lurked in his eyes. “I’ll let you guess.” “Um ... to be fair to other colours?” He snickered. “Very funny.” Suraya could guess the reason and wished she could be freely overjoyed. Kamal continued to observe her. “What’s your favourite colour?” “Nothing in particular. Pastel shades, warm tones. Whatever suits the occasion.” A momentary silence passed, before she lifted her gaze towards him again. They regarded each other, and the awareness of their conflicting situation mounted. She inhaled to calm the tremors rising within her. “Kamal, what’s going to happen? How are we—” “Shh....” He reached out and placed a finger against her lips. “Let’s just have a wonderful talk on this beautiful and precious night.” His fingers curled under her chin while his thumb traced the contour of her lips. She caught hold of his hand and placed it on his knee. He, in turn, grasped hers and bent to press his lips upon it. His bowed head invited a caress, yet she stilled herself against it. She gently pulled back her hand and scanned the shadowed balcony. Her gaze rested on the easel. “When was the last time you painted?” Chin on his knees, Kamal lifted his eyes. “The rose I gave you.” “It’s pricelessly beautiful. Thanks again.” “Where do you put it?” “My bedside. I can see it and read your words every night.” “Thanks for treasuring it. I dream to do a portrait of you, one day.” A flush spread through her, and her eyes moistened. “I hope the day will come.” “Keep your faith strong,” he stressed. She blinked back another rush of moisture. “It’s you who needs to be much stronger.” She knew she would depend largely on him to do whatever was best. “Insyaallah, and with your love.” It was love that caused her heart to instantly swell with warmth. “You already have it.” “All of it?” “All that I could give.” “I want to hold you.” Again, Suraya sucked in the fragrant night air to douse the rush of excitement caused by his whispered words. She sent him a tender glance. “And I should go, really.” Her gaze strayed about again. “I don’t feel comfortable.” “I know.” Kamal let out a long sigh. “Okay....” She rose, took a step and paused by his side. He caught her hand and kissed her fingers again. “Goodnight, sayang.” Another rush of thrills coursed through her. Ah ... this must be how I'm supposed to feel being in love. As she waited for Kamal to rise to his feet, he added, “I better remain seated.” Suraya smiled and fought the urge to bend towards him. She touched his cheek, whispered, “Night,” and hurried back to her room.