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انة کانا بي حفيان

And my Lord has always been kind to me

{Quran 19:47}

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A week had passed working in the adult wards. A week had also passed since the unfateful night in the park. The cuff on my wrist was a dear reminder of that night.

The night where I felt exposed. After his derogatory words a different type of hate bloomed for him. No bloomed would be too nice a way of putting it. Burned. Yes. The hate that I had for him burned through every vein in my body.

I don't know what it was but he set me afire. Just the thought of him would make me shiver in my boots and run to the secluded, darkest corner of my mind.

"Laila. Que hora es" Antoinette said in that soothing voice of hers. I looked away from the documents at my watch.

" Tres treinta y cinco" I mumbled smiling at my Spanish. Antoinette looked up beaming at me with that mother like nature of hers.

"Bien bien" she nodded happily, whilst going through different documents of the patients I have.

"Tu español esta mejorando"

"Gracias Antoinette" I beamed back at her. Finally, I could somewhat say phrases in spanish so fluently. If this is what one month of spanish in Spain can do, I wonder how I'll be at the end of six months!

The next five minutes or so we're spent looking through files and health records of the patients assigned to me. Antoinette said she needed to head out for a few minutes as someone came for her. I nodded half heartedly, continuing to look through the records.

Humming to myself, I put them away into my file, getting ready to leave for the adult quarters. But something stopped me in my tracks. More like someone. What was he doing here again?

I'm presuming this is who Antoinette wanted to visit.

The devil looked down at Antoinette, enveloping her short form in his huge form. I couldn't help but chuckle internally at the sight before me. It looked like a monster was about to pounce on an angel.

They soon broke apart from each other. I looked away from them before the demons wondering gaze could catch mine. I attempted to be furiously infused in the records before me.

I could feel the weight of his gaze. Underneath my scarf, I was sweating. Without turning their way, I walked away shutting my eyes tightly while I did so, hoping he didn't know that I knew that he was there.

I walked in the hallway, which was empty like usual. Unlike the hallway leading towards the kids wards, this one was less crowded, if I could even call it that. Although I'd hardly say two doctors littering around was called crowded.

I was in my own world, blindly walking whilst looking at the reports that I failed to act fast enough towards the hand which snaked around my waist. Astaghfirullah. That familiar cologne wafted in my nose, immediately notifying me of his presence.

An uncontrollable whimper left my mouth as the two doctors had rounded the corner out of sight, unaware of what was happening.

"Now where were you running off to?" His deep voice vibrated against my hijab clad ear. I tried freeing myself from his tight hold but it was impossible. I could feel every part of his front against my back, and I didn't like it one bit.

I didn't realise I'd been transported to a dark room with all my struggle. His hand from my mouth had been removed, and was replaced by the cold. I was now shivering whether it be from the cold or the deja vu of my situation, I do not know.

I looked at him on alert, knowing the last time this happened I was almost choked to death.

His eyes roamed over my face, scrutinising every imperfection I had. With just a look from him left me in a breathless state and not in a good way. His gaze painfully and shamelessly went along my body, stopping at my hand. I squirmed in my stand, not liking this one bit.

Couldn't he see the hijab on my head? Didn't he know I preserved my modesty from prying eyes like his.

Lifting my wrist in the air, he held my hand in front of his face. His eyes gleamed at the sight before him.

"Let go" I said, glad I didn't stutter for once in front of him. I attempted to break my hand free from him, but that just resulted in him tightening his grip. Enough to stop me moving.

My poor wrists. What did they ever do to him.

"I do not have time for your silly games" he growled, his voice low and formidable. Well guess what you brute, neither do I!

"You will listen to me, and listen well you will" he retorted letting go of my wrist as if I burned him. I staggered back from his powerful push.

He turned away from me, his hands in his pocket. I could see somewhat of his features through the light escaping from the hallway.

My gaze alternated between the door and his back. Would he notice if I left. With slow and steady steps, I tiptoed to the door. Looking back at him, he seemed to be deep in thought as his hand occasionally went to his mouth. A cigarette in there I'm presuming.

I could almost taste freedom on my tongue. I wanted out from here and the image of him choking me the last time this happened added fuel to my confidence.

I silently thank Allah the door did not creak as I opened it at the pace of a snail. Suddenly, a strong veiny hand smacked the door shut with a loud bang causing me to jump in my skin, my eyes as wide as saucers.

I was roughly turned around and held against the door in a vice like grip. The handle was edging into my back the more the devil leaned forward causing me to gasp out in pain.

My eyes burned alongside the pain, rendering me unable to think properly. I didn't realise the demon was now chest to chest with me, his eyes merciless.

"S-stop you're hurting me. Get away!" But my pleas fell on deaf ears. If anything he responded by aligning his face with my red, teary one.

"I do not care. Listen carefully to me putta. The letters, which were sent to you. Do you have them" he growled out, leaving no room for argument.

I tried moving myself away from the handle, my back paining in protest. The demon noticed this and gripped my forearms in a lock, pulling me towards him. Now there was no space left between us.

I sighed out in relief as I was no longer in pain, but soon this relief turned to awareness. Awareness of his body against mine. Awareness of the smoke emitting from around him.

I struggled out of his grip and thankfully he let me.

"W-what letters" I questioned. Was he talking about the ones he sent me.

"You know exactly which ones. I want them by tonight"

"What makes you so sure I have them" I questioned. He must think I'm sad keeping the letters he sent me.

"Oh I know so" he grinned an evil grin, nodding whilst taking a drag of the cigarette. I scrunched my nose, not liking the smell one bit and the fact that he's smoking in a hospital!

"Okay. How will I give them to you?"

"I'll meet you at the park at ten. If you're not there within ten minutes, my men just need a simple sign" he motioned with his hand a gun, bringing it up to my forehead.

"Boom" he smirked.

My blood ran cold.

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