Chapter Text
Everyone knows that you're the master at hunting hearts
Despite his never-ending self-denial, he had to admit that her performance is, indeed, entertaining.
Watching as the dancer’s lithe body flexed up and down smoothly, her trademark braided hair swished back and forth as if it has a soul of its own, the earrings and numerous bracelets clanking as she told a tale with her whole being, shimmering under the stage lights and the audiences’ mesmerized gazes that followed her relentlessly.
Throw out a coy smile, or maybe few drops of tears, and she would have them all ensnared in her soundless tale. Got pulled out from reality.
What is this? A new affectation, torment, or flirting ?
At these times, he would dared himself to look at the obsidian pools that were her eyes. Some times, there were little stars in them, twinkling brightly, beckoning the others to follow in her light, smooth steps.
In other times, however, they were as dark and empty as an abyss, detached and closed off from the rest of the world, trapped in that one spot where the stage lights collided and left the surrounding area in complete darkness.
Then, after all the performance was over and the crowd dispersed, he would hear various voices as he walked away: her mischievous laugh when she managed to caught him off guard, her steeled voice when she drove to Hisar to save Ibrahim, her exasperated sigh when her hand received the cringe-worthy script for the propaganda, her small, almost pleading voice when she had asked him to be careful and not to die. They warred in his skull.
O heart, you’ve become a laughing-stock.
O heart, she enjoys tormenting you!
Blood red carnations bloomed on his dimple cheeks when he saw the scribbles he made on the pristine sheet.
"Ah, Mahmut, there you are!”
He quickly put the small notebook into his pocket when light footsteps approached him.