23| My Queen

As promised, the second update. This one I dedicate to _Anonymous19 for being an amazing reader. I love her comments. ❤ shoutout to you girl! Love you😘

M Y Q U E E N

A silence builds, as they both think about the obvious. They were almost naked. In a lake. Doing nothing untoward. Hayat tried to search her mind for some random but sane question to break the silence.

She needed to say something fast. Tayyab looked around casually, avoiding looking at her.

But all of the topics racing through her mind were terribly inappropriate.

She had wanted to know if he remembered her from their first meeting but she couldn't find the courage to.

What else could she ask?

She could ask him how many lovers he'd had?

Had he kissed Meher? Could she ask him that?

Or would it sound too desperate?

But the silence was killing her.

Ask something.

Anything.

"Are you a virgin?" she almost blurted out and immediately wanted to force the words back into her mouth.

Well done, Hayat!

He seemed amused. "Yes!" she wondered if he'd ask her the same question but he didn't, as if he was scared of the answer he'd receive.

"Are you enjoying it here?" He asked her.

"Yes absolutely!" Hayat grinned and an answering smile conquered his lips immediately. "What is it that you want to do? What's in your bucket list?" Tayyab asked, looking down at the water, watching droplets fall from his fingers.

"I wanted to see the milaan. I've seen it from far. We were not allowed and none of my family members would help me sneak in. I tried to sneak in before the day of my marriage.." She paused, watching for any reaction but he showed none. Tayyab was perhaps the best listener she'd ever encountered. He could be so still, his shadows stilling with him. "But I never made it back then too." She says sadly.

"I've been there twice. I don't like crowded places so I mostly avoid it but I promise to take you there some day." Hayat had beamed. She really wanted to see the milaan.

"Meher, do you miss her?" At that a taut band of muscle flexed in his jaws and he dived right under water and reappeared a second later. Hayat watched the water droplets fall from his face and wet hair, that he combed back with his fingers for they were falling on his face.

Hayat wanted to help but she had wanted to smack the back of her head more for even letting such disgusting thoughts into her mind.

"Can I skip a question?"

"Sure you can. You are the prince." He smiled. Hayat didn't want to press him further. The weather was amazing and she wanted to enjoy it.

"What do you wish for Tayyab?" He closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, as if trying to savour the moment.

A moment later he opened his eyes, "I wish to turn back time." He neared her, his eyes blazing.

"I wish to meet you under some other circumstances." Hayat could hear the pounding of her own heart. "I wish.. You didn't hate me." His intense gaze forced her to avert hers, her cheeks coloring. He was quite a flirt.

But was she pretending? Or did he really made her blush?

She dived in copying him from a moment earlier and reappearing from under water seconds later.

She looked up to his eyes, combing her wet hair back, only to find him watching a drop of water slide down her shoulder. He coughed and looked away.

"Can I swim?" Hayat tried to change the subject.

"Certainly. But if I reach the other side of the lake before you do, you owe me an answer to any question I ask with absolute honestly."

"Deal," she says at the same time he springs for the other side.

Damn him.

He wins. He was faster than her.

"I want to know how you feel about me." Hayat was startled. I hate you. She wanted to say.

Liar. Her mind replied back. "I.. I.. Uh.." She was at a loss of words.

A spot of movement behind her on the hill catches his attention and he looks distracted.

"Who's that?" he asked, looking over her head.

"Is that one of your guards?" Hayat turns in place, looking back toward the shore and the hefty remains of their clothes still left there.

"No," he says with dread. Hayat had panicked.

"Hurry out! Get dressed." Tayyab cleaves the water in wide strokes as he draws closer to shore, toward the figure hovering behind the bushes of the hill. She thinks it's a man, but it's difficult to tell with the attire he wore.

Needing no further prompting, she swims for the shore behind him, wringing out her hair, trying to shake the droplets of water from her skin. Her clothes don't go on easily. Everything was tight, unwilling to slide over her wet skin. After much struggling, she finally got herself covered up and raced after Tayyab who had only tied his sheath around the waist and didn't bother to wear the Qamis.

A cloaked figure appears out of the bush at the foot of the hill and another similarly dressed man appears behind him, followed by another and another, until five of them paced ahead. A hood concealed their faces, disguising their identity.

Without another word, the attackers leap onto the plains, Hayat felt the fear leech its way onto her heart . . . felt it tug at the corners of her eyes and mouth.

She began scanning everyone in sight for a quiver or a possible bow left strewn against their back, but all she saw was the occasional shimmer of a dagger or the hilt of a sword. In the distance, she noticed one of them, a burly man with a huge, straightbacked bow across his body, but she knew there was little chance of getting it from him. And it was even less likely that she could draw an arrow on such a large bow. And out of everything, was she ready to kill?

She had only started learning archery today and she was not very good at sword fighting either. It was one thing to learn defense and an entire different thing to kill someone in defense. She wasn't prepared for it. Fear of watching dead bodies once again had her shudder. Fear of watching blood pool around her made her feel dizzy.

The thing that truly had her pause was the reaction of her husband.

At the first hint of an unforeseen threat, he pulled Hayat behind him. He shielded her in a menacing stance augmented by the metallic rasp of his sword, which he held steady in his right hand, with the blade pointed to the floor-Poised to attack.

The young prince's usually expressionless face was drawn and tight, with signs of barely leashed fury rippling along his jaw. His eyes blazed like molten rock, livid and single-minded in their purpose.

And Hayat's will fought him, screamed a silent scream, while her heart welcomed the intrusion as a songbird welcomes the dawn.

At the sight of Tayyab with his sword at the ready, three of them withdrew their own piecemeal weapons.The mammoth bandits neared them, flashing a silver blade and a guise of punishing promise.

Hayat grabbed Tayyab's shoulder. "Tayyab!" She cried. "You can't defeat them alone." She said but Tayyab didn't waver. She immediately felt stupid. She remembered how he had performed on the day of the tournament.

The intruders shared a dubious look.

This was not a bored, dispassionate prince who sent his wife to fight his battles. He was not the prince, who depended on his guards for protection.

This was definitely something more.

Something they needed time to consider.

And time . . . to rip out his heart, in kind.

But then their leader grinned, running his fingers through his hair.

"Give us everything valuable and we might spare you." He raised his sword across his body and stepped toward Tayyab.

"Do you realize who you are talking to?" Tayyab roared but none of them backed. "We don't care. We need the gold. Give us the rings." One of them said pointing at her fingers.

"Step aside all of you and I promise to not hurt any one. Once you start a fight, I'll end it. So I am warning you again, step aside." Tayyab repeated in a harsh voice. Two of them shared a dreadful look but didn't retreat.

"Kill them both." The man in the front says, his voice unusually deep, as though he's trying to mask its true timbre.

"Please stop it." Hayat's chest rose and fell in a panic.

"Please Tayyab. Don't kill them. I'll give my rings." Hayat's tone verged on desperation and it made them mock her. She wanted to avoid the blood bath. She didn't want the memories to come back to spook and haunt her once again.

"Hayat. I've heard enough." Tayyab said with deadly inflection.

"Yes. Let him do as he pleases, Hayat. Five to one? I like our odds," the imbecile laughed with mirthless humor.

You have no idea what you're saying. The best swordsman in Hudaan will cut you down, one by one. Without hesitation. She wanted to say.

Then the imbecile lifted his rusted scimitar from its sheath.

The archer drew an arrow and shot it at Tayyab, Tayyab dodged it pushing her further aside.

"No!" she cried as the bandit nocked another arrow and fired it at Tayyab. He dodged it again but this time, he caught the flying arrow mid air without even flinching. He then broke it into two halves and threw it aside.

Hayat saw the fear in the eyes of the bandit. One of them took a step back. Hayat looked around for the guards but couldn't find anybody.

The other intruder unsheathed his sword and charged at Tayyab. Tayyab took him down with a single blow. For some reason he avoided using his blade. The blow was enough to knock the man. One of the bandits, the one who had been holding the bow and arrow, ran to attack but half way through his courage faltered and he dropped his bow before running back up the hills.

Hayat had smirked. She felt the adrenaline kick in.

The other man grunted in fury and flourished his weapon, easing low into a fighting stance.

Tayyab advanced too, this time he lifted his sword, its silver edge glistening with menace. When he walked towards the two bandits, he pushed back the bow and arrow with his legs. It landed a couple of meters ahead of Hayat.

She had immediately lunged at it. Pulling out the arrow and fitting it to the string, raising it beside her ear, just the way she had been taught that morning. Her heart was pounding fast. She had to do something.

You can do it. You can do it.

She let go of the string, the arrow went flying but fell before it even reached the other bandit. He only laughed, mocking her.

Tayyab had been fighting the leader, tackling his attacks whilst attacking him too.

The other one casually strode toward Hayat, presuming she was futile.

At that, Hayat nocked an arrow to the sinew. She pulled the strings back with all her strength and loosed it, all in one swift motion. It flew in a perfect spiral, despite the bow's humble origins and the arrow's mud-stained fletchings.

It pierced clean through the bandit's wrist. Hayat could have jumped with happiness. She had finally done it. However it distracted Tayyab, his eyes gleamed with approval, but it gave the leader enough time to almost hit him.

The bandit she'd injured howled in agony, dropping the scimitar to the ground with a resounding clang.

Hayat had fitted and nocked another arrow onto the string. She tried aiming it at the leader but she knew she wasn't perfect and she could have hit Tayyab instead.

When the injured bandit charged at her with fury, she aimed at him again and let go of the string.

The arrow didn't reach him. It fell before it hit it's target. Hayat panicked as the man laughed.

She tried to reach for another arrow whilst moving back but that was it. There were none.

"Do not come near me." Her knees shook, but her voice was as cool as a stone beneath the water.

The bandit seized Hayat by the wrist ignoring her threats and hauled her to himself. He withdrew his talwar from its scabbard with the shrill grate of metal on metal.

He pressed his blade on her neck, without putting enough strength to draw blood. "Leave him or she dies." He panted from behind her.

Almost immediately Tayyab came to a halt. The leader who had been severely injured with all the fresh bruises on his face, his hood lying far away from him, smiled triumphantly, as if they had won the battle.

"Do no hurt her. Or I swear I'll tear you apart." Tayyab warned, and for the first time Hayat saw panic grip him hard, she could have sworn, if she was the bandit. She'd run for her life.

"Drop your weapon, both of you." The bandit urged but Tayyab stared for a second.. The bandit pressed the sharp edge of his blade on her neck drawing a trail of blood as it pierced through her delicate skin.

Tayyab dropped his sword, his fist clenched beside him. Hayat dropped the bow that she had been holding too.

The leader took advantage of the situation and punched Tayyab's face, he stumbled back but didn't fall, his jaws set into a straight line.

"A love sick puppy." The leader guffawed and the bandit behind her laughed too. He wasn't using his injured hand.

Tayyab only stared at the trail of blood that flowed down her neck, she knew he tried to contain his fury for her.

"Let go of her. And you can do whatever you want to me."

"Too bad. You are not in the position to bargain grumpy."

Hayat's mind was racing with the possibilities. Was there any way out of this mess. Was there anything she'd learnt in her lessons that might come handy. Any move.

The regret that she saw in Tayyab's eyes was disturbing and unnerving. She wanted to make it go away.

She thought of every sword fight she'd had with Tayyab.

Realisation dawned upon her almost immediately.

The Hayat move! She could use it.

She knew she had only one chance to strike him back with her elbow and she had to do it with all the courage and strength that she could muster.

She inhaled deeply before she convoked every ounce of strength and shoved him back with full force, luckily her elbow came in contact with his injured wrist.

He grasped his arrow-skewered wrist. His face was contorted with fury and the anguish of a man bested in all ways. Tears of pain trickled down his cheeks, and a glimmer of crimson stained his forearm.

Gritting his teeth against the sting, he snarled, "Have a care, grumpy. Before she ruins you, too." He dived into the lake behind her, choking on his wounds. He swam accross the lake, trying to flee for he realised he didn't stand a chance.

The leader stared in bewilderment. In one single movement Tayyab snapped his neck. His limp body fell on the ground instantly.

Dead.

Hayat had felt the tips of her fingers go numb. She stood frozen trying to ignore the picture in front of her.

Tayyab had strode towards her in fury. She stared at his chest when he stood in front of her. He lifted her chin, scrutinizing the cut on her neck and that's when she felt the burning sensation on the cut.

"Ahhh!" She sucked in a sharp breath. Tayyab's expressions were a devoid of emotion. "I am fine." She tried to assure him but he didn't listen.

"Let's leave." He held her hand in his and walked back to where the horses were. He looked back after every few step to have a look at her, as if in constant fear that she'd vanish.

*******

"How the hell did he get past you?" Tayyab shouts at the four men surrounding their horse. One of them returned, carrying a bouquet of wildflowers he likely meant to take home to a sweetheart. But Tayyab pays him no mind. "You are paid for one job. To protect the royal family. And you failed. How? What the hell were you all doing?"

One of the men turn toward her.

"You can hardly blame us, sire. We wanted to give you privacy." He said.

"We were unprepared for the ... um ... distraction," he further points, looking at her weirdly but Tayyab was beyond furious.

He stepped forward, drew his sword, and puts it through the one who spoke.

"Anyone else wishes to offer up excuses?" Tayyab asks in a quiet voice.

No one says a word.

The man looks down at the rapier stuck in his gut, eyes wide.

Hayat had almost stopped breathing.

This was the cruel prince that she'd heard of, that she had witnessed long back, that she had grown to hate. The trauma of her past rushed back in full force, pushing aside any other feeling far, far away.

He fell as Tayyab draws his sword back out.

She is reminded of her parents, Ahmer and the last breaths he took. A pool of bood oozed out of his neck.

The rest of the guards step back, likely worried that they'll be next.

"You." Tayyab points to one of the guards. "One of the bandits has been knocked out. Get him to Zindaan."

All the air left Hayat's body in a single rush of comprehension when the pungent smell of blood filled her nostrils. She stared at the dead man, picturing it as her parents body, her lovers body. Disgusted, she felt the bile rise in her throat, as she swayed unsteady on her feet and walked back, before she fell to the ground vomiting out the contents of her lunch.

Tayyab was crouching beside her in a moment, he held her hair back but Hayat didn't want to be touched by him, so she shoved him away. It was futile because he was back, holding back her hair from falling all around her face once again.

Hayat's head was swirling. She felt too weak. She was living a nightmare.

His eyes narrowed as he began to realize, "I am so sorry Hayat. I just forgot about it. You shouldn't have seen it. I am sorry." He kept on apologizing relentlessly, while holding her hair in one hand, and lightly stroking her back with his other hand. She wanted to push him away but failed to gather any ounce of strength.

When she was done vomiting, she was panting hard as if she'd run a marathon.

"Water." Tayyab commanded and one of the guards handed him a flask. He poured some water in his hand and splashed it accross her face, passing his hands over her mouth without any emotion of disgust.

"This is all my fault." He gritted his teeth. She tried to get up but black dots filled her vision and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stay awake.

She either fainted into his arms, or slept from exhaustion. She had no clue.

*****

Tayyab's guards were on edge and much too close.

Their glaring torches and clattering footfall were not doing service to the torturous ache in his head. Nor were they of benefit to the fire that battled for dominion over his eyes.

When a nervous sentry dropped his sword with a noise to rouse the dead, Umar knew, it took all of Tayyab's willpower not to snap the young man's arm from his shoulder.

Instead, Tayyab paused in the darkened corridor and pressed his palms to his brows.

"Leave," he grumbled to his guards.

"Sayyidi-"

"Leave!" Tayyab's temples pounded as the word reverberated down the halls.

The guards glanced at one another before bowing and taking their leave.

Umar remained against the wall in somber watchfulness.

"That was rather childish," he chastised, once the soldiers had turned the corner.

"You are free to leave, as well." Tayyab resumed his trek toward Hayat's chamber.

Umar cut in front of him. "You look terrible. I heard what happened today." His eyes were bright, and his forehead was lined with worry.

Tayyab stared back at him, calm and aloof. "I suppose you expect me to confide in you, following your honest assessment of a rather obvious condition. Forgive me, but I've had a horrible evening, general."

"What are you trying to do? I'm truly concerned Tayyab."

Tayyab feigned bemusement. "Don't be."

"If you refuse to talk about what happened today, or what's been happening for the past couple of days, I must continue to press the matter."

"And you will be met with disappointment at every turn."

"No. I won't." Umar folded his arms across his chest. "You are a disaster. You are being impulsive, and you nearly ripped that poor boy's head off for dropping his sword."

"The boy was stumbling about, wielding an unsheathed blade. I find it fortunate he didn't trip and impale himself on the cold steel of his own stupidity."

"Your sarcasm gets more brutal with age. And with arrogance. It's not nearly as entertaining now." Tayyab glowered at his friend. The blood pulsed along his neck and thrummed in his temples. Each beat blurred the lines of his vision.

"How is she?"

"I don't know. I've just pushed her away. Far away." He shoved past Umar.

"Do you realize you put the entire al qasr and your kingdom at risk when you make reckless decisions. Decisions that you've been thinking into emotionally these days. You could have died today when you unarmed yourself for her, and you would have left Hudaan without a future. With the kind of decisions that you've been making, we are on the brink of potential war with the Rebels." He paused pointedly. "All for the sake of a girl-one of so many."

At that, the frayed strands of Tayyab's composure tore apart, and he turned the full force of his fury onto Umar, whirling around and freeing his sword from its scabbard in a single, fluid motion. He raised the curved edge of the blade until it was positioned a hairsbreadth from Umar's heart.

Umar stood still, his serenity at odds with the situation. "You must love her a great deal, Tayyab." Tayyab's nostrils had flared as he tried to calm himself down.

After a beat, he lowered his sword, his brow marred by pain and consternation. "Love is- perhaps a shade of what I feel for her."

Umar grinned, but it did not reach his eyes. "As your friend, I'm glad to hear it. But, as a general, I would be lying if I told you I ain't alarmed by recent events. You are not responsible to only one girl."

"I'm aware of that." Tayyab sheathed his sword.

"I'm not so certain you are. If you plan on behaving is such a heedless fashion, I think it's time to tell Hayat the truth. The truth about her life. Truth about everything she has ever believed in."

"I disagree; Hayat can never know. I will not watch her break. I will not burst her bubble of happiness and love. Therefore, this discussion is over." Tayyab strode down the corridor once more, and Umar walked at his side.

"If you are willing to die for her, then it's time you tell her everything about Ahmer the least," Umar pressed in a quiet voice.

"No."

He reached for Tayyab's shoulder. "Tell her, Tayyab. She has a right to know."

"And how would you react to such news?" Tayyab shoved his hand aside. "To the knowledge that everything you've ever believed in was a lie, was a sham. That her life is at so much risk right now."

"My life is at risk every day. As is yours. Something tells me Hayat does not live in a world that denies this fact."

Tayyab's eyebrows flattened. "It doesn't matter. I'm not ready to tell her."

"And you never will be. Because you love her, and we fight to protect those we love." Umar halted by the corridor leading to Hayat's chamber, Tayyab paused a moment later, "See that all the men who accompanied us on our outing are hanged."

Tayyab then advanced down the marble and stone without a glance in his direction.

******

Hayat wanted her mother's soothing voice and her father's volume of poetry. She wanted her mother's bright smile and infectious laugh.

She wanted her own bed and a night when she could sleep without the fear of dawn.

And she wanted Ahmer. She wanted to fall into his arms and feel the laughter rumble in his chest when she said something very wrong that sounded exactly right. Perhaps it was weakness, but she needed someone to take the weight off her shoulders for a moment. To ease the burden, as Ahmer had done the day her pet cat died, when he'd found her sitting alone near the lake behind her house, crying.

That day, he'd held both her hands in his and said nothing. Just drawn her pain away, with the simple strength of his touch.

Ahmer could have done that again. He would have gladly done that.

For her.

She will not leave you! Revenge will be served.

Ahmer's last words had echoed throughout her mind. She felt ashamed of herself, of the way she had started to feel for her lover's killer. She didn't deserve Ahmer. He deserved someone better, someone who'd avenge his death with sincerity.

It had been a couple of hours since she was finally awake and had felt better. She had taken a bath to rub off the smell of vomit from her body.

But it was almost as if she had been pushed back in time. Her thoughts were a chaos.

She had no clue, how she could manage to talk to Tayyab without feeling nauseated.

Leila was bombarding her with constant questions about her outing.

"I don't want to talk about it, Leila." Hayat finally said.

Leila nodded slowly and dragged the comb through Hayat's hair. The cut against her neck hurt, but Hayat said nothing.

There was a knock at the door.

"May I open it?" Leila asked.

Hayat raised an indifferent shoulder, and Leila placed the comb in Hayat's lap before she made her way to the double doors.

When she looked past the threshold, her heart crashed into her stomach.

The future Caliph of Hudaan shadowed her doorway.

Without a word, Leila exited the room, pulling the doors shut behind her.

Hayat stayed at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the comb in her lap, staring down her husband.

As he drew closer, she saw the mark across his face where the bandit had struck him. It colored his skin a deeper bronze, with a tinge of purple at his jawbone. His eyes were drawn and tired, as though he had not slept in a long while. The knuckles along his right fist were red and raw.

He returned her scrutiny, taking in the injury at her neck, the hollows beneath her eyes, and the wary posture of her spine.

"How is your wound?" His voice was even and characteristically low.

"It hurts."

"A great deal?"

"I'm sure it won't kill me like it did to the guard."

It was a pointed jab, and Hayat saw it strike a chord, his careful composure falling for an instant. He strode to the foot of the bed and sat beside her. She shifted uncomfortably at his proximity.

Hayat expelled a caustic breath and looked him in the eye.

His chest rose and fell in steady consideration. Then he reached up and brushed aside her hair. With great care, he touched the slender column of her throat.

Unnerved by the obvious concern on his face, Hayat drew back.

"Don't touch it." She pushed his hands away.

Flustered, she snatched the comb from her lap so she could finish untangling her hair-

And grimaced with pain. The intensity of the pain around her neck had only increased ever since she woke up. She had no clue how she ended up in her bed but it wouldn't take a genius to figure it out.

Tayyab had carried her to her chamber.

"Do you need help?" he asked.

"No. I do not."

He sighed. "I-"

"If I need help, I'll wait for Leila. In any case, I do not need your help." When she moved to stand, he caught her waist and pulled her back against him.

"Please, Hayat." He spoke into her still-damp hair. "Let me make amends."

The hammering in her chest grew as he wrapped his other arm around her, holding her close.

Don't.

"There are no excuses for what happened today. I didn't realise it earlier. Trust me I didn't want to make you go through it once again."

"Would you have spared his life if you had realised this earlier?" Hayat tried to control the tremor in her voice.

"No but I wouldn't have done it in front of you." she laughed sarcastically.

"Hayat you need to realise that these warriors protect the kingdom... They knew the kind of job they were in for when they trained. Several lives depend on them. They can't find an excuse for their short coming."

His breath fanned on her skin as he bent toward her ear. Hayat couldn't think of anything to say to him.

"Can you forgive me?" Hayat didn't answer but when she tilted her face upward, her eyes grew wide at what she saw.

His hands tightened at her waist. He lowered his head and pressed his brow to hers, his touch as soft and gentle as a whisper.

"My Zouja! Hayat um Hayat!" She felt herself leaning into him, bowing into his caress, telling herself that she was desperate, ignoring the fact that everything that she'd been telling herself flew out of the window the moment she saw him again.

He smelled of sandalwood and sunlight. Strange that she'd never noticed before-that in her desire to distance herself from him, she had not detected something so simple and yet so marked as a scent.

She inhaled, letting the clean fragrance clear her thoughts.

As he placed his palm against the side of her face, Hayat realized something horrifying.

She wanted to kiss him.

No.

How wonton could she be?

It was one thing to return his kiss; she'd been prepared for that ever since she planned on making him fall in love with her. But it was another thing entirely to want his kiss . . . another thing entirely to desire his affections. To melt into the arms of her family's killer at the first sign of adversity.

Weak.

She sat up in disgust, destroying the moment in a single action. "If you want to make amends, I will think of a way."

And it will not involve you touching me.

He withdrew his hands. "Good."

She stood up and faced him. "Good."

He rose to his feet, more than a head taller than Hayat. The veil of dispassion had returned, and it deepened the lines, as always.

"I'm sorry once again."

"It's fine." His eyes softened, almost imperceptibly. He bowed his head. Then he made his way to the door but paused.

"Hayat"

"Yes, sayyidi?" He walked back to where she stood.He then lifted her hand by the sleeves, to place her palm on the left of his chest, "here!" He said as Hayat gave him a puzzled look. "I'd gladly take an arrow for you right here, right through my heart. Anytime."Hayat felt her legs wobble beneath her. He had heard the exchange between Yousef, Ali and her.

"My queen." He then bowed again before he left, his fingertips to his brow.

Hayat closed her eyes tight, falling against the bed as soon as the doors shut behind him.

What the hell Was wrong with her?

How was it?

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