the timeline in which they gain everything they want, except for the thing they wanted the most.
𝐙𝐄𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐁'𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐊 pierces through the heavenly-looking meat on her plate with impeccable precision . as she lifts the bite-sized piece to her mouth , her eyes drift wistfully to the bride and groom . her best friend’s , her sister’s son marrying . she’d never so much as thought this possible , and yet there he stood — he and his wife , two halves of one whole , their beauty akin to an image teetering on the edge of an artist’s mind , waiting to be poured out onto a canvas , and their happiness seemingly unmatched — a happiness she has never known , and most probably never will . she has remained on her own for far too long now . the splendor , the ideas , the work , it all came easily — and yet she is still left longing for more , the hole that remained in her heart after her father’s death had ripped it apart remaining , its edges still dripping with blood .
❛ lady zeynab! ❜ the bride chirps , walking up to her seat . ❛ would you be so kind as to honor our new union and read some work of yours? i’ve simply been yearning to hear it for far too long . something romantic , perhaps? ❜
zeynab smiles , accentuating the wrinkles time had left at the edges of her eyes , and stands up . ❛ of course , my dear . i do think you will like this one , it is about a great yet forbidden love . . . ❜