A hug

"You, what are you doing here"

The woman jolted awake and shouted at the person standing at the door.

 The man at the door stepped forward, his face etched with worry. "She is back... She is back from prison."

 her heart pounded in her chest."How is that possible isn't she in the cell for life imprisonment? How could she possibly return? You must be mistaken."

 he shook his head, his expression resolute."No, my informant can't be wrong."  His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed his anxiety.

With unsteady steps, he moved to the bed and wrapped his arms around the terrified middle-aged woman.

She trembled uncontrollably, the breath coming in short, panicked gasped, Words failed her as the weight of he husband's revelation sank in.

In the dark corner of the room, the woman in black sneered, her eyes glintered with disdain. She lurched away silently uninterested in the conversation behind her.

She entered a vast library, the air thick with the scent of old books. Thousand of volumes lined the shelves, waiting for someone to uncover their secrets. She moved with purpose, pulling out book number 1017, an old romantic novel. She wasn't here to read. Shaking the book vigorously, a piece of paper fluttered out. She fought it gently, her frown deepening as she saw it was blank.

After a careful inspection, she turned towards the villa's old abandoned study. The room was dark and dusty, but the brown furnishings demonstrated the intelligence of the former occupant. She ran her finger over the study table, feeling a connection to the past.

She has no recollection of anything belonging to the person who used to devour the most valuable time and make every powerful decision here, but she felt the presence. A drop of tears slipped from her cheeks to her chin and fell on the floor. She had no idea when a single drop turned into rain and she slid down on her knees. With both hands, she tried to quell her sobs but endeavoured again and again, she still failed to hold back. She knew she could not lose herself in the wolf and tiger den, but her heart was as stubborn as a mule, refusing to listen to her brain and sobbing instead.

"Sorry ….. Dad, I am sorry."

Only a single sentence left her lips in her sorry state.

Wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, she stood up, her posture firm. But her eyes were wet and red,  She opened a drawer in the table, revealing an array of colourful bottles. She took out the small bottle of liquid and spread it on the blank paper. As the paper dried, words began to appear. She was right.

She hurried back to the library,  pulling out books from the middle row. Gathering ten more blank sheets, she returned to the study and repeated the process. Words emerged t on those papers, gradually revealing secrets that left her both depressed and determined. And she vowed she would not let anyone go unharmed.

She slipped out of the mansion quietly and quickly, moving ahead. Her movements were clean and smooth.

The night was dark and cold, with the pale moon and street lights creating a chiaroscuro effect on tall buildings that remained as lonely as ever. Standing under the shadow, an aristocratic face appeared in her mind and she wondered if he was still inside the building.

On the top floor, the man stood at the French window, a cigarette poised between his fingers, waiting to be lit. He stared into the void night, the emptiness in his eyes deepening as the pale moon slipped behind the menace.

His gaze drifted to the dark street below, and an angelic face surfaced in his thoughts. He wondered where she was, feeling as if her purple eyes were watching him from afar. Despite the impossibility of seeing anyone in the dead of the night, he sensed her presence, waiting for him to descend.

 His mind drifted back to years ago when his phone turned off and he was nowhere to be found. She had waited in the night, dark and cold, with a drizzle adding to the chill. The pale moon and streetlights cast eerie shadows on the tall lonely buildings. She stood there, under the building.

 Now, years later, the night was still cold dark and drizzling. His body moved faster than his mind, and before he knew it, he was outside. She stood there in a thin white dress, her lustrous hair floating in the air, and she was shuddering, as if she had been there for years. Her face, paler than the moon. He could not wait any longer.

He rushed forward, wrapped her in his strong arms, holding tightly, refusing to let her fall or run again. He had waited, waited years for this moment. He felt her cold body and constricted his grip. Burring his face deep into her neck, he closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her hair. A warm liquid left his eyes and he couldn't tell if it was a raindrop or his tear. He did not want to cry for her, didn't want to hold her, but his mind and his heart were at odds. His heart vetoed to listen to his mind and the hater and malice he regaled for years frazzled in a flash. He thoroughly lost himself to her.

The woman in his arm sobbed, her cold and shuddering body convulsing a little more and he heard her soft whisper,

"Iden…I …I missed you…"her voice quivered as her cold arms circled his west resting her head on his chest.

He too missed her, missed her so much that he lost all sense of existence. "Ellaya…"

He whispered back in her ear. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. Their gaze locked, and the cold night seemed to freeze even further. A raindrop mingled with their tears and fell.