With a surge of adrenaline, Yugh fought to pull Anisa to safety. As he grabbed her wrists and hauled her up, his own footing gave way on the loose earth. He stumbled but managed to regain his balance, yanking her onto solid ground with one final, desperate effort. The momentum sent them both crashing down; Yugh first, with Anisa tumbling on top of him. š
For a suspended moment, they lay there, breathless and stunned, staring into each other's wide eyes. The terror, the closeness, the sudden safety, it created a silent, charged space between them. Then, reality snapped back. Anisa quickly rolled off and scrambled to her feet. Yugh followed, wincing as he stood; his right elbow was scraped and bleeding from the impact.
"Thank you, Yugh. I was so scared," Anisa said, her voice still shaky as she looked at him, her gratitude genuine and profound. š
"It's nothing, really. But from now on, watch where you're walking, will you?" he replied, a faint, relieved smile touching his lips despite the pain in his arm.
They made their way back to the festival grounds, where the two live paintings were nearing completion. Throwing themselves into their supervisory roles, they worked with a renewed, almost urgent focus, using the familiar routine to mask the lingering shock and the strange intimacy of the rescue. š
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Hasan had taken his fill from Asifa, manipulating her for his own gratification, indifferent to her pained whimpers which he simply chose to ignore. He used her body as he wished, a convenient outlet for his desires.
Despite the physical discomfort it caused her, Asifa remained content. Her happiness stemmed solely from his proximity. She constantly sought to be near him, to please him, interpreting his attention,however self-serving and rough,as proof of his love. Her devotion was a stark, tragic contrast tohis cold exploitation, a one-sided affection blinding her to the reality of their dynamic. š¬