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The luxurious chambers of the Asim heir greeted Jamil with their familiar, heavy aroma of expensive incense, exotic spices, and a faint, lingering trace of sandalwood.
She had only been away for a single week—a rare, hard-fought vacation granted by the head of the family so she could finally visit her home.
Yet, the moment she stepped over the threshold, a suffocating sense of familiarity washed over her, making it feel as though she had been gone for at least a year.
Because Kalim was already flying toward her at full speed.
"Jamil! You're back!"
His joyful shout was so loud it seemed to make the heavy silk curtains by the massive windows shudder.
Before she could even set down her travel bag, the boy literally crashed into her, locking her in a suffocating, breathless embrace.
He smelled of the scorching sun, sweet sherbet, and that boundless, almost childish happiness that always made Jamil’s temples throb with an oncoming headache.
"Kalim, let go of me this instant. You’re going to crush me," she hissed habitually, straining her muscles as she tried to push him away with her arm.
But it was utterly useless. Kalim had missed her so desperately over the past week that he seemed to have discarded any remaining sense of shame, decorum, or boundaries.
"I missed you so much! You have no idea, Jamil! The chefs here don't even know how to slice fruit the way you do! And the magic carpet flew up onto the roof yesterday, and it took me three whole hours to call the servants to get it down! Oh, and... you just have to see this new dance I learned!"
Everything happened too fast. Instead of normal, measured steps, Kalim swept her into a wild, chaotic whirlwind of a dance. He moved completely unpredictably, doubling his energy as if trying to make up for a whole week of separation in just a few seconds.
"Look, look, this is the final step!" he exclaimed ecstatically and... abruptly dropped backward.
Jamil’s heart instantly sank. This unbearable boy had misjudged his footing and was dragging her down with him into a deep, risky dip right in the middle of the room.
They were surrounded by low, dark wood tables and gleaming golden cups. One wrong move and they would both smash their ribs against the floor—which was covered in plush carpets with golden embroidery, but still laid over hard, unforgiving marble.She had to react in a split second.
Jamil lunged forward, practically hovering over him with her entire body to cancel out his momentum. Her free hand gripped his shoulder in a death clutch, digging into the white fabric of his clothes, while her knee forcefully wedged between his legs to lock their balance and keep them from falling.
From the sudden, violent jolt, her long dark hair whipped up, a few strands falling across her face and tangling with Kalim’s light white attire.
Jamil breathed heavily, her teeth gritted tightly, her eyes burning with genuine, unadulterated irritation. A bead of sweat formed on her brow from the sheer physical strain of holding up his entire weight.
"Are you... an idiot, Kalim?" she gasped out, ready to tell him exactly what she thought of his "new dance" right then and there.
But her rage stumbled into a wall of absolute, disarming warmth.
Kalim wasn't laughing anymore. He lay back in her arms, his head slightly tilted so that the golden ribbon in his white hair shimmered softly in the sunlight, looking up at her from below.
A warm, mesmerized smile played on his lips, and there was not a single trace of his usual childish clinginess in his shining garnet eyes.
There was only a deep, tender affection and an immense sense of relief that she was finally back by his side.
His hand, still intertwined with hers, squeezed her fingers so gently, as if she were the greatest, most fragile treasure in all of Asim.
The vast, grandiose room seemed to dissolve around them. All that remained was his breath, way too close and uneven, and that unforgivably romantic gaze that somehow made Jamil's irritation melt away, replaced by a sudden, unfamiliar thumping in her chest.
The silence in the room became deafening. Jamil froze, still holding Kalim in that dangerous dip. She had planned to get furious, to lecture him thoroughly on safety, to remind him of the strict boundaries of their social standing... But that look shattered her carefully built, years-old mental armor. Kalim was looking at her as if nothing else in the entire world mattered.
Her heart gave a heavy, dull thud, and Jamil suddenly panicked that he might hear it through their pressed-together bodies. The cheeks of her feminine face burned with a sudden, traitorous blush.
"You're staring at me like a fool," she sharply exhaled, trying to force her voice back into its usual coldness, but it trembled betrayingly.
With a sudden surge of strength, Jamil yanked herself upward, pulling Kalim along with her to finally return them both to a vertical position and break that ambiguous contact.
She hastily let go of his shoulder and took a sharp step back, hiding her hand behind her back to conceal how finely her fingers were shaking—and not from physical exhaustion at all.
Her dark hair fell over her shoulders in a silken cascade as she abruptly turned away, pretending to be intensely interested in her travel bag resting on the floor.
"You need to grow up, Kalim. Your foolish antics are going to end in an injury one day. Either yours or mine," she stated sternly, trying to hide her erratic breathing behind a facade of business-like detachment.
She bent down, picked up her things, and headed toward the exit of the chambers, hoping to escape to her own room before the flush could completely stain her face.
But Kalim wouldn't be Kalim if he simply let her walk away.
"Jamil, wait!"
His footsteps sounded right behind her, soft and quick. The gold-embroidered carpet muffled them, but she already knew he was following.
He didn't pounce on her with another suffocating hug. Instead, the boy carefully stepped around her, blocking her path and looking directly into her face.
That same warm smile still hovered on his lips, but his eyes now held a slight, almost childish worry.
"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to drop you," he said softly but genuinely, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
The golden ribbon in his white hair swayed gently.
"It's just... the room felt so empty all week. Nothing feels right around here without you. I'm just really glad you're home."
He reached out and, barely touching her, gently tucked a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear.
His fingers were warm, and that fleeting, completely informal touch made Jamil freeze in her tracks.
"Please don't be mad," he added, and his voice carried such a disarming, nagging, yet pure devotion that Jamil realized her vacation was officially over.
She exhaled sharply through her nose, forcing herself to straighten her posture. The signature, icy gaze of a personal bodyguard returned to its place, even though her burning ears beneath her black hair still gave her away completely.
She attempted to step around him, but Kalim, sensing that the wave of her true anger had passed, beamed instantly like a polished golden cup.
He stepped sideways, blocking her path with his broad chest, and crossed his arms with a playful smirk.
"I'll help!" he declared proudly, snatching the heavy travel bag right out of her hands.
"I'll carry it to your room myself. And I'll clean the carpet! Well, I mean, I'll order the servants to clean it... But under my strict supervision!"
Jamil merely closed her eyes in sheer exhaustion, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers.
"Kalim, Lord Asim... let go of my bag. It is completely unbecoming of your status."
Jamil stared at his retreating back, feeling a strange, familiar sensation settle deep within her chest. This boy was utterly insufferable.
He was loud, irresponsible, completely lacked a sense of personal space, and clung to her relentlessly. But as she watched the golden ribbon bobbing cheerfully in his white hair, Jamil caught herself with a final, grounding thought: her short vacation was definitively over.
From this exact moment, she was officially back to her familiar routine—to endless damage control, cleaning up someone else's chaos, and protecting this foolish heir from his own stupidity.
And perhaps, that entirely predictable chaos was the only thing that truly gave her solid ground to stand on.