The Desert & the Dreamer.

Night fell faster than usual.

Or maybe it just felt that way to Layla now... every hour of daylight a slow ache, every shadow a reminder of the world she waited for after dark.

As soon as the stars emerged above Qamar, she climbed quietly out of bed and walked barefoot into the courtyard. The desert wind carried the faintest trace of his voice, like a secret she wasn't meant to hear.

"Dreamer…"

Her breath hitched.

The whispers grew stronger with every step into the dunes.

"Come find me, beyond the sand…"

Above her, the stars shimmered and shifted, just as they had the night before .... realigning themselves in faint, glowing lines that stretched across the horizon like a trail only she could see.

And she followed.

The world around her blurred and deepened. The familiar warm golden dunes faded into the surreal silver spirals of the otherworldly desert .... that place that belonged only to them.

Her feet touched the cool glass-like sands, and already her heart began to quicken.

She knew he was near.

When she looked up, he was waiting for her at the crest of the nearest dune ... tall and still, a faint golden light curling around his form like fireflies.

His eyes caught hers, and she felt her breath leave her.

Tonight, there was something different in his smile ... not just the quiet warmth she remembered, but something deeper. Like longing itself, taking shape.

She climbed to meet him, the silver sands glowing faintly beneath her feet.

"Malik…" she breathed when she reached him.

And he reached for her hand immediately, his touch warm and weightless all at once.

"Dreamer," he murmured softly, as though saying her name was all he'd been waiting for.

Layla's throat tightened. "You're really here."

"Always here… where the wind waits for you…" he whispered back, and she swore she felt the words ripple through her like waves.

For a moment, they stood together in silence, the stars above them bright and low, as though bending closer to watch.

Then he led her down the dune.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To where this land remembers our names," he replied, his words still soft, still caught between poetry and truth.

The desert opened into a vast field of white flowers she'd never seen before. They glowed faintly under the moonlight, petals like fragments of starlight.

Layla gasped. "It's beautiful…"

Malik turned to her, his golden eyes steady on hers.

"Not as beautiful as the one who dreams it," he said simply.

Her cheeks burned at his words, but she couldn't look away.

He raised one hand and a soft wind swept through the flowers, carrying their shimmering petals into the air around them. They floated like tiny stars, catching in her hair, landing on her shoulders.

"You are my moon," he whispered, voice lower now, closer to her ear. "And I… am the wind that circles you forever."

Layla's heart stuttered.

And before she even realized, her hand had slipped into his again.

They walked through the silver field until they reached the edge of a pool of water so clear and still it reflected the entire sky. When she knelt and touched it, faint ripples spread across the surface ... but the stars remained in place, as though painted there.

Malik knelt beside her.

"This is what you give me, Dreamer," he said softly. "A sky to belong to. A reason to fight the dark."

Her eyes met his, and for the first time she allowed herself to say what she'd been holding back since that first night she heard his voice again.

"I missed you," she whispered.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as though her words hurt and healed him at once.

Then his voice came back to her ... quiet and broken, yet still wrapped in poetry.

"I counted every grain of sand… every star… until you came to me again."

The wind around them seemed to sigh, and the flowers glowed even brighter.

And for a little while, nothing else mattered.

They sat at the edge of the pool, his fingers brushing against hers, her head leaning on his shoulder.

Here, the real world felt far away .... as though it belonged to someone else.

Here, there was no loneliness. No hollow ache.

Only them.

Only this impossible land of stars and sand.

And though some part of Layla still wondered what price they would pay for such stolen nights, she let herself forget for now.

Because she was here.

And so was he.

And that was enough.

As the flowers swirled around them, Malik's voice rose again ... low and tender, carried on the night wind:

"Even if the stars burn out… my love remains."

And in her heart, she believed him.