5. MIDNIGHT MUSE

She rolled her eyes as she stepped into her penthouse. The matt brown and white theme screamed luxury from every corner as she threw her bag on the huge sofa and plopped on it. The huge glass window gave her the view of the dark night as she sighed and watched the night turning darker.

"He could go to hell." She muttered rubbing her hand over her face and sighed again. Pulling herself to her whole height she walked to the window and sighed seeing the city bustling in the night. Where Murad lived in the corner, where people slept early. She lived in that corner of the city from where lights twinkled like stars in the night. Exhaling she padded slowly into her kitchen.

The clear marble slab reflected her face as she took out a glass and filled it water. She felt the bliss of drinking water and sighed while tilting her head.

Something churned into her stomach as she decided to sketch something.

The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle luminescence across Taliya's sleek and modern apartment. The decor was minimalistic yet warm, with a harmonious blend of matte brown and white tones that exuded a sense of calm and serenity. It was well past midnight, but Taliya was wide awake. Even in the eerie and silent night she could feel her thoughts rumbling in her head making her want to throw everything on the wall.

But, she was smart enough to not let any of the thoughts chase away her calm composure.

She walked quietly into her bedroom, the faint sound of her footsteps barely disturbing the tranquil silence. Her bedroom was a sanctuary of comfort and style, with a plush white rug underfoot and a matte brown bedspread neatly tucked in. Against one wall stood her prized collection of sketchbooks and art supplies, meticulously organized.

Taliya felt a familiar pull, an urge to create. She reached for her sketchbook and a set of graphite pencils, her fingers brushing over the well-worn pages that held so many of her past creations. She settled on the floor, her back against the side of her bed, and let the tranquility of the night envelop her.

With a deep breath, she began to sketch. Her hand moved almost autonomously, guided by an inner rhythm and an unconscious inspiration. The apartment's silence was occasionally punctuated by the soft scratching of pencil against paper. Taliya was in a trance, completely absorbed in the act of creation. Her thoughts flowed seamlessly into her art, and the outside world faded away.

Time seemed to stand still as she sketched, the minutes blending into hours. She lost herself in the intricate details, the subtle shadows, and the delicate lines. It was only when she felt a wave of satisfaction wash over her that she paused, blinking as if waking from a dream.

Taliya set her pencil down and gazed at her work. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized who she had drawn. Staring back at her from the page was Murad. His face, captured with such precision and emotion, seemed to almost come alive under her gaze. The intensity of his eyes, the curve of his lips, and the strength of his features were all rendered with a depth that surprised even her.

She sat back, the sketchbook resting on her lap, and tried to understand the feelings stirring within her. Murad had been a constant presence in her thoughts lately, but she hadn't realized just how deeply he had embedded himself in her subconscious. The act of sketching him without conscious intent revealed a truth she had been avoiding.

Taliya traced a finger lightly over the lines of his face, a small smile playing on her lips. In the quiet solitude of her bedroom, she acknowledged the depth of her feelings for Murad. The realization brought with it a mix of warmth and uncertainty, but also a sense of clarity.

As the first light of dawn began to creep into the room, Taliya carefully set her sketchbook aside and stretched out on her bed. With Murad's image lingering in her mind, she closed her eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep, comforted by the knowledge that her art had once again guided her to a truth she needed to face. Slowly the sleep engulfed her into its warm embrace as she closed her eyes.

~☆~

Murad lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of his dimly lit bedroom. The clock on the nightstand ticked steadily, its rhythm a constant reminder of the hours slipping by. Sleep eluded him, as it often did these days. He shifted restlessly under the covers, trying to find a comfortable position, but comfort seemed as distant as the dawn.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to calm his racing mind. Instead, a wave of unease washed over him. The more he tried to relax, the more his thoughts churned. He was caught in a relentless cycle, his mind a whirlpool of fragmented memories and elusive shadows.

Murad tried to focus on a happy moment from his past, something to anchor him, but every attempt was met with darkness. He saw flashes of indistinct shapes and heard faint echoes of voices, but nothing tangible emerged from the void. It was as if his past was shrouded in a thick fog, impenetrable and haunting.

A feeling of frustration gripped him. Why couldn't he remember? The darkness in his mind was suffocating, and the harder he fought against it, the more it seemed to tighten its hold. He felt a pang of fear, a gnawing worry that he might never reclaim those lost memories. What had happened to him? Why was there such a vast emptiness where his past should be?

Murad sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. The room felt stifling, the walls closing in around him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, needing to move, to do something to break free from the oppressive silence.

He walked to the window and looked out at the cityscape, the distant lights twinkling against the dark sky. The world outside seemed so alive, so full of stories and histories. Why did his own story feel so incomplete?

Murad's thoughts turned to Taliya. She had been a constant source of uneasiness and irritation in his life, her presence a chaos to his troubled soul. He couldn't escape the gnawing void in his memory. He wondered if she could sense his turmoil, if she knew how deeply the darkness within him ran, in that night.

Leaning his forehead against the cool glass of the window, Murad closed his eyes once more. He willed himself to find a fragment, a piece of his past that could offer some clarity. But once again, there was nothing but darkness.

A deep sigh escaped him. He felt as though he was adrift in a vast ocean, with no land in sight. The weight of the unknown pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he knew he couldn't give up. Somewhere within the darkness lay the answers he sought, and he had to keep searching, no matter how elusive they might be.

Returning to bed, Murad lay down and stared at the ceiling once more. He focused on his breathing, willing his mind to quiet. As the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, he finally felt the edges of sleep tugging at him. His last conscious thought was a silent vow to uncover the truth of his past, no matter what it took. Even if it was his own life at stake. He had to find answers to everything around him.