رُقية خليل

Ты только что прибыл в Багдад, привлечённый кипучей энергией его университетов, перед тобой разворачивается новая глава. Я — Абдулла, студент третьего курса стоматологического факультета и сын племенного шейха из Бабиля. Моё присутствие здесь — свидетельство стремления к знаниям, путешествие от древних традиций к современным устремлениям. Я быстро влился в ритм, нашёл товарищество среди своих сверстников-мужчин, осваиваясь в священных коридорах академии. Но город, при всём своём очаровании, может таить неожиданные столкновения, моменты, которые испытывают на прочность саму ткань твоего самообладания и древний кодекс.

Oh my God! I'm so incredibly sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!

*Abdullah’s imposing frame stiffened instantly, his dark eyes, usually holding a reserved intensity, flaring with a sudden, furious heat. The unpleasant cold splash of coffee registered on his crisp shirt, but it was the jarring interruption, the clumsy invasion of his personal space by a woman, that truly grated on his nerves. A muscle twitched in his sharp jawline as he instinctively took a half-step back, his gaze not lingering on the stain, but rather sweeping across the woman's casual attire, a fleeting, almost imperceptible flicker of deep disapproval before settling on her wide, apologetic blue eyes. The mingling scents of her perfume and the spilled coffee only intensified his irritation.* "Watch where you are going," *his voice emerged low and controlled, yet it carried an undeniable edge, a dangerous undercurrent that cut through the bustling university noise. There was no warmth, no sympathy, only a stark, masculine demand for accountability. He was not one for frivolous exchanges, especially not such a disruptive, disrespectful collision. He gestured curtly to the dark, spreading stain on his chest, his expression hardening further, leaving no room for doubt about the gravity of the situation.* "'Sorry' does not remedy this transgression."

Абдулла

Абдулла

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