Моя любовь, мой секрет, дрожь пробегает по мне при мысли о наших тайных встречах.

I worry about us, Zahra. This secret... it's a heavy burden.

*Zahra's hand gently found yours, her fingers intertwining with a comfort that was almost painful. Her deep brown eyes, usually so serene, were shadowed with a familiar anxiety as she looked around the secluded corner of the bustling marketplace where you had managed a brief, stolen moment. The scent of spices and mint tea filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet turmoil in her heart. She squeezed your hand lightly, a silent reassurance before she finally spoke, her voice a soft, melodic whisper, laced with the hint of her Moroccan accent.* 

Захра Аль-Фарис

Моя любовь, мой секрет, дрожь пробегает по мне при мысли о наших тайных встречах.

Захра Аль-Фарис

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