Haider returned to his room, a cool towel around his neck, and plopped down onto his bed.
The door he had come through was left slightly ajar intentionally, so that she could come inside anytime.
The day had played out quite literally like a thriller movie. A bunch of men kidnapping him, his brave escape, and finally returning to his lover.
A classic cinema.
However, only scenes such as these are appealing to watch through a screen rather than living through them.
He recalled the entire evening he had spent sitting in the van, surrounded by men in black suits.
The space was tight due to the unnecessary number of people shoved into the single van. For just one man, an army's worth of people had been sent.
But for what important cause?
The van stopped at a local five-star hotel, thirty minutes away from his office. He was instructed and guided to the top floor, with no one in sight besides the staff working overtime.
The bodyguard-looking man spoke no words and simply accompanied him to the head's door.
K.H.A.N.
Haider walked inside, this time alone, and took a seat in the ordinary yet lavish suite.
A giant table stretched across the room, and behind it sat a person with his chair turned away from Haider's sight.
Yet, Haider knew who he was.
"You came?"
A coy tone came as the man dramatically turned his chair to face Haider.
Haider's face instantly darkened, and he glared like a fierce lion, true to his name and his nature.
The coy man wore an extravagant tuxedo, complemented by a newly trimmed white moustache and a balding scalp.
One stereotypical glance would portray him as a corrupted man, someone tainted by greed and power.
"Haha!! Don't look so tense! Sit down, we have much to talk about."
He exclaimed with a coy laugh, his fingers folded firmly. Haider had not spoken once. His stare was sharp, and he merely observed.
Any choice of words could result in further complications and eventually lead to an unwanted scheme.
"You shouldn't have sent men to my abode."
Haider spoke with a swift yet controlled tone, unwavering and stern.
The person sitting across from him burst into another snicker, but Haider wasn't entertained.
"Haha!! Look at you, setting up boundaries now, are we?" He smirked. "If you had come with us before, we wouldn't have had to drag you here."
"I clearly asked for more time."
"That is impossible. Khan has grown impatient. If you don't see him soon, he will take everything you hold dear."
Haider gulped, a trickle of sweat falling from his jaw. For once, he was paranoid.
There was too much he needed to protect, and he feared that he wouldn't be able to.
"I know that you have no interest in the throne, but someone must fill the spot." He continued while picking his teeth.
Haider's fists reddened, and his lips thinned.
"You owe me."
"Huh?"
The determined man gave him a death glare and announced once more.
"You owe me greatly. Remember that."
"Tsk... bringing that up now will do you nothing."
Haider got to his feet and began walking away before leaving him with one last remark.
"You know what you have to do. Don't forget."
The balding man boiled with anger and groaned under his breath.
"Ha... you will regret this."
"Sure."
...
Back to the present, the hurdles kept piling up. On one end were the responsibilities he continued to run away from, and on the other, the forbidding guilt he held in his heart.
So, a king?
Someone who must sacrifice while also bearing authority.
A supreme ruler who holds absolute and constitutional power over his own kingdom.
An ideal king must display proper morals and purpose. Someone with wisdom and proper judgement over justice.
To sum it up, a king is meant to live for his people and bestow upon them facilities and knowledge.
A king's duty is endless, but at the same time, they have their own achievements.
One desires to become a king for its pride and power. The strength to do whatever they wish without being questioned.
Fortunate wealth and loyalty from his people.
They make him feel deeply respected, admired, and valued in his everyday life.
So, the ones who desire such a quality of life are understood and aren't judged.
Accordingly, why was Haider refusing such a position?
He had countless reasons and a past that could not be recapped now.
The memory trail made him drowsy, and only sleep could ease him of his stress.
Before his pupils completely lost focus, he took a glimpse at the small crack of his door.
Only a narrow frame of view could be seen from that small space.
It was her door, and she was behind it, probably captivated by sleep.
Haider couldn't help but smile. At last, whatever it was, his muse was at peace, and that proved to be enough to soothe him tonight.
"Goodnight, my love."