Laced dreams

In the quaint coastal town of Cresthaven, where the salty current held up stories of love and mystery, the night held secrets that only a selected few could decipher. As the moon blommed its silvery glimmer upon the coasts, the beautiful and vibrant artist Zara found herself fascinated by the magnetism of her dreams, dreams that was of how she wanted her life to be, about her career, future partner, and everything worth dreaming of. Zara was always known for her wide and catchy graphic imagination, but suddenly, her dreams had begun to take on a life of their own.

In a consisten and disturbing order, night after night, she found herself wandering through ethereal landscapes, tutored by whispers that seemed to echo from another realm. With not expectaion nor clue, Zara was unaware about the progressive thinning line between her dreams and reality.

The dusk of a very busy weekday, Zara attended an occasion at Nike art gallery for the launching of a fresh art piece, because she had an unequivocal love for art.

Her graceful presence was swallowed in a fitted black body-con dress that intentionally hugged her arcs. The high-neck dress was a mesmerizing mixture of refinement and allure, with its dark color spotlighting her skin color. The edgy vibe of the brown leather jacket and a brown leather 5-inch slender stiletto ankle booth summed up a hint of waywardness to her look. A medley of carefully chosen jewelry; delicate silver earrings, a gemstone necklace, and a cuff-style bracelet; each piece created a harmonious balance.

It wasn't just her mesmerizing physique that made her command attention – but her endearingly dorky way of carrying herself. Her bright and doely shaped eyes that sparkled in her heart-shaped face with a perk nose, her cupid bow lip, and freckles smattered on her cheeks, all added to her whimsical charm.

Despite her clumsiness, she radiated inexplicable warmth, dozed with a sunny aura that drew people to her like bees did to honey; a glorious yet glittering mess and she knew it – and that knowledge became an addition to the irresistible charm she had.

After the official commencement of the event, the museum guide shed light on the artist and the meaning of the artwork that was just launched. As this was on, there was an outburst of a loud ring, which came from Zara's right-hand side, and with immediate shock, she turned her face towards where the sound was coming from and realized that it was the person who was standing next to her. The strange man, on the other hand, was calmly collected and didn't even flinch at the noise, immediately turning it off. He did this while still focused on what the guide was saying.

Zara nods frantically and immediately connects back to the guide's message. A few minutes after the short interruption, the little lecture was over, and everyone seemed to be moving dismissively towards the refreshment table, which was decorated with diverse easy snacks and varieties of drinks. Plate clamping with different inaudible noises filled, alongside a slow refreshing background orchestra.

The stranger with a faded smile "Hey"

"Hey," Zara exchanged pleasantries without even looking at the face of whom she was talking to because her face was fixated on her phone.

"do you easily get that distracted." These words dragged the attention of Zara.

"ohh" Zara strained the exclamation, "The guy with the loud ring."

"that's one way to respond to a stranger," he said with an uncertain emotion in his eyes. "you would have missed the most important part of the message had you not connected back," he said, not sure if she acknowledged what he said.

"Well, if I did miss then it'd be on your lousiness. Zara is the name." She said while extending her hand to receivev a handshake. As their palm melted in each others embrace, Zara's gaze tilted upward, locking onto the sexiest chiseled features of the man before her. Her initially firm handshake faltered instantly as she was caught amidst the struggle to comprehend the sheer perfection of the human before her, with a blazing dominant and dark aura. His well-tailored black tuxedo sunk on his perfectly crafted physique with intentional precision, accentuating the remarkable broadness of his shoulders, well sculpted chest, and pretty lean waist. It was as though the fit was intently made to emphasize every ripple of muscle he had beneath the fabric, leaving Zara's imagination to hopelessly wander about the impressive body hidden under the sleek fabric.

The breathlessness his face left her in was unthinkable. Strong, angular lines defined his jawline, cheeks, and nose, as if created by the divine hands of a master sculptor, was breathtakingly beautiful and dangerously intimidating. His ocean eyes sparkled danger and intelligence with a mixture of familiarity, drawing her into utmost awe.

"Deen," he said, feeling his senses reel, his thoughts growing foggy, and his pulse quickening, as he takes in the most exquisite woman he has ever seen. He felt struck with an unsettling realization of the enchanting beauty he was staring at, one who seemed almost too perfect. But all these emotions were bottled in as he was bent on keeping up with his dominant and emotionless aura.

It was well noticeable how lost she was in her thought; jolting back, she gathered the little courage she had and exited the event; She was in so much hurry as though she had seen a ghost and needed to flee instantly. Deen stood blankly, trying to comprehend why she shoved her phone into her bag, looked confused, and exited the event. Deen was still caught in the web of trying to understand why her sudden behavior, not noticing she had already exited the event center. Moments later, reality hit him and he realized she had left without a word. He knew the kind of aura he had but all his life he was used to girls flocking around him and not running away from him.

Zara hurriedly ran down the brightly lit hallway filled with people, her breathing strikingly becoming uneven, and her fingers tightly gripping the strap of her purse as if that was the only thing keeping her grounded and she would be dead instantly if she let go. The chilly air caressed her skin as she stepped outside, but it did little to no impact on the adrenaline-forced heat rising in her chest. She had no comprehension as to why she ran, all she could feel was the unease that erupted in gut, and it erupted in a way she couldn't shake off.

Her mind raced as she replayed the moment their eyes collided. In the depths of her heart, she knew nothing was threatening about him; if anything, it would be his alluring beauty, and he was the kind of man that she always gravitated towards. But even with that, there was an inexplicable weight settled in her chest, a warning whispering bulges in her veins. She wasn't drowning in fear in a conventional sense, it was something deeper, something that had no name nor explanation but was strongly felt in her gut, a feeling bigger than a whale.

Standing outside in the premises of the art gallery, was Zara with her hand pressed against her temple, consumed with a mixture of excitement and frustration creeping in. 'Why?' Why did he make her feel like she was standing on the edge of peril yet felt a sense of familiarity? It wasn't about the way he looked at her but the way she felt when she looked at him. It was as if a longtime buried part of her knew him in a way her conscious mind couldn't fathom.

Walking down the street, her pulse pounded as she passed a streetlamp while inhaling intensely. She needed to make at least a sense of this but couldn't at the same time. Lost in her swirling thoughts, the loud blare of a car honk jolted her to reality. She jostled back just in time to avoid stepping into the road track, where a cab sped by with its headlight glazing hardly against her.

Her heart throbbed so loudly as she inhaled realizing how bewildered she had been. Shaking off the wavering unease, she quickly lauded another cab, keen to get home and away from whatever strange snare Deen appeared to have over her. The driver barely conceded her as she slid into the back seat, the city light glimmering against the windows as they drove through the quiet streets. The farther they went, the pudgier the air around her became. The silence in the cab was strangling, thick with an unnamed cloud. Every flicker of light outside seemed undistorted, shadows extending unnaturally protracted against the pavement. Her mind was still at war, thinking if she had seen something she shouldn't have, something buried deep beneath the surface of her understanding.

As she was in the back of the cab, staring blankly out of the window while sinking in an unsettling thought gnawed at the edge of her mind, she was struck with an introspection, 'Perhaps this meeting had a paranormal meaning.' But Zara had never believed in anything supernatural; ghosts, spirits, and premonition. It was all just fiction to her or stories people told to explain what they didn't understand.

She exhaled dashingly, shaking her head in disapproval to such nonsense thoughts. With no logical explanation for everything, she assumed maybe she was overwhelmed by Deen's dashing looks, or maybe she was just reading too much into things. "He is just a man is just a man, nothing more-nothing less." She said to herself.

Just as she convinced herself of that, an impulsive flash of bright light pierced through the windshield, blinding her sight. Before she could react, there was a deafening slam that ravaged the silence, shuddering the cab with a violent leverage. The vehicle lurched, asits tires screeched against the asphalt, and in an instant, Zara was pulled forward with brutal force, the seat beneath her breakng from its bolts as the wreck sent both it and her hurtling toward the already shattering windshield. Glass exploded around her, slicing through the air and her skin, as she barely had time to scream. Leaving her no time to process what was taking place, her body collided head-on with the massive truck that had just slammed into them, the cold metal pressing against her with leverage so straineously, it stole the breath from her lungs. Pain, abrupt and consuming, tore through her as the world around her melted into a blur of shattered steel, broken glass, and darkness.

The disarray of the accident blurred into sirens, frantic voices, and the crushing weight of unconsciousness. In a split second, paramedics infested the scene, pulling Zara's battered body from the wreckage. Blood pooled beneath her as she was strapped onto a stretcher, her pulse weak, her breathing hardly there. Every second counted.

She was rushed to the hospital emergency unit, where doctors and nurses worked tirelessly to stabilize her. The damage being brutal caused internal bleeding, multiple fractures, and a deep gash across her temple. She was wheeled into surgery as there was no time to hesitate, her life hanging in the balance as the operating room was filled with beeping monitors and the scent of antiseptics.

In the blink of an eye, it was day two; she remained unconscious in the ICU, her body fighting to recover yet no one had come to check up on her or identify her. Calls were made but attaining a close relative or friend proved difficult. The hospital staff eagerly waited for someone to identify her while also putting out a piece of news about her, to ease the locating by her close ones. On the third day, the quiet walls of the hospital were ravaged by the frantic screams of an unknown man.

"Zara... where is she?" His voice rang out with raw anguish, his feet pounding on the floor as he rushed in from the entrance, towards the reception desk. His face was drawn with worry as he demanded to see her.

Meanwhile, in another wing of the hospital, Deen was on a congenial visit. He rarely came by unless it was necessary, but today, he was checking in on an old acquaintance. As he walked through the reception region, the frantic shout caught his attention.

"Zara" the strange man yelled, while the nurse at the reception desk signaled him to reduce his tone to not cause chaos in the hospital.

Deen stopped mid-step, his curiosity instantly piqued. The name was common but for a tingling reason, he seemed to be drawn to find out who this Zara was. He thought to himself, just maybe she could be the one. He knew the hospital well enough because it belonged to his best friend. Acting on instinct, he privately scooped a nurse to a side corridor to ask "Who is this man, and who is looking for?"

"Sir I think it best you ask the chief doctor, he is in the best place to give you such details," the nurse said.