Tenderly Trembling, They Confess Their Love

The dust storm lashed against the truck's metal exterior like a whip. There were no lights, no starlight, only a frenzied gale roaring in the throat of the night. My arms locked tighter and tighter around him, the only way to stave off a fraction of my terror.

Originally, it was just me holding onto him. But after a moment, I felt a gentle hand brush against my back. He patted my trembling shoulder and murmured softly, "Don't be afraid."

"Mmm," I mumbled a vague response, still reluctant to move my face from his chest, unmoving as I absorbed his warm body heat. Just those few short words from him settled my racing heart, and my tone relaxed a fraction. "Thank goodness you're here with me. At least if something happens, I won't be alone."

Musa chuckled softly, his fingers absentmindedly playing with my hair, hooking a strand and gently twirling it around his fingertips. "Be a good girl."

The arms wrapped around his waist suddenly stiffened.

For a moment, the howling wind outside grew louder, and the rhythm of the sand beating against the metal grew even more dense and frantic.

After a sudden, violent shuddering of the truck, the surroundings grew slightly quieter. A little while later, the sound of the wind gradually receded, and the churned-up dust settled back to the ground.

Inside the cab, the harsh clatter of the sandstorm was gone, leaving only the sound of each other's breathing.

Absolute darkness still filled our vision.

Then, from right above me, I heard Musa's voice, still steady and melodious: "The most dangerous part is over."

Hearing this, I knew I had no reason to keep lingering in his arms. Slowly, I loosened my grip around his waist, sat up straight, and tucked the hair behind my ear. I remembered the light twirling of his fingers just moments ago, the tips of my hair brushing against my cheek, leaving my skin ticklish and my heart fluttering.

We were enclosed within the cramped space of the truck's cab, the windows coated with a thick layer of dust, shielding us from any view of the outside world. With no light and no sound, I rubbed my hands together, trying to use the soft rustling noise to alleviate this eerie silence.

Musa didn't speak, and neither did I. I knew he was within arm's reach, yet I still couldn't open my mouth. The frantic sandstorm had been unsettling, but this dead silence made breathing erratic.

Suddenly, I felt a hand reach out, stroke across my back, wrap around my waist, and with a sudden pull, draw me into his embrace.

This abrupt movement left me completely stunned, not knowing what to do for a moment. This time, it was his turn to lock his arms tightly around my waist, resting his head upon my shoulder.

Incredulous, I simply let him hold me in the quiet. After a long moment, I softly asked, "What is the meaning of this?"

There was no answer. I could only hear Musa's somewhat hurried breathing.

I sat frozen for a long while, silently gathering my thoughts before phrasing it differently and asking again, "Why did you draw me in your notebook?"

A choked sound came from his throat as he tilted his head slightly. "Because..."

He dragged out his tone, as if struggling to voice the words. My heart sank slightly. All at once, the questions I had held back for so long poured out: "Why did you lie to me that the Iftar meal was just handed out randomly? Why did you go out of your way to teach me how to drive a kart? Why... are you so insistent on coming to the desert?"

Hearing this, Musa's body stiffened slightly. Sensing that reaction, my throat grew dry and an indescribable ache settled in my chest.

Slowly, he released my waist. Just as I thought he was about to pull away for good, I suddenly felt a pair of hands cup my face—gentle, quiet, and carrying a tender tremor.