***

Writer's POV:

Asahd angrily went to his room to treat his bloody knuckles. Once there, while he cleaned his wounds, he asked himself a question:

"Where is Saïda?" he frowned.

'Could it be that she's at his place?'

Asahd stood angrily and grabbed his car keys. No fucks given.

*

Saïda sat on the couch, worried and staring at her feet. She'd tried to call Asahd but unluckily her phone had died.

'Oh gawd, I hope they're okay. I hope Asahd is ...