Nurin POV
White House Laleli
As we stepped into the boutique, I immediately noticed that this wasn’t a brand I recognized. It seemed more tailored to local tastes, but I had to admit—the quality looked impressive. Still, I needed Hamze's opinion before I could be sure.
I hurried after him as he moved quickly through the aisles, picking out an assortment of clothes. He examined each item carefully—checking the colors and patterns—before handing them to me, one by one. I stared at him in disbelief.
“Hamze, I’m not buying all of this,” I said. “We don’t even know if the quality’s good.”
“Trust me,” he replied confidently. “This stuff looks great on you, and the quality? It’s better than the imports.”
“But I don’t need all of this,” I argued. “My wardrobes back home are still full.”
“They won’t last you a month or two,” he insisted. “Just take them.”
He gave a subtle nod to the saleslady, who seemed to catch on immediately and gestured for me to follow her to the fitting room.
I had to admit—Hamze had a good eye for fashion. Time to see what he picked.
First, I tried on a light salmon-brown sweater paired with a long black skirt and a white-and-black checkered cardigan. I stepped out of the fitting room and spotted Hamze sitting on the couch across from me. He glanced up, gave a quick nod—his silent approval.
Back into the fitting room. Next up: a red-orange jumpsuit layered over a white, fitted long-sleeve top. Again, I stepped out, and again—his quiet nod.
Third outfit: a gray long-sleeved maxi dress with a cyan cardigan tied at the waist. Same result—his eyes met mine, followed by a brief nod.
Finally, I tried on a black sweater with a flowing maroon maxi skirt. When I stepped out, I nodded toward him this time, and once again, he nodded back—our unspoken ritual of agreement.
I walked up to him and said, “I’ll just take the one I’m wearing.”
Without a word, he took the clothes I was holding, gently grabbed my hand, and led me to the counter. “I’ll pay for this—and the outfit she’s wearing,” he told the cashier. He placed everything on the counter and handed over his credit card.
The saleslady who had helped me earlier approached and began removing the price tags from my top and skirt.
This felt... awkward. I mean, doing this in front of a guy? It was definitely uncomfortable. Trying to ease the tension, I said, “Miss, I can do it myself.” She immediately stepped back and apologized. I took off the tags myself.
It took some time for the cashier to process everything. Once done, Hamze collected the bags, silently retrieved his credit card, and turned to leave without saying anything. I quickly caught up to him.
“Where are we going?” ” I asked.
He stopped. “Let’s have lunch.”
“Oh no, I can’t. This is just too much.”
“Please, I insist.”
“I’m sorry. I really can’t.”
I caught a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes, and it tugged at something in me. I was about to change my mind and say I’d go—when his phone rang. Before I could say anything, he was already answering the call.
Emir POV
Elysium Art Residence Bomonti
As I woke up, I sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the bottle of water on the bedside table, taking a few sips to shake off the grogginess. I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and splash some water on my face.
Then suddenly, I remembered the sticky note I had slipped into my pocket the night before. My heart skipped a beat. I quickly dried my face with a towel and rushed back to find it.
My pulse quickened as I read the note—it was from Nurin.
“Emir, thank you for the flowers. Apology accepted. To return the favor, let’s have dinner tomorrow night, same time. —Nurin.”
I couldn’t contain my excitement. It felt like every happy hormone in my body was celebrating all at once.
Without wasting a second, I grabbed my phone and called Ayaz.
He picked up almost instantly. “Yes, you called? ”
“Ayaz, I need your help.”
“For what? ”
“Can I borrow something to wear? Just for tonight.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “Sure, I’ll check my wardrobe.” I’ll bring something over after lunch.”
“Thank you. I’ll be at the restaurant downstairs. I’ll wait for you there after lunch.”
“Sure,” he said.
That’s what I admire about Ayaz—he always has my back. Everything I could ever want in a brother, he already is. We’d both do anything for the sake of our friendship. Thankfully, we’ve never had to fight over girls. Even though we have a similar taste in women, he’s usually too busy with work, and he’s often paired up with his on-screen leading lady anyway.