He stands impatiently tapping his slippered foot. "I grow frustrated and impatient with you", he speaks in a low Iranian accent. "Are you not aware of how I desire to be near you?"
She looks at this being from afar. A legend. A myth. Thoughts crash upon themselves as if a derailment of a high-speed light rail had just taken place.
"You are aware that I neither do commands nor demands, right? The words tumble out Habibata's mouth without a warning.
"Look, little girl. I am not a game. I am someone that humans yet understand nor will ever." The djinn being Omar speaks through gritted teeth.
Habibata huffs and turns to walk off as is her normal reply when Omar is in his attention-seeking moods. "I am quite aware of what you are and how you can be Djinn.
" Habibata flings the words like scimitars at a target.
Appearing right in her path, Omar grabs Habibata up as if she was a fine china doll. He moves to speak directly into her small ear with the many earrings stuck through it.
"Have some respect for me, Habibata. It is not like I am the mere ego-stricken men you are used to dealing with daily.
I am male and have feelings, but I have something those puny sacks have not. Upbringing, manners, etiquette and am high born."
Habibata put out with Omar's show of height and strength, lowers her face and voice so that Omar has no choice but to draw nearer.
"I care nothing for your utterances of being a Djinn, a king, or highly educated. You can be the lord of all and still be as rude and unkind as any of lower station."
Omar begins to seat himself in a loose lotus pose, seating Habibata in the center of the opening his legs form, facing him.
Omar takes several breaths and measures out his words in a low but strong voice.
"If it weren't for all the tragedies, deceptions and lies experienced by you, I would have an easier time of things. Nothing that I have said to you rings any bells of truth at all, Habibata?"
Habibata looks away. Knowing that her thoughts are not only her own, she thinks of the most tragic memories she has. The tears quickly fall from eyes the color of fine chocolate ganache.
Life did not go as she had dreamed of or aspired. The wounds left behind have her cynical of all who even try to breach, now, a hard and brittle heart and an even more defiant mind.
Omar stares at Habibata. He reads her thoughts effortlessly and becomes both hurt and angry at what has befallen his prize possession. Omar hesitantly inhales a breath.
He caresses Habibata's long, wild thick curly hair that she has now allowed to grow and starts to project not only images but his most inner thoughts.
The image of the very fine and well maintain room they sit in comes into view in Habibata's mind's eye. The image is extremely detailed showing her what she knows is in this room.
The image begins to move as if someone is performing a 3D tour of the palace that has been a playground of sorts for Habibata since she could remember. Omar begins to telepathically speak.
His words, Habibata finds, are playing directly into her mind. There is a brief piercing feel to them in her ears. Omar sensing this quickly softens his communication.
"Habibata. Your name his special meaning in more ways than one. It not only translates to "my love" in Arabic but has the meaning of "gift from God".
You are that and more to me and all await your decision to become a part of this household, my dear." Omar soothingly thinks.
Habibata, still marveling at the ease at how Omar can offer both clairvoyant images and telepathic messages, seems to just allow him to express his thoughts and feelings.
Habibata knows that if she continues to interrupt his expressions, she will not be allowed her to sleep.
Habibata thinks to herself, "Better to allow him his stage than to have him ruin my escape.
Omar winces but continues with his history lesson and education of himself, his race and the house that surrounds them.
Omar touches Habibata faces and neck as if he was petting one of the exotic creatures in the menagerie. A habit that has been his way for now almost all her life.
Habibata, almost in a trace, allows Omar his explanations, that are somewhat repetitive. She sways lightly from the comfort of the touches and the easy accented voice that drones on.
Habibata begins to feel herself drifting to sleep. Omar becomes aware of this too.
"HABIBATA? Do you not care that I am speaking to you?", voices Omar loudly and with an all too stern utterance.
"When will ever realize the meaning of my being near you and my existence itself", Omar quakes.
"I'm sorry. You know that sleep takes me whether I want it to or not.", Habibata answers shying away from the sternness of Omar's voice.
"Damn it, Habibata. YOU ARE TO BE QUEEN", Omar blurts out with no preamble.