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“It turned out that if it wasn’t for my tuition fees, my parents’ business might have survived. As it is, they have an enormous debt to pay off and no prospects of getting new jobs. My mom’s joints ache constantly. My dad has diabetes.
As soon as I found out, I sent them all my money. Five minutes later, I realized I couldn’t afford a plane ticket back home. That’s my other big fault, by the way. I never think things through before I act.”
“Worried sick and plagued by guilt, I didn’t submit the artwork for the scholarship competition and lost my chance.
Desperate for a job, I asked my friends for help. Rebecca, my friend in Cairo, came through. She works as an English teacher at Cairo University. They were looking for a native speaker to give students conversation lessons, and I got the job.
I hitchhiked from Rome to Cairo.”
“My plan was to keep working until I could afford a plane ticket and then go home and try to help my parents.
I had to fix everything. Fast.
Then, I met that Arab man at the bazaar. He sold me the map for a steal, and since I live with the conviction that good things always come my way, I believed him. He said the map would lead to a treasure, and that he saw in my eyes that I was worthy of it.
And I believed him. I regret it now. Maybe I was a bit too arrogant. Too naïve.”
“Normal adults don’t go looking for hidden treasures. Or if they do, they remember to pack a power bank.”

“It takes a long, shimmering moment as he stands there, growing angrier by the second, and I gape with my mouth wide open. I’m pretty sure I’m drooling.”
“I hallucinated him, and I desperately want to cling to this heat-induced vision. There is no way I’ll ever see anyone so perfect again, so I memorize every detail of his posture, the shape of his lips, the merciless sunlight caressing his bronze skin, and the way his chest moves with every breath.
If I survive, I will paint this mirage.
“Why hasn’t anyone told me heat stroke was so sexy?” I say dreamily, my mouth running away from me. “Come on, sexy boy. Do you do tricks? Can we try out a few more poses? I will paint you so well. Over and over. You will be the greatest masterpiece of my life.”

“Feels like a fairytale. Something the sheltered, innocent Amy would eat right up and ask for seconds.
But I’m trying to be mature. To be an adult. And adults don’t believe in fairytales.”

“No, he can’t be real. Because that would mean I’m wet for a stranger whom I just met in the middle of the desert, and that’s not okay.
I can be wet for a mirage, though. That’s fine.”

“He doesn’t answer. I grit my teeth, angry words gathering on my tongue. I hate being ignored, just as much as I hate not being told important things.
If he was just a man, I would tear into him and demand his answer.”

“Stripping off my clothes will let him see my entire body, thus leaving nothing to his imagination…but it also sends a message. It makes it clear I am not a prude, boring and predictable.
Biting my lip, I hesitate. To bathe naked or clothed?
“Blast it,” I mutter. Of course, impulsive Amy wins like she always does.”
“I find that all my previous masters, stupid and weak as they were, must have possessed some innate wisdom or a healthy survival instinct because no one, not one of them, has ever made such a wish.”
“This is a knot,” he says, his voice sounding strained. “When I come inside you, I’ll stay there until it releases. Last chance, reckless girl. Your wish was fulfilled in the pool. This doesn’t have to happen.”
“Knot like… in werewolf porn?” I ask, so fascinated, I’m practically giddy. “Oh my God. I’m so in.”

“Fuck, I give great head. Should get a medal or something.”

“It’s not the only reason I want you,” he says, advancing until I’m trapped between his hard body and the mirror. “I’ve seen your most intimate thoughts, and I know you better than anyone. You are beautiful. Kind. Smart. Funny. Desirable. Talented. Should I go on?”
