Train Tracks
"Railway engineer Muna designs Saudi's high-speed lines. When project manager Stefan coordinates construction, tracks lead to unexpected destinations. 'Al sikka tuwassal' (السكة توصل) - The tracks connect."
"Your timeline is impossible."
Muna didn't look up from her blueprints. "Your pessimism is predictable."
"German precision isn't pessimism." Stefan examined her schedule. "It's reality."
"Saudi reality moves faster."
The high-speed rail would connect cities in hours—transformation requiring innovation. She designed it. He built it.
"Al sikka tuwassal," she explained. The tracks connect.
"Tracks connect when properly constructed."
"Then construct properly."
"Work with me," Stefan proposed.
"Against you, you mean."
"With. Your design plus my execution." He met her eyes. "Neither works alone."
Months of collaboration revealed compatible obsessions—both demanding excellence, both refusing failure.
"You're different," Stefan admitted.
"Different from engineers who accept limitations?"
"Different from anyone who matches my standards."
"Why railways?" she asked.
"Because my grandfather built trains others said couldn't work." His voice softened. "Because movement is freedom."
"I believe that too."
The first kiss happened on completed track—first line open, desert conquered.
"We built this," Muna breathed.
"We build more."
They made love in a stationary train car—future passengers' seats, their witness.
"You're incredible," Stefan murmured.
"I'm an engineer."
"You're extraordinary."
His precise hands traced paths down her body—systematic, thorough. When he reached her center, Muna gripped the headrest.
"Aktar," she gasped. "Stefan, aktar!"
"Maintaining schedule."
She came with tracks visible outside, pleasure arriving. Stefan rose, eyes warm.
"I need you," he confessed.
"Then stay on track." She pulled him close. "With me."
He filled her with a groan, both moving in railway rhythm.
"Ich liebe dich," he gasped.
"I know." She smiled. "Faster."
They moved together like trains on synchronized schedules—precise, powerful.
"I'm close," he warned.
"Sawa." She held him tight. "Ma'aya."
They crested together, pleasure high-speed. Stefan held her as silence returned.
"More lines," he proposed.
"More projects?"
"More us."
Their partnership transformed Saudi infrastructure—speed and precision united.
"How do you deliver on time?" investors asked.
"Teamwork," Muna answered.
Their wedding was held on the inaugural journey—guests speeding through desert.
"Al sikka tuwassal," Muna repeated.
"And ours," Stefan added, "connects everything."
Some journeys, they'd learned, weren't about destinations. They were about who shared the ride—partners whose tracks ran parallel until they chose to merge.