Unsealed Fate

Chapter 4: Welcome Home.

First times are special and unique. But the last times are beyond comparison. They are priceless. But people don't normally know it's their last time.

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Welcome Home

The evening sun was about to set when the plane touched down at Nnamdi Azikiwe international airport, Abuja at about five O'clock. The moment Zayn stepped his feet on the soil of his father's land he immediately felt the difference in weather compared to the one he was used to. The air around him was thick and the scorching gaze of the sun was already picking at his skin. Without a second thought, he sorted out his shades from his pocket and had them on, and slowly began to take some elegant steps away from the runway.

The airport terminal was usually a very busy place. With many people constantly moving about the place like a nest of ants, the nerve-wracking noise of shoes of different sorts tapping against the floor, and the unending murmur of the passengers. None of these mattered to him. The first and only thing that caught his attention was: a pair of honey-brown eyes smiling at him from afar.

His eyes turned to the female with long dark brown hair swept over one shoulder as she walked majestically, taking nice steps towards him. He'd recognize that brown hair anywhere, anywhere in the world.

Miss Aylin, a Turkish woman, and Omar had been the first to sight Zayn and immediately began to approach him. They were only able to distinguish him from the crowd because of his usual attire. He was dressed up in a black kandura(a thobe) and a black double-layer egal (a solid headband) worn over a red checkered pattern ghutrah ( a scarf worn by Arabian men). Perhaps, Zayn had not acknowledged Omar, his cousin brother's presence while he was still smiling at Aylin who had captivated his attention.

Aylin, excited and overwhelmed by the majesty of her Emirati prince, increased her pace, walking ahead of Omar (khalifah) just so she could be the first to grace him with her greetings. She was one of the very few women with whom zayn was acquainted and close to. It's been over three years and some months since they've known each other.

During those three years, he had grown very fond of her because they shared the same interest and opinions in almost every aspect of life. And despite not being able to cover like every other woman of the religion she still appeared to him as more modest in her mode of dressing than thousands of women on the planet. They first met at a library in San Francisco and ever since then they've spent almost every weekend together until she came back to Nigeria three months ago.

"Assalaam alaikum." She greeted him as he approached her. That was perhaps one of the most brilliant native Arab accent he had heard in a while. They had taken two years of online Arabic Language courses together during their stay in the USA. To think that someone who had just learned a language online wasn't only able to speak but also mimic the accent.

"Alaikum assalaam." He extended a hand towards her for a shake which she elegantly took into her palm.

"Marhaban, hayyak Allah Zayn (welcome, welcome Zayn)." She said in Arabic language, smiling ever so brightly.

"Shukran Jazillan ( Thank you very much)." He replied as he took in her appearance. She wore a maroon chiffon blouse with loose sleeves that were fitted around the wrist and perfectly tucked into a pair of black Palazzo trousers. Her black heels were about four inches high.

"Afwan (you're welcome)"She replied and they let go of each other's hands.

"mabsut innee shaftak taanee (it's nice to see you again)." Shifting his gaze from her, Zayn lifted his head to a very familiar voice, greeting him from across.