The Essence of Noah (Muslim story)

Touch

I can see his jaw tense and relax as he watches me intently, not showing any signs of looking or turning away. For what feels like the hundredth time today, my heart picks up it's pace; thumping and knocking about against my ribs leaving breathless and unable to form complete words.

The longer I stand, listening to my own heartbeat and staring at Noah as he waits patiently for me to say something- anything-, the more thicker the air seems.

"I have to go." Is what makes it's way through my lips, in a hurried and desperate dismissal. I hitch my bag strap higher up on my shoulder as I take a step closer to the door.

"We have to talk." I clamp my teeth down on the inside of my cheek, as Noah speaks more assertively, and straightens up.

"What is there to talk about?" I flicker my gaze at him for a second, stupidly thinking I'd be okay with making eye contact, but as soon as my heart drums harder, I turn towards the door. I can't do this- I don't want to do this.

"Really Hana? We have a lot to talk about. Like for starters, why we're not talking." He brings a hand out of his pocket and uses it to indicate between us before running over his hair.

"We are talking, but I have to go." I try to keep my voice as collected as his, but he makes it seem much easier than it is.

"We're not, and I have no idea why. I've apologized for everything, but nothing is okay anymore. We're not okay." He crosses his arms over his chest as, speaking quicker and louder, and for once I feel like I've hit a nerve. "What is this even about? Is this religious or about your parents, or is it us?"

"Why are you bringing my parents into this?" It's the only thing I catch on to, and it has me reeling. Why won't he just drop it?

"Why are you so defensive about your parents? I told you, I don't care-"

"But, I do!" My voice rises to match his, as Noah flails his arms and rubs his forehead. "My parents are a big part of who I am."

"So that's what this is about? Your parents?" He undoes the first button of his dress shirt and tugs the collar loose.

"You threw it in my face."

"I didn't mean too."

"Obviously you did." the words drip venomously, as his words rip through my emotions. I hardly believe he's actually clueless. "You were so adamant on knowing how my parents met, and when you found out- by eavesdropping- you used it against me!"

"I was proving a point!"

"By using the most private thing about me!?"

"I didn't know what else to say! You thought I was a liar."

"You are a liar." A foreign  look of hurt passes across Noah's face, crumbling his calm façade and revealing a more vulnerable side I would've preferred not seeing.  His hands travel up to his head then fall limply by his sides as unwanted feelings of guilt crawl over my skin. "I need to go." I speak through the lodge in my throat,  as I turn to the door and reach for the handle.

Then, it happens too fast. Noah's hand enclosed around my arm. My back to the door. His arm by my head. And his breath fanning over my face. My hands grip onto my bag strap. My breath hitches in my throat. And my body freezes. I can't move- there's no room for it. Our bodies are close, too close that I can feel his shirt against my arm, and the tips of his shoes by mine. His stare is what I feel the most though.

I've never been this close to anyone before, I've never been stared at like this before. I watch him watching me, his eyes darting frantically between mine, and then, they drop to my lips. My heart takes a heavy pound that I'm certain Noah heard, but he doesn't pay it any heed. His stare at my lips doesn't cease, and when his grip on my arm loosens and I feel the shuffle of my feet moving closer, I brace myself.

I make no move to step away or push him, or speak up and tell him to stop, because somewhere, selfish and immoral within me wants this. A part of me fueled with adrenaline and a sense of devilish romance wants to experience this, whatever it is. I want him to come in a little closer, then dip his head to the side. I want him to rest his hands on my hips and the curve of my spine. I want the scruff on his face to tickle my lips, and I want to feel his hair and trace his laugh lines.

And so, when he leans in closer, I slacken my grip on my bag, and wait for it. His breath tickles my cheeks as his head passes by mine as both his hands come to rest against the door. He lets out a heavy breath and then swears into the material of my scarf. Traitorously, my heart plummets, and my rush fizzles away the moment Noah steps back. I watch, standing frozen as he rubs his face and then turns away from me.

"I'm sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn't have done that to you." He rambles as he tugs at his hair and paces further and further away.

I just stand there, back against the door, helplessly trying to control my breathing as I relive the last thirty seconds. What was I about to do? I was going to let him kiss me. I was going to kiss him back. Shivers run down my spine at the thought. I'm an idiot, a weak, hypocritical idiot, who was just about to fall into the same mistake as my parents.

"Hana?" With reddened cheeks and I rising chest, I look up at Noah.

"Can we just talk this out?" I stare at him and roll his suggestion over in my head. After that, that close call that surfaced way to many emotions, resolving things with Noah doesn't seem like a bad idea.

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