12. Halal & Haram

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They were seated comfortably in front of the TV, with their pizza feast spread out over the coffee table. Ben and Charlie were practically huddled together, grinning as they ate their dinner. Farrah and Richard sat next to each other with the plates between them as they ran out of space on the coffee table.

"Farrah," Ben spoke breaking the silence, "How come you can eat non-Halal pizza? I mean, Rich made a pretty big fuss – "

"Ben," Richard said, a warning laced his tone.

A blanket of quiet settled over the group until Farrah cleared her throat, "Well, I'm not eating the meat. I'm just having the vegetarian pizza."

"So, it doesn't matter that we are eating meat that aren't halal?" he questioned again.

"Well, to be honest, some Muslims are extremely particular. But I guess, growing up here I just adjusted. Plus, my parents were pretty relaxed, when we travelled and we couldn't find any Halal food, we'd just have the vegetarian option," Farrah explained.

"So, the word, Halal; it's Arabic?" Ben asked as he munched on his pizza.

"Yes," Farrah answered as she gulped down her water.

"You speak two additional languages; Arabic and Urdu?" Ben looked at her with wide eyes that Farrah couldn't help but chuckle.

"No, I don't speak Arabic per se. I use it in my prayers, and the terms that sometimes relate to everyday life, like the word Halal. I do speak Urdu though, my mum taught me," She answered smiling.

"Oh my god babe, I just had such a random thought," Charlie said suddenly.

Groaning, Farrah shook her head, "Do I even want to know?"

"Mr. Khan getting freaky all the while speaking Urdu," Charlie blurted without a care of who was seated with them. As a result, both Richard and Farrah choked on their pizza and looked at Charlie with eyes wide with shock.

"What? They spoke Urdu right?" Charlie asked, seemingly oblivious to what she just said.

"Charlie! Just...please...stop talking!" Farrah said, almost raising her voice. "Astaghfiruallah," she added in a whisper, she knew she was flustered. Ya Allah, Charlie and her big fucking mouth, Farrah though with a frown.

The rest of dinner passed as smoothly as possible, keeping in mind Charlie and her tendency to blurt the weirdest things. Once their stomachs were full, the four of them started on decorating the tree. And even then, Charlie saw how Richard's eyes were glued to Farrah's every movement. It was like he was saving every movement, every expression, every look, every smile of Farrah's in a memory bank; as though he was afraid he might never be given this chance to be this close to her again.

She couldn't help but notice all those small ways that he found to touch Farrah. How he would graze her hand, and the touch would linger. The way he placed his hand on the small of Farrah's back to draw her closer to him. But he never succeeded to bring Farrah any closer to him, Farrah pulled away as soon as she realized how close they were. This continued up to the second before Richard and Ben left the flat.

Now, being Farrah's roommate for almost four years gave Charlie the right to be able to call herself as her best mate. She would like to believe that she knew her friend well enough to decipher what she feels just from the expressions of her face and her body language; there was no denying that Farrah was equally attracted to the Prince.

There had been many late-night chats, in which they had both spilled their secrets over pints of ice cream and non-alcoholic beer. Charlie knew that Farrah experienced her first kiss when she was 14, it was a stolen kiss in a playground full of children, but it was her first kiss nonetheless. She had crushes and felt butterflies flying in a frenzy in her tummy when she was a girl. But the stories seemed to lessen when her mother passed, and it absolutely stopped when her brother passed.

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