The Shades of Spring

Love is all the payment you need

Thursday noon found a certain young lady dancing around her bedroom while assembling an outfit for her second job.
The last day of school had let out early, giving her the chance to pop back home for lunch and properly freshen up before she headed out again. She fished the particular abaya she was looking for from an her best up luggage bag that housed her best clothes that wouldn't go in the small cupboard; because the bleached, desert sand-coloured dress went exceptionally well with the cream coloured hijab Dawood had given her as a parting gift. He had also slid her an envelope, begging her to not open it until she was properly back home, because he had put his heart into writing it and wanted his teacher to read it with complete attention. She knew for a fact that he will be missed when school reopened, because even Blaise's blunder couldn't keep him away from his favourite human in the building on the day he left.

After finding her necessary items, Sidra began to arrange the little trinkets she'd received from her kids as an ode of thanks. Artificial roses, a colourful charm bracelet, a handful of plaques and various other gifts were added to her shelf top, which had been virtually empty until she decorated it with the carnival mementos.
A small keychain from Hafsa which read "Mom Friend" was ringed with her room keys and a fluffy teddy bear that came in pairs (whose counterpart now resided with Hafsa) faced the wall while it sat happily, surrounded by smaller items. Sidra never liked teddy bears, even as child, but when Hafsa set her mind on something, she always saw it through. To the right of the bear was a wooden carving of miniature books and a coffee mug on a similar plinth, the plaque on which read "Books and Imagination" which Ayaan had gifted her after he clocked the girl fingering it. And at the very edge was a plastic badge pinned to a pale pink and deep grey striped shawl which were both college merch.
Of Ayaan's gifts, Sidra had mixed feelings. He'd bought both girls the college merch but it didn't sit well with Sidra to accept gifts from someone she barely knew. Yet, the warmth of his gesture, paired with his thoughtful selection of the same trinket Sidra had wished she could buy, because even that small price was too much to pay for an ornament, had made it impossible to turn the offer down. She was a little ashamed that she liked it best, though.

Hamza burst into her room when he heard about the potential stock of future hand-me-downs from his mother, unabashedly declaring he wanted the blue, glass pen holder when it broke.
"Child, I just brought it home," his sister whined, "And you're already planning on breaking it!"
"I'm not going to break it, I just want it when it breaks."
"How?"
"I don't know, maybe it will fall, like, when you accidentally shut the door too fast?"
Sidra protectively snatched away the pen holder and declared she would find a place to keep it safe and that at no cost, was Hamza to even set foot in her room if she wasn't in.

__________

"Aww, that's so cute!" Hafsa jumped up and down in front of the bathroom mirror, listening to Sidra's recount of her class boys' amazing surprise.
"I know right! Tommy ran so quickly when he saw me coming, I almost thought he was hightailing out of a fight," she was saying with such pride, "and then when I went into the class they had the collage ready and Hafsa...child...it was the bestest gift I ever received!"

Their art teacher had helped them make Sidr a collage out of hand drawn and hand crafted arts from each of them stringed together and also surprised her with a collection of letters, to show how much they loved their hero. In comparison, the things she bought for the boys had rapidly paled in her sight. The honest, sincere love she received from those little hearts overwhelmed her beyond words.

They spoke more about it on the way to their floor, until they literally ran into Musa coming from the opposite direction. With a loud thud, he dropped the small antique wooden chest he was carrying, spilling forth its dusty contents and collecting more than one sharp look from readers in the vicinity. His eyes went wide with shock and with burning ears, he hastily crouched to pick up the things with help from the girls.
"I'm so sorry," Hafsa mumbled, "Wallahi, I didn't see you coming."
He muttered something incoherent in reply. "No I am. Here, let me bring this for you," Hafsa offered, holding a roll of parchment which surprisingly refused to go back in there without getting crushed.
"It's okay, Hafsa. I'll take it."
"No. Please. I'm sorry," she repeated, implying it was for something more than just colliding with him.
Their eyes clashed for a moment before Hafsa's flickered away in shyness, eliciting a small look of surprise in his. Sidra watched the exchange with growing curiosity and a strong urge to go Oh My God!!! with a suggestive smile and saucer sized eyes. The short meeting ended abruptly with a nod from Musa before he walked away from the duo, leaving a rather flustered Hafsa with her amused friend.

Sidra felt her tongue electrify with the string of questions she was dying to ask, but most of her self control was employed to not narrow her eyes abd gaze form face to face like a fool. When the girl with the parchment roll shot her a part annoyed, part embarrassed half glance, that was all the confirmation she needed.
"Is-"
"Hold it," Hafsa cautioned before Sidra got out a proper word, "I'm only feeling sorry for embarrassing him in front of these people and for how I yelled at him in the....the place. Nothing else."
"Hafsa, I'm not an expert in this field, but I say I felt a spark. Are you even sane?" her friend was now grinning from ear to ear.
"Sidrathul Munthaha. Stop it. Now."
"Hafsa...."
"Shut your face."
"You li-"
"Ya Allah," Hafsa groaned.
"You're in-"
"No woman. I forgot to ask where he's going."
_______________

Every day after that, Sidra observed them closely and found nothing that aided her hasty conclusions. Hafsa was acting almost like it never happened, and Musa was his usual friendly self that stopped by to chat with her.
Neither displayed any signs of mutual attraction which pretty much bore holes in the ship Sidra had started to build, threatening to sink it before its maiden voyage itself. She didn't know much about how people actually knew they were attracted to each other, but she was beyond convinced that what she saw in Hafsa's eyes that day was the reflection of what she'd seen in Thahani's eyes the first day Zubair had met her after she accepted the proposal.

She thought back to every incident in memory that involved these two, and spectacularly failed to identify any other point where she'd seen a similar spark. She grunted and tossed in bed, looking really really hard to locate wood to repair her new ship.

In the end, realising just how desperately she hoped she was right, she threw the pillow up and caught it in frustration. It wasn't very often that Sidra shipped people; she almost religiously refrained from spinning fairytales involving people she saw everyday, because if it didn't go that way, seeing those people became quite awkward with her image of them standing behind her eyeballs. But the MuHaf ship was too cute to abandon now.

She loved Musa because he was like her own mirror image in a masculine body. They both thought too deeply, walked in measured steps, hated unpredictability, enjoyed sitting in silence and lived mostly inside their own heads. He was thus far the nicest, most polite man closest to her heart outside of family and had been there for her from the begining of her career at Myrethorne; be it hanging around on nights her pick up was late, or covering for her when she was late to work or keeping a ready stock of snacks for whenever she missed lunch, Musa Malik was the ideal big brother. He currently occupied the throne in her platonic relationships list.

He was patient, kind and hard working, but took life too seriously at times, forgot to laugh and often got lost in his mind. To someone like him, a girl like Hafsa would be the best match.

Her loud friend had a fiery temper and a little thick ego. But her heart was gold. She was a big softie beneath that loud mouth, the life and soul of every gathering she attended, always had a laugh to share or a dense joke to mull over, never one to hold grudges and always the first to notice if Sidra was slipping into one of her less favourable moods.
Where Musa couldn't see good, Hafsa would be able to shine a torch directly at it and where Hafsa deviated from rational thinking, Musa would tether her to reality.

Sidra smiled at how perfect it seemed. Two people who complete each other. For the likes of Hafsa and Musa who work to make the world a better place in their own small way, perhaps love was all the payment they needed.