Join me, let's unravel the story of two different people. He's a gardener in her father's house and she's treated like a slave in her father's house.
A mother's love is the sacred kind of love. The love that wherever you are, no matter who you are...
He smiled, A genuine smile. He's glad he had finally secured a job, not only a job but a place he could finally put his head down and have some peaceful sleep without the fear of bandits.
Taking up the sprinkling can, he wandered around watering the flowers.
There, he spotted her knitting perfectly.
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Was she melanin, or the shade better and exclusive only to her? Was that really brown? Or the most beautiful color that exists?
She had brows, the kind of brows that were arched to perfection. Brown! She darkened it in a way you cannot help but linger your eyes.
She looked up and their eyes met.
When she looks at you, you feel the charisma, your heart is pierced by that ball of white and black that gloriously shine.. the kind of shine that is better than sunshine.
Slim and slender, bridged and placed right below the wonder of her eyes was her nose.
Beneath it is a glossy oily thing you see. Oh hey, it's a gloss! Her lips were lined with the natural color of brown, the middle, some shade of pink. Small, pouty, lips. Brown, again! There was something, somewhere smooth, cleaned and polished with the dust of brown and bronze that sit appropriately where necessary, and all of her, was placed on this. Oh, brown.. again! Her skin is gold!
It was silky, and shiny, dreamy.. oh, how much he wanted to touch that. Black, curled, and tied.. her hair was devine.
She covered herself in a kind of veil that screamed.. modesty.
Unknowingly, Zulekha smiled.
When she smiles at you, your heart melts, and your brain.. numb.
She was the epitome of beauty.
Lowering his gaze, he continued his work and she continued knitting wondering why a good looking guy will just appear in the garden and start watering the flowers.
He was dressed in a black long sleeve shirt with a chinos trouser. He got dark full brows. There, on the bridge of his nose, lied a pair of shades, while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of him will leave you mouth agape and drooling! His pink, soft, moist, shaped looking lips, covered beautifully by his dark, silky beard.
"Zulekha, you're here. Mama is back." Ya Faruq announced and she knew her happy moment is over.
She was so happy when Mama said she was going to visit a friend and immediately when Mama left, Ya Faruq handed her a new crochet and she couldn't be more happier.
She sat in the garden enjoying her knitting, but now that Mama came back she just had to go back inside.
"Have you met our new gardener?" Ya Faruq asked and she whipped her head to the side.
Surprisingly, she asked. "Gardener?"
Ya Faruq glanced at the new gardener, "yes, Surprised too. Looking too good to be a gardener."
She nodded.
"Good day sir." The new Gardener turned around. She watched as they exchanged pleasantries. He looks older than Ya Faruq.
They walked into the main house, and there she met her brothers taking ice cream and she mentally rolled her eyes.
Ya Ahmad carried away the whole tub and settled on the couch leaving Ya Umar on the rug. He didn't even try to stop him which was a first, he only looked at him and threw the spoon at him which he luckily dodged.
Ya Umar glanced at us and turned away, Surprising.
"Dude you're so boring." Ya Ahmad turned to us, taking a spoonful of his ice ream. "Spice it a lil bit."
Ya Faruq face palmed himself. "With what? Curry or thyme?"
He didn't wait for his reply as he dragged away Zulekha with him.
"I will be in my room, see you later." He smiled and she smiled back. She will forever be grateful to Allah for making Ya Faruq her brother.
There in the kitchen, she met Mama. "Welcome back Mama." Mama nodded.
"Pick this." Mama pointed at the two coolers on the kitchen island. "One for the gateman and one for the gardener."
She picked them up and sauntered out.
"Wasila kinci amanata." Ya Umar sang as she was passing by. She almost let out a laugh but she quietly passed leaving Ya Ahmad to do the laughing.
That explains his attitude earlier, His girlfriend broke his heart, Wasila. Serves him right.
"Good Afternoon Malam isuhu, I brought your Food." She said cheerfully.
"Thank you, May Allah shower his blessings on you." He prayed wholeheartedly.
"Ameen."
"Assalamu Alaikum, i brought your food." She said to the new gardener who was seated on the bench, his elbows were kept on his knees and he placed his hands on his chin thinking of only God knows.
"Wa'alaiki Salam, thank you." He collected the cooler, smiling. He loves smiling she thought.
She turned around to leave when he stopped her.
"You forgot this earlier." He handed her the crochet and she smiled genuinely. "Thank you."
He nodded and bent down to pick up the crochet hook. "This too."
She gladly collected it too, thanking him. "You seem to like knitting."
"Yes." She replied curtly. She loves knitting, it's her favorite thing to do. "Bye Mr.." she trailed off.
"Tariq." He responded.
She smiled because she finds the name cute and childish.
When she looked up and stared at his twinkling eyes, she knew there's a story behind his smile.
"Nice to meet you, Tariq."
Hello buttercups❤️🥰How're you all doing? Fine in shaa Allah!
We've met our gardener 🤸🏻♀️finally! I'm so excited 😆👯♀️i can't wait to dive into the story😁
And yesss the big brother Award goes to Ya Ahmad🧐🤨
Ya Umar is heartbroken! 😂😂Who remembers this hausa song "wasila kinci amanata." 😂😂i guess very few will remember.
Vote, comment and share please🤩i love Y'all❤️
I need your comments pleaseeeee❤️🤗it keeps me going.
