💎 Z A Y N 💎

13

"Everything is good right now, and I hope will be good later."

She nodded and they looked at each other for a moment, relishing each other's company, him smirking down at her while her mouth twitched into a slow smile. She cleared her throat and looked away; the spell broken.

"Zayn I think we should talk. Like now, as we work on this together. Otherwise it gets very - very, tense and I have a dinner at someone's later today," she informed him while setting up her project. Both had to do some type of art that interested them and combine their works, so he'd chosen Islamic Art and she had opted for mendhi (henna).

He took a deep breath.

"But first we should talk about ourselves in general for the competition - we have missed some days. Then we can talk about what's with us after we complet our project." She added on.

He nodded; relieved.

He didn't want any distractions or interruptions when he was talking to her about that.

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It was after college. Zayn and Syra sat in the college grounds, on the benches opposite each other. The sun was out with a cool breeze, a surprising weather in the middle of the winter, so quite a few students were out and about, no doubt intent on finishing their projects with the approaching deadline.

"So," began Syra, placing her foam cup on the table between them. Zayn mimicked her actions.

"So Syra. It's time we speak." he answered, obviously stalling. God he was being an absolute pussy.

"I think you should go first, Zayn," she said, fiddling with her hands, glancing up to meet his eyes.

"Well. I'm not one to beat around the bush. So, Syra. It's kinda obvious that there's something between. Surely it's not just my imagination. Whether it's be-" he gulped "- whether it some sorta sexual tension or just because you may not like the typa guy I am, I don't know. But I know what it is for me, and it's certainly not the latter. I'm not the best at this shit, but I want you to know that I - I kinda have feelings for you. Have had them ever since I saw you. And this ain't some passing fancy; transient regard or anything, but some deep shit. I've never been in love before, but I know what I feel for you ain't far from that. I don't know. But I know that I want you in my life, not just as some project partner. I suppose you know what I'm saying," he paused for some breath.

He felt very vulnerable right now, he needed reassurance from her that she was going to wait till he was completely done, regardless of her answer.

Syra looked stunned. Speechless, even. Now that was a new look on her. Her lips parted but no words came out. She faintly nodded, so he just took a leap of faith and proceeded,

"What I'm saying - no asking - is that will you marry me, Syra? You don't need to give me an answer right now of course, but I'm technically asking for your father's number, even though I know him. So I can ask him for your hand. But I need your consent before that, for this to go forward even if you refuse later on. The proper, Islamic way. Cuz it's the only way I can be with you without any problems. I know what you're thinking: I'm sixteen and he's seventeen. But I'm not asking you to move in with me right now - I am still studying. Just the nikkah untill we are old enough. And - wait there's no point in continuing with my life plans if you might say no, so. What do you say?" he was legit rambling now, scared shitless to hear her response.

He waited patiently, folding his hands on the table and sitting straighter while looking her straight in the eye, holding his breath.