Under That Scarf (Editing)

Chapter Fifteen

'I don't think persistency looks good on you,' Jamila's voice almost cracks.

'Really?' His stare intensifies. Harun what on earth do you have in mind...

Jamila nods silently. 'You know what I think?' Jamila sits at the edge of the bed.

'What?' She asks tenderly.

'We're wasting our words.' With that they soar into their world of love and passion all within the limits set out for them.

Too hot. Get up. Move. Ugh, too warm. Jamila jolts awake feeling stuffed, she tries to turn but realizes that two very strong arms are wrapped around her. You have got to be kidding me right now. She squeezes one of her arms out and reaches for Harun's phone which for some reason is on her side. 4:44? What? I need to have a shower. She peels his arms off gently and clambers out of bed.  She finds a white fluffy towel discarded on the floor, grabs it and rushes to the washroom.

 After her shower she hunts for her suit case. Why on earth is this room so big? Not this one, maybe it's in...ugh not there either. Where did I put it? Aha! Yes yes, track pants and Abdullah's old t-shirt. Wonderful. She changes hastily and throws on her Abaya; Jamila tip toes to the bed and peeks at Harun, unbelievably cute Walla.

'Harun! Wake up! We need to pray,' Jamila whispers and pokes his cheek. He blinks rapidly trying to adjust to the light; he takes in her sight and realizes what he needs to do.

'What time is it?' His voice is etched with sleep and exhaustion as he stretches. 

'Five o'clock! Go shower so we can pray!' Jamila averts her gaze from his body and stares at her phone.

'Alright,' he mumbles and staggers to the washroom.

'Allahu Akbar,' Harun announces for the last time. They are in their last sitting; they recite their Duas' quietly for approximately two minutes. 'Assalamu Alaykum warahmathu Allah.' Harun says twice whilst turning his head to the right and left. Jamila follows and the prayer is over. She can't stop smiling, AlhamdhuliAllah, something that I've dreamt of doing. Harun utters some Dhikr and does a voluntary prostration, he sits up to find a glowing face beside him.

'What?' His tone hoarse.

'Still sleepy are we?' Jamila grins and scoots closer till her knees touch his. He smirks at that and takes her hand in his. Could I possibly be happier than this? He glances at her to find her staring at him already; he kisses her hand ever so gently making sure his glance doesn't waver. Jamila feels the goosebumps bud on her arm -as she takes in the boldness of this man- but now she's grown so accustomed to it that she doesn't even realize. 'Recite for me,' she whispers. 

Harun folds his mat and lies on her lap. He gazes up at those molten brown eyes and begins reciting Chapter 85 from the Noble Scripture, Surah- Burooj. Jamila looks down at his handsome face and smiles proudly. She watches how his mouth moves so swiftly, she delicately plays with his hair. I'm tempted to stroke your beard but I don't want to distract you. How did I end up like this? Do I deserve this incredible man?