Protection

Timberlands

"You need this mosque trip"

"The hijabi girls hit differently anyway"

"Wallah Hassan you need not only a mosque trip but a whole umrah trip"

But he was right the hijabi girls are beautiful.

"You need it too. The only difference between us is that I say things out loud"

"You party the moment you are not hungover while I party at the weekends, only"

"That doesn't make you any better"

"I will pick you up at 5 be ready on time for once"

---

I was waiting for Hassan to come. As usual, he was late, that bastard. I will end up killing him one day. Then a presence with a crisp white shalwar kameez appeared in front of me wearing a praying hat. He looked like a quite religious person. He is probably going to the Milad too, maybe I should drive him, but in this neighborhood, the only Muslims are us, weird.

Then the realization hit me, this is our own harami Hassan. What the fuck, I can't even recognize the guy. He jumped inside, the smell of the attar I bought him from Dubai flowing in the car with him.

"And they say girls are catfish"

"What the fuck are you talking about"

"Nothing," I said still not able to recognize the guy.

"Are you falling in love with me or something?" he says

"You look so sharif in this attire and then you decide to open your mouth "

"Drive we are already late"

"And whose fault is that"

I turned the keys making my beautiful baby growl loudly. I could moan at the beautiful sounds this car makes. God, I love this car so much.

"I need new friends" Hassan mumbled for some reason. I rolled my eyes not caring about him. I love my car more than anything in this bloody world.

As we stepped inside the mosque Hassan was already glancing at the girl's sides of the mosque.

"This is a fucking mosque, not your club, keep your gaze down," I said lowly so only he could hear my voice.

"Why are you cursing inside the mosque astaghfirullah," he said loudly as a few old men walked passed us. The uncles were thankfully most likely deaf, I hope so. They have to be, they are hanging on a thin thread. Looks like I will have to come to this mosque a few more times.

I heard some girly laughter and when I looked at the source some beautiful hijabi woman walked inside the entry from the woman's section. I looked down in respect but they were pretty not gonna lie.

"If Abbo arranges me off to some of these girls I will forever be thankful"

"Sharam kar!" I said smashing the back of his head.

"Abbo is here," Hassan said and we both stood straight praying to God that he didn't hear our conversation.

"Assalamu Alaikum," we both said in sync like we were caught doing something bad.

"I am glad you both came," the uncle said. The black tattooing on his face was a contrast to his white attire, but his face was still full of noor/light.

"Like we had a choice," Hassan said happily.

"Okay firstly we need someone to put some stairs in the girl's room, who wants to do that"

"I can" we both said in sync again.

"Okay and after that lift that stage and put it in the middle. Lets's use those useless muscles you guys have to build for something good for once"