The Essence of Noah (Muslim story)

Cushions

Mum came to say for four days, a bit longer than the last time she came to visit, but still not long enough. Her excuse however is still the same; she doesn't trust Baba to take proper care of Albi while she's gone and to be honest, I wouldn't either. She flew in on Monday, a week after my 'date' with Noah, and has been here for three days so far. It feels nice to have her, or anyone, to share the apartment with. It feels warm and lively, more like a home rather than a place to live, but that could just be the feeling of spring that's currently in full bloom.

"That took longer than I thought." Mum drops onto the bed of cushions on the floor with an exaggerated sigh, breathless from trying to resurrect Gibbo.

"I don't get why you felt the need to do that." I speak bluntly, with a hint of indifference in my tone, though secretly, I appreciate the effort. I kind of missed the sumo.

"I like him, and I'll be more than happy to take him home." I smile as I walk around the kitchen and place to cups of shai on the rickety table. I know she wouldn't, Albi would puncture him as he greets him. "Ta." Mum says, taking the cup and blowing the steam.

I make myself comfortable on a cushion and mimic her, taking a cautious sip off the surface. "What time did you say your flight was tomorrow?" I ask.

"Noon, but check in is at eleven." I nod, memorizing the times and the kind of traffic to expect. "I can take a taxi."

"No, I'll drop you off. My lecture's at eight." As I speak I steal a glance at my balcony and the one next door. I've only spoken to Noah a handful of times in the past week, and with end of year exams coming up, I doubt I'll see much of him at all.

"Your neighbour's awfully quiet." Mum says. She saw him Monday evening on the balcony, and they spoke briefly about the nuclear waste dumping and the January protests, then again yesterday morning during her yoga session. To be honest, both times I was terrified mum would say something, let something spill about what I've been telling her about Noah and me, but she hasn't. Props to her.

"Exams are coming up soon, he's probably studying." I only glance at her momentarily as I turn back to the balconies.

"Do you miss him?" I snap my head back to her a little too quickly, almost tipping some of my shai.

"He lives next door." I quirk my eyebrows as I state the obvious, however, completely deflecting the question.

"But you don't see or speak to him every day." She clarifies, setting her shai on the table and pulling her knees under her chin.

"I can if I want to. I just don't want to bother him." I shift my gaze from mum to my cup and drag my finger along the rim.

"If he likes you, I don't think he'll mind." I ponder on her words, feeling amused and somewhat warmer than before. He does like me, but that doesn't mean he won't get annoyed. In all honesty, if I'm trying to study and he wants to talk everyday, I'd definitely get frustrated.

"There's no correlation between liking and minding." I state, earning a disapproving look from mum.

"What are you going to do then?" She asks. "Are you going to tell your dad?"

"I'm going to speak to Noah first." The thought alone of confronting Noah, makes me feel uneasy, but not as much as doing something haram. I don't want to fall into that trap, I've seen how it catches you and eats you up bit by bit everyday, that's not the life I want. So, I've decided that I'm going to be honest with Noah- I'm going to tell him that I do really like him, but I'm not prepared to go on more dates and risk a haram relationship.

Mum doesn't agree. She thinks I'm giving him an ultimatum- to either marry me or forget me-, and despite her being somewhat right, I don't have another option. It really is one way or the other, and the idea of it not going to plan has my stomach in knots and my heart drumming erratically, because I don't want this to end, whatever this is.

"See if he brings it up first," She compromises, "if he's been reading up, then he should know the way things roll."

"I guess." I take a long and loud gurgling sip of my tea, then lick my warmed lips.

"Speak of the devil." Looking up at mum, she nods her head to the balcony. I push myself back on the floorboards, away from view, with my eyes wide. "This is your chance." Mum mutters as she stands to open the double doors. "Hey, do you want a cuppa?" She asks him.

"Nah, I'm alright. Is Hana there?" I hold my breath and purse my lips, as I leave my cup on the ground and rush to my room to get a scarf.

"Hana!" Mum calls out to me, and I return, fixing my scarf and tucking away any loose baby hairs.

"Here." I say, making myself noticed by the door.

"Hey." Noah smiles, leaning against his banister a bit, with his hair now long enough to be tied back. Mum moves out of the way, letting me pass through, while she disappears into the apartment.

"Hi."

"Have you got time to join me?" He squats and sits down, threading his legs between the banister and letting them dangle.

"Yeah." I sit too, and wait for him to speak.

"How've you been?"

"I'm good. You?"

"Yeah, alright." He smiles, "Studies are getting tougher though." I nod in agreement. "But you know what I've been thinking?"

"What?"

"We haven't been out in a while and with exams we won't have much time to later." He slides his hand over his hair and settles it down on his thigh. At his words, my smile slowly fades and my heart beat picks up slightly. I should tell him, now would be a good time. "But it's cool if you don't want to, it's up to you." He hesitates, his own smile faltering at my reluctance.

"I uh" I swallow and offer up a half decent smile, "I wanted to talk to you about that." I pause, waiting for him to say something, and when he doesn't I continue with my pathetic game plan. "I um, I don't know how far you've read into you fiqu books, or if you've read about relationships in Islam." I stop the press my lips and actually formulate a proper explanation for what I mean. "'Halal' dating, I mean."

"The fact that it doesn't exist." He states, his expression unreadable, as his eyes move from one side to the other, searching my face.

"Yeah." I breath out. He knows then- he should get what I mean about the whole dating thing if he already knows it's wrong. It becomes quiet for a moment, as neither of us find words to say, or more accurately, I have no idea what to say. I'm stupid, is all I can think. But, at the same time I feel better knowing that I'm doing at least one thing right.

"So you don't want to see me then?" His voice is low, and the hint of disappointment in his tone is like an unprecedented stab. He should understand me, he should know what I mean.

"That's not what I meant, it's just we shouldn't be seeing each other if we don't plan on-" I bite the inside of my cheek as I try to think of a synonym to marriage that doesn't seem so forward, so pressurizing. "If we're not serious."

"I am serious." He comes quick to his own defense at my poorly articulated sentence, his words surprising and at the same time restoring the fervent beats in my chest.

"Noah, you're not getting me" I try again, feeling all the more embarrassed each time I try to find a way around it.

"You want me to marry you?"

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Who was expecting that? The story's slowly becoming more and more intense as it nears the end, and I'm kind of getting as emotional as the characters. I genuinely feel so sad that this is almost over, but not really in a way ;)

Also, I've posted a new story on my profile, and I'd really appreciate it if you have a read and let me know what you think. It's not a Muslim/Islamic story, so it won't be under Spiritual, but if you like TEON (or the way it's written at least) then maybe you'll like this new one. So far, I've only written the summary and a little intro, and I'll post the next chapter soon (most likely after TEON is finished)

Vote, comment, share- let me know what you think! :)