Chapter 1: Encounter

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DISCLAIMER-

**For any new and old readers: This book incorporates close encounters with two characters (both of opposite genders) not in any way inappropriate but in an Islamic context, being in close contact (talking without appropriate reason, looking at, being inappropriately near, uncovered etc) with a non-mahram (person of which that individual is eligible to marry) is HARAM. One should always lower their gaze in front of the opposite gender if they are their non-mahram and avoid free talking. Of course, this is a work of fiction and I know I might come of as being hypocritical for saying this and then still including these scenarios into my story but you have to understand that in life (whether you want it or not) you will come across the opposite gender (be it in school or at work) especially here, since these characters have family that are close friends making lack of contact almost unavoidable. Honestly, it is up to YOU to control your emotions and temptations. These characters are NOT by any means PERFECT (slightly misguided in fact) like any of us here on Earth and the display of difficulty of being thrown into uncomfortable situations such as these encounters explored is seemingly relatable (maybe) to anyone. I also want to say that along the way, the characters develop the wrongness of it all. But the fact that these characters initially fall into thinking that what they are experiencing is normal is NOT what I am trying to preach. If any of you have feelings for the opposite gender, please do the right thing and talk to your parents about potentially marrying them. Any sort of dating and friendships to learn if you do in fact love them etc is WRONG. PLEASE DO NOT FREELY MIX WITH THE OPPOSITE GENDER OR TAKE THIS BOOK AS YOUR GUIDE TO ANY LIFE DECISIONS**
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This story is a journey, if you are patient, you'll hopefully like it! :)

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After a couple seconds of hovering over the doorbell, my index finger finally braves the act; this invokes the echo of an irritable ringing noise. I make distance between the door whilst gripping a tray that sweats to hold the home cooked food mama and I prepared.

The lengthening minutes exploit my exposure to the unwelcoming wind. I can empathize with my dancing teeth as soon as I look around.

The clouds have absorbed an angry grey tone. The lack of human existence feels like a novel sight; a symptom of this approaching storm.

I find myself feeling impatient when time races by me. The uncontrollable shivering eventually cuts off my last strips of tolerance. I resort to the infamous door knock. Strange enough, some background noise mutes, slow scuffling evolves.

My anxiety makes an appearance, acting in the form of repetitive shuffling, sweaty palms, and an overworking heart.

When the doorknob jerks to one side, I try to calm my breathing, but time fails me because the door swings open too fast.

Behind it, an overwhelmingly tall broad shouldered male figure surrounded by the blinding darkness of his vast foyer. The sight slightly increases the width of my eyes.

His physical presence further shovels the practicality of respiration. And it's only because I am overwhelmingly unprepared for this. Having to come by his house was one thing but his appearance was just another; It is thick of bitter sweetness. I attempt to focus on who's in front of me, aiming to win over the noise crowding my mind.

I deposit all my attention on how the baby blue shirt and loose grey sweatpants he is wearing, collides swimmingly with the unruly hair crowding around his head. My unintentional ogling doesn't seem to go unnoticed because his caramel orbs stare at me in amusement.

I attempt to compose myself while he stands there, an expectant smirk plastered across his face.

I quickly lower my gaze and helplessly search for the right words, while clumsily directing the tray towards him.

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