Embraced (#2 Natives series) #ProjectNigeria

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

           IT WAS ALREADY PAST ISHA time when Fatiha announced that she was leaving the Madaki's residence. Nooriya had fallen asleep a few minutes in to the movie. Even though they hadn't spoken a word during those few minutes, Fatiha had felt more alone after her friend hit the sack. And so she couldn't keep the thoughts from coming back to her.

They say an idle mind is the devil's workshop; Fatiha's mind was anything but idle, however, it was definitely the devil's workshop. The thoughts came back like an explosion, causing her to be sick to her stomach. She hadn't been able to eat more than the single cookie Nooriya had handed her during the beginning of the movie for fear of throwing up.

By the time the end credits were rolling in, Fatiha realized for the first time that she hadn't sympathized with Jo March like she always did every time she re-watched the movie. Nooriya woke up apologetic, then promised to make it up to Fatiha. And she did.

Fatiha thought her friend was trying too hard but her honest efforts were more appreciated than she could ever know. For the rest of the day they talked about everything and anything, keeping away from talks about Faisal, and for the first time in a while Fatiha felt relaxed. However, that ended when Hussaina Ibrahim called out to her son.

"Na'am?"

Munir trudged into the kitchen cladded in a grey sweat shirt and softly wrinkled sweatpants. His eyes which were slightly bloodshot and hooded from sleep perked up the moment they landed on Fatiha.

Caught staring, Fatiha flinched then quickly darted her gaze from him to his mother, but not before she caught the curve of his lips. She didn't like the look in his eyes one bit.

"Fatiha," Munir called, his soothing voice thick with the evidence of his slumber. "Asalamu alaikum."

"Wa'alaikum salaam." Fatiha responded quietly without sparing him a glance. She was suddenly reminded again of the time she'd spent with him in Abuja. There was no way on earth she was going to let herself be alone with him again, she vowed.

"You look well." Munir noted, cutting into her thoughts.

Fatiha turned her head slightly to look at him, not sure what he'd meant by that. He grinned when he saw that he'd gotten her attention.

"How have you been?" he asked, settling his six-foot fit self down onto a kitchen stool so close to the one she was seated on. "After what happened the last time we met, I've been hoping to run into you again."

Fatiha opened her mouth to tell him to keep quiet, but Nooriya beat her to it. "She's not here for you. Never will be." His sister told him off with crossed eyes. A funny look behind her cat rimmed glasses.

"Ouch." He feigned hurt, that lone dimple popping as he grinned. "I think my heart just got broken. Is that right, Fatty? You didn't come to see me?"

"What do you think?" Fatiha reiterated without looking at him as she clambered off the stool. He was way too close for civilized discussions. Not that they ever had such a thing to begin with.

Under the kitchen's bright light, she could see how light the brown of his eyes were; like a pool of freshly produced honey. She also noticed how long and thick his eyelashes were, and she found herself tracing them as they grazed his high cheekbones ever so softly whenever he blinked. His was straight and aligned unlike her curled and nessy ones.

Under the florescent light, Fatiha was able to notice details she hadn't before. Munir had a scar on the side of his nose. It was small and barely noticeable but it was there, and if it was anymore bolder it would have ruined the near perfection of his handsome face. But it had his once straight nose. The scar, she figured could have been from a punch because she remembered Munir having a long and straight nose. Now it was crooked.