Embraced (#2 Natives series) #ProjectNigeria

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

            Before Going Back Home That day, Fatiha made sure her mother had already gone to bed. After her conversation with her auntie all she'd wanted to do as soon as she got home was lie in bed and sleep forever. But she couldn't. She was cornered by her youngest sister the instant she said her salaams and stepped her feet inside the parlor. Maybe it was the prospect of her finally getting married, but Nafeesah had pulled her into the room she shared with Zarah before she'd bombarded her with queries upon queries.

"So, did you like him? Did he like you? Are we going to be singing your wedding song soon? Oh, I can't wait!" Nafeesah had chirped and Zarah who had been applying henna on her fingernails looked around like she'd missed out on something important.

Madinah who had only followed the entourage had stayed by the door, her arms crossed and her expression phlegmatic. The impassive mask she'd wore only fell when Fatiha announced to the girls that her wedding song was still a long time coming. Madinah's hands had faltered a bit and her mouth had opened slightly with disbelief.

Nafeesah and Zarah had exchanged looks in tandem as Madinah strutted out of the room.

"Mommy won't like that answer," Nafeesah had muttered, her earlier effervescence vanishing like smoke. Zarah on the other hand had said nothing, but there has been a worried look on her face.

Fatiha hadn't responded to either of her sisters concerns, instead she had dragged her fatigued self down to her room and then to the enjoined bathroom where she had taken her bath. When she came back out, flushed from scrubbing and renewed with vigor, she knew Madinah had been in her room.

Hesitantly, she walked over to her dresser and sat down. The tips of her braided hair dropping water on her bare shoulders and neck. On top the secondhand wooden dresser was the set of lipsticks she'd given to Madinah as a bribe for going out with her that day.

Fatiha fingered the cover of one of the silver cased tint in the small lilac pouch they sat in, all five pieces intact. She had bought the set a few months ago because she'd loved their colours and figured it'd look aesthetically pretty with her products when she took snapshots of them for her business page. She hadn't used it ever since and figured Madinah would make much better use of them.

Taking to her feet, she tossed the face towel in her hand on her bed, grabbed the pouch and left for her sister's room. The light spilling out from her open doorway was the only source of illumination granted to her as she marched with determination down the darkened hallway and up to her sister's room.

Fatiha knocked once when she got to Madinah's door, and then stepped in without waiting for permission.

Donned in her favorite boy shorts and a tank top, a startled Madinah sprang up in her bed in alarm before she eyed the intruder. Her dark skin glowed under the streak of moonlight flittering into her room through the open window. The black and silver curtains which had been pushed to either sides of the large windows, fluttered side to side from the breeze the standing fan in the room circulated.

Madinah's face which was devoid of make up shone even in the dimness of her room thanks to the effort she put into her skincare routine. Crease lines appeared between her brows as she scowled at her sister. "I never said you could come in." She hissed.

Without saying a word, Fatiha trudged barefooted to the antique table situated by the window in the room, her maxi sleeping gown billowing under the volume of the fan rotating behind her. She dropped the pouch on the white wooden table, a simple table top she'd stitched years ago placed over the table.