Dare You To Love Me

«30» a delicate dance

Fou'ad waited for Yaseerah by the foot of the stairs, Amina's parting words echoing in his head.

Seconds seemed to stretch on like eternity as he shifted his weight from one foot to another, each passing moment only intensifying the knot of emotions coiling in his chest.

The second he saw her though, the last thing he wanted was to walk through those doors, and visit her father.

Every worry, every doubt, every lingering resentment melted away, as he beheld her, his gaze drinking in every detail hungrily like he was a prisoner on death row.

Dressed in a sage green halterneck jumpsuit, a black sheila and a beige princess swing coat, she looked so damn beautiful, it hurt.

She descended with a grace that rivaled the gentle sway of a willow in the breeze, the soft glow of the chandelier above bathing her in a warm radiance that accentuated the delicate curves of her figure and the subtle contours of her face.

Fou'ad's heartbeat seemed to synchronize with the ticking of the clock nearby, each second stretching into eternity as he waited for her to draw nearer.

His mind raced with uncertainty, his heart yearning to reach out to her, yet his fear of rejection held him back.

For a moment, time stood still as they locked gazes, a thousand apologies passing between them in that charged silence-unspoken yet palpable.

Yaseerah's thoughts churned with conflict, torn between the desire to open up to him and the fear of exposing her vulnerabilities, hating the barrier that separated them-even though it was of her own making.

The air crackled with tension, as they stood in silence-Yaseerah still on the stairs, him at the bottom-each waiting for the other to break the spell.

Not a word passed between them, but the weight of their unspoken conversation hung heavy in the air, filling the space with anticipation and longing, until she was moving again, taking the first step.

When she finally stood before him, their breaths mingled in the small space between them, the warmth of her presence enveloping him like a warm cocoon.

He could feel the magnetic pull between them, the mere inches that separated them from touching, seeming like a chasm they couldn't cross.

Rather than invade her personal space, he waited for her to pad over to him, pissed at the way she dithered, her gold-grey eyes heavy and hollow, her shoulders rounded like she was trying to make herself as small as possible despite her five-six frame.

At last, Yaseerah broke the spell, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm ready."

Fouad nodded, his throat tight with emotions. "You look... breathtaking," he managed to choke out-his voice thick with sincerity-watching as his words settled in her bones, rattling her to the core.

Her guarded expression softened, her eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and longing, as she hid a shy smile.

The relief that hit him was instant.

She cared.

Something flickered in her eyes, a subtle shift that left him confused and uneasy. His brows furrowed, because despite her lips curving up into a smile, her face remained impassive.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Though he reveled in the smile his words had wrangled from her, he saw unease start to drift back into her expression, and it left him feeling hollow.

He half-hoped she would share her concerns with him, but whatever progress he had made over the past few weeks with her had been stunted by his lies.

Her chin angled up and she inhaled briskly through her nose as if she were coming to a decision she wasn't letting him in on.