A Match Made In Jannah

Chapter 34

NABEEL'S POV

I woke up feeling lethargic as the call of Adhan was made. My head was throbbing and I felt as if I had missed something important in my life. I couldn't recall what had happened since I had left my room for a puff of hookah last night. I groaned, threw off the blanket and reached to the other bedside table to check the time on my alarmclock. Instead, my hand found the warm body of another person. I rose with a start and glanced at the person next to me.

Maariah lay there, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. With the exception of her underclothes, she wore nothing, and neither did I. She looked so peaceful with her brown locks cascading down her shoulders and onto the white duvet.

I took in the scene around me. Our clothes were strewn across the floor, the duvet was stained red and black with lipstick and mascara, and her make up was scattered everywhere. I rushed to the bathroom and saw that my face too was covered in her make up and I could smell her rich strawberry scent on me.

Suddenly, the night came rushing back to me. I remembered being dragged to my room. I remembered holding onto Maariah and nuzzling her soft, chestnut hair. I remembered hugging her tightly and then throwing her onto the bed as if she was an object that I could use as I pleased.

And the last thing I remembered was what Maariah said before I passed out.

"Nabeel, I've wanted this my whole life. I'm sorry that we had to be united this way, but life is unexpected. I love you Nabeel. And I'll never regret letting you do this to me. We were meant to be Nabeel, don't you see? We were each other's first times, why can't we be our lasts?"

I wanted to scream; to pound my fists against the concrete walls; to run to my mother and cry in her arms. I had done the worst thing a Muslim person could do. This was punishable by death, or at least one hundred lashes. I finally understood the wisdom behind the lashes, even if it wasn't the real reason. I wanted someone to whip me until I couldn't feel myself. I needed to be reprimanded for what I had done. I needed to be made an example of. I wanted people to hate me and to despise me for my sin.

I looked at the girl on the bed. Last night I had told her that she was beautiful. Now, as I looked at the marks on her back where I had clung to her, I wanted to claw into her skin and scream "Why??!!"

Why had she drugged me?
Why had she made me hurt her?
Why had she wanted to commit such a terrible deed?

I was beyond angry. I had approximately fifteen minutes before Fajr started and I had to have a ghusl and leave. I shook Maariah awake and watched her eyes widen as she saw the fury swimming in my eyes.

"Get up. Get dressed. Put on your abaya. Say you slept in the tent. Leave! Now!" I growled.

"N...N...Nabeel," she whimpered. "Why are you so angry? Please don't do this to me. You forced yourself on me last night. Not me. Don't get angry at me."

"I forced myself on you after you DRUGGED me... And then you very literally gave me consent," I yelled. "I'm not saying I was right, Maariah. All I'm saying is that you MADE ME DO IT TO YOU!!! I'm sorry if I 'raped' you after you gave me a drug that caused me to rape you!"

Her tears fell like a waterfall onto the bed, and for a second I felt really guilty, until I realised that she had stripped away my dignity and with it, made me strip away her izzat.

"Go to your room and have a ghusl. I don't think we have any more to say to each other," I said in a low voice.

"N...N...Nabeel? What's going to happen now?" she stammered.

"We don't tell anyone about it. Forget it happened. Make taubah and move on. Also, don't you dare speak to me again."

I shoved her out of the room and slammed the door behind her. With that, I opened the shower tap and had a freezing cold shower, just because I felt it was the least I could do to punish myself for all the things I had done.