Him & His Muslimah

17

Zoya

She sprung up and dashed out of the room pushing her way out as Bilal's playful eyes followed her. Her cheeks were colored as she passed through the hallway and sprinted to her room. Had she unknowingly complimented his eyes? Silly-dumb-idiotic move. She stood against the wall of her room, panting as if she'd just ran a marathon.

What had just happened?

The moment their parents decided to scatter off, she knew she wouldn't be able to breathe properly. She had hoped Bilal at least would remain in the room but that didn't happen. On second thought, he'd just have teased her to an unimaginable extent.

Zaib had stared at her as if he were observing a painting and then he spoke and her throat became dry. She barely let herself look at him during the meeting but when she did, her chest swelled with ecstasy. He was absolutely gorgeous with his broad smile and jet black hair thrown to the back and some strands falling on his forehead, in his eyes as he talked. He was gentle with his words and his gaze held modesty. His green eyes reminded her of everything lively.

There was a part of her which was a quivering mess from the previous encounter but the other part was overjoyed; she was ready to burst and disperse into the thin air like the seeds of a germinating flower.

She wanted to be with him.

"Zoya, I want to marry you."

The words replayed at the back of her head. Her heart fluttered as she dropped down against the wall with the largest smile on her lips; the one she'd get whenever she ate honey cake or when she'd score the highest in her exam.

She had hoped her husband would be the man of her dreams but this was too unreal. Initially, she had come to the conclusion that such men were only imaginary. When she was only fifteen, her mother had warned her to expect only less so she'd never be disappointed.

Was Zaib the one who'd prove everything she was told, wrong--or was he going to stand tall on her mother's inception?

The ringing of a phone tugged her out of her muddled thoughts and she lifted herself up, telling herself to get in her right mind. The phone was on the bed, ringing terribly loud. She smiled to herself, realizing it would be her best friend who wanted to poke her nose into the deets of today's meeting.

She grabbed the phone and answered.

"Naim, I'm so—"

"Zoe?"

She silenced herself as she heard a familiar bright voice.

"I've got some amazing news sweetheart!" Ms. Brooke roared. Zoya awaited with curiosity.

"Is everything okay?" She muttered with furrowed eyebrows.

The adrenaline rush from before still had her panting and she was sure it wouldn't leave until Zaib left the house. "Zoe, I've talked to the head ministration and they've decided to offer a scholarship for the remaining year of your uni."

Zoya's mouth dropped in sheer disbelief.

What the—?

"W-what are you saying? I thought they didn't offer them and I even asked before but—"

"I personally talked to Sir Adams and he was devastated upon hearing about such a calamity befall your family. He's a good man so he decided to gift you these years of cardiology. He expects nothing but the best of results from you." The phone dropped from her grip as an unsettling sensation started up in the back of her throat. Her eyes swelled with tears as she fell into prostration, gratifying the only one worthy of it; the one who gave her everything upon one request. Allah never failed her hopes.