The Circle Of The Qur'an #1[The Arkaan Series] ✓

Crescent 18: Yasmin!(5)

ARKAAN'S POV

I can't believe I really went back there to help those sorry guys. I guess I really am the saint, right.

As I moved into the clearing, the first thing I notice is that, the place I've walked into is a grassy clearing. With undulating parts of the land, and a few flowers here and there, the atmosphere is refreshing.

As I walk further, I see some solitary trees. I step on something hard, clearly distinct from the soft meadow beneath. When I look down to see a sturdily embedded stone with markings, I realize this is the graveyard.

"Tâ Hâ's graveyard.."Eight years ago, I stood here with my mother. There was no marking because there was no grave. There was no grave because there was no body to be buried. We just stood on the hill, and marked the place in our minds - a lone tree, to commemorate my dad.

As I stood there, I thought I could still see my mum, her white clothes fluttering in the wind.

Even as I remembered all these, I reached the familiar tree, where we marked as my father's grave.

I climbed on the tree, sitting on one of its high branches. I was still stuck reminiscing, when I heard the soft rustle of the fallen leaves beneath me.

"You're Arkaan, right?" She called, obviously having heard the Eastern Halaqah boys call me by my name.

I looked down from my position on the tree. A girl about my age was standing underneath the tree, watching me curiously.

I dropped from the tree swiftly and landed right in front of the new intruder in the forest.

Immediately I turned, I studied her even as much as she did me.

She had a pleasant beige skin, shaded from being suntanned. With clear crystalline eyes like deep pools, and alluring velvet lips, she possessed all the feminine charms to a whole new grade, plus an amiable air that made her feel friendly. She was in her late teens like I was but everything about her spoke of glamour and extravagance.

If not for what I already felt in my heart towards another girl, I might have been allured by her.

She was dressed in a white blouse, blue jeans, and a black sleeveless overcoat tied with an elegant blue sash at her waist. The overcoat stopped short at her thighs, beyond which her blue coloured jeans appeared with heeled leather boots.

I could say she considered that as being completely covered, - except her ample form could not be hidden by her western styled clothing. She also wore a light velvet turban upon her head to make up for hijab.

I realized some tear stains underneath her eyeliner, which seemed to have almost been smoothly covered by her make-up keyword being - almost. She must have intentionally put on this air of positivity upon seeing me. Obviously, she had at least, shed some tears.

She would have still been beautiful without her extravagant make-up, but as I knew, some girls just overdid things sometimes to show their social standing and feel sophisticated.

Even though I knew I shouldn't be staring, but that first glance thing - especially since she drew my attention, was eating into me. I knew I was slowly losing my sensitization. I was slowly losing my hayaa, my lowering of gaze was becoming a thing of the past. I sighed inwardly. If my mother were to know - her adored adorned pillar was becoming sullied..