{16} Observing Beauty

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Damon Winters

I tapped my pencil against the scratched desk, a rapid rhythm mumbling against a wooden surface and following the ticks from our clock. Sighing, I leaned back, borderline insane from the slow ticking of a clock, telling me that time was just as slow as my mind processed it.

We were currently in science class taking a test. I finished early as usual, but I had a lot of time still left over. I looked across the room at Amira. 

She was writing fast and kept looking at the clock, trying to race against time. I looked around me to see if anyone was looking, but no one was. Turning my attention back to Amira, I found myself getting lost in her little testing antics.

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, subtle brown eyes wildly searching for answers on her sheet. Amira seemed as lost as a bat during daylight hours, wondering where her mistakes her and whether her certainty was accurate.

Testing was always easy to me. There was a technique to all tests, and once I figured it out, there was no holding back my perfect scores or the close to perfect ones. Even my SATs were outstanding compared to most of the nation.

But above average test scores didn't make my life any better.

Sure, my education was set to go, ready to face all the intellectual obstacles that would cross my path, however, my determination vanished. My mind harassed me late at night about Luqmaan and my father, two men who managed to scar my life without knowing it.

Luqmaan made me doubt myself. My father made me pull out hairs. Both damaged and complicated souls that roamed the Earth in hopes of finding their purpose. I was becoming just like them.

Now is not the time for this, I thought as I brought my eyes back to Amira's tense form.

I couldn't bring myself to look away from her. She was wearing a blue scarf with a loose gray sweater that hung at her hips and jeans that hugged her thighs, most likely unknowingly. Amira would never wear something that purposely attracted men to her figure. She didn't need a man's validation or compliments.

She looked absolutely beautiful in anything she wore like she was the sun herself, radiant and pure, spraying the bright rays against my cold-hearted self. Even when she didn't try to look good, she looked good.

I sighed, leaning my cheek against my hand. Amira let go of her bottom lip, licking them when the dryness got to her. Man, I really wanted to kiss her sometimes. I knew I couldn't and I knew I shouldn't feel this way, but she had me falling hard for her. I wondered if all I felt was lust.

How could I, Damon Winters, a self-proclaimed hater of all things spiritual, start liking a girl who was the exact opposite of me? Sure, we had interests. Sure, she understood me. And sure, she knew how to comfort me, but she was a Muslim.

I couldn't trust her yet. My brain refused to, but my heart leapt towards her whenever she was within my presence. I had no idea when these feelings arose or how they came to be, yet denying them for such a weak reason wasn't going to work out anymore.

Amira was untouchable, clean of any other man's touch. Her chastity was guarded by an unbreakable force that refused to open the gates for anyone. 

I knew many other guys at school had spared Amira a couple of glances, thinking the same as I, but there was no way of getting close to her. She was protected from our prying eyes, from our hunger, from our thirst.

Suddenly, I felt an eraser chuck my head. I turned in my seat and saw Tye and Thomas with grins across their faces. I glared, flipping them off with my finger. Immature as it seemed, it was logical.

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