BFFs: finding love again

16. Khadeejerh

Azanraba pants as he reaches the front of the building. Ibn Muhammad Rehabilitation Madrasah, it reads. He just hopes that Allah would forgive him for using sorcery to find Fatima.

He enters and reaches Fatima's room. Noticing that she is changing, he decides to give her some space. Yes, he might be a Jinn that has harmed alot of people in the past but he's changed now and despite the fact that he loves Fatima and is going to make himself known to her tomorrow, he's still going to give her her well deserved privacy.

Fatima lays on the bed removing her headtie before drifting off to sleep. Azanraba or better called Muhammad, lays beside her. She didn't perform ablution nor did she say her prayers before sleeping so she isn't protected from him by any means.

He wraps his hand around her waist making her move closer to him before he also falls asleep. The heat her body is emitting is enough to make him want to do alot of things to her. But for now, cuddling would have to do.

Amal lays flat on her bed facing down as she chats with Hamza. A grin covers her face as she sees the eighteenth video call he is requesting for. She's feigning anger because he didn't post her picture on their one month anniversary which is today.

She finally decides to call when a message comes in.

I'm outside in my car waiting, come out.

She smiles before switching off her WiFi, leaving Hamza on read. She slips on a Hijab and walks out. She doesn't care if it's almost midnight, she needs to see him.

Fatima huffs and puffs as she twirls the Nokia 222I in her hands. She has never in all her twenty four years of life held a button phone, palasa as Nigerians call it. And to say it was some stupid stranger that gave it to her. She already hates this so called Aqsam Muhammad.

Fatima is brought out of her train of thoughts of various ways to teach Aqsam Muhammad a lesson when someone knocks on the door. She groans before muttering a come in. The same lady that collected Fatima's phone comes inside.

"Aqsam said to call you that your first therapy is scheduled for five minutes from now." The lady says trying to act oblivious to the death glare Fatima is sending her way.

Fatima just nods in reply and the lady leaves. She rummages through the bigger of her two suitcases for something comfortable but not too revealing to wear.

"He has already seen me doing unspeakables, so what am I hiding again?" Fatima muses as she comes across a pair of black leggings. She picks them up and wears a black oversized sweater she took from Sa'eed's old room.

After wearing them, she adds her pink furry slippers then packs her braided hair with a baby ribbon before adding a black cap. She skips like a three year old outside before remembering that she didn't pick her phone, neither did she use any perfume.

She goes back and sprays her signature perfumes, Avon far away, Al-Madinatu Al-Haramain and Celebrate. Satisfied with her scent, she skips outside again with the Nokia 222I in her hands. She tries to remember where his office is. But she never knew where his office is located.

Sauntering back to the room, she calls the reception number written in a phone book using the intercom on the side drawer.

"Hello?" Fatima calls once the call is picked.

"Assalamu Alaikum Warahmatullahi Wabarakatuh." The person on the other end answers.

"This is room 130 from the first floor, Fatima Abba Sulayman. Uhm, I need to know where Aqsam's office is located." Fatima asks contemplating on to call him Aqsam or what? The lady that was here the other night called him Aqsam so why can't she?

"His office is the room at the extreme end of the corridor. It doesn't have a room number so it should be easy to find. Ma'assalam." The receptionist answers and the line goes dead.

Fatima walks out and sees a room right after hers. But it has a room number. The receptionist says it doesn't have a room number but that is the last room in the corridor. Fatima shrugs and bursts open the door without saying a salam.

The door opens to reveal a dripping wet Aqsam. A white towel is tied from his navel down to his knees. His huge muscles are a huge contrast to what she saw yesterday. A large name tattoo 'Khadeejarh' is scribbled boldly in cursive across his stomach hiding his slightly prominent pacs.

Heats creeps up Fatima's face and she quickly turns away after she sees that he has noticed her checking him out.

"I... I... I was looking for... for your office." Fatima stutters blushing heavily.

"It's the room directly opposite yours." Aqsam curtly answers anger evident in his voice.

Fatima nods and walks to the said room. It's the only room on that side of the corridor. It is bathed in oyster white and pine. It's a long room. In front of the door is a black leather swivel chair and a large spruce table with different Islamic books on it.

By the left is a large brown frame of Ayatul-Kursiyy. At the extreme end is a large door. Beside the door is an oyster white couch with a pine ottoman in front of it. Two prayer mats sit by the right. Then plain oyster white tiles cover the floor.

Fatima proceeds to open the door and a vast space greets her. Ropes, chains and a large wooden chair sit by the far end of the room. Three incense burners are connected to the quad sockets. Fatima's MPlayer is also connected. But something looks off in the room. A lone lamp holder sits empty. It's engraved with wierd designs.

Fatima moves over to the lamp holder and caresses it, carefully assessing it. The wierd design up close is actually Arabic writing, a name to be precise. It says "Khadeejarh" in Warsh Arabic writing.

Who is this Khadeejarh?

A deep voice jerks Fatima out of her trance.

"What are you doing there?" She turns to see Aqsam standing there in all his glory wearing a beige jallabiya.

"Nothing." she mutters moving away from the lamp holder.

"What were you thinking when you entered here? Why did you touch her?" Aqsam asks dangerously, caressing the lamp holder like an egg that's about to hatch.

"You... You... I... I..." Fatima stammers, cold shivers running down her spine. She surely doesn't like this Aqsam, she prefers the cold and stoney one. She doesn't like this one that looks like he'll snap her head away from her neck with one wriggle.

But one question, who's her? Is the lamp holder what he calls her?

"Don't you ever come here unless I bring you here. Fahimtee?" Fatima nods quickly.

"Jayyid. Let's go back to my office." And the cold stoney Aqsam is back. 

He leads them back to the first room and shows Fatima to a chair in front of the spruce table. Fatima sits down and Aqsam gives Fatima a once over.

"Go and change." He says curtly.

"Excuse me?" Fatima says, attempting to raise a brow but failing miserably.

"I won't repeat myself." Aqsam says dangerously.

How does he do it? One minute he's all cold and stoney, the next he's speaking dangerously like a criminal. He must be bipolar!

Fatima gulps before huffing then stomping out. She won't give him the satisfaction of seeing her scared. She comes back with a veil but the same cloth. Aqsam groans in annoyance, this is going to be a long disastrous day.