Tale In The Red Sand

Chapter Eight

Hibaaq found herself staring up at her canopy bed's cushioned ceiling, huffing and puffing as her brain raced with unbelievable notions. She was hindered by ceaseless pondering ever since Layla had left her house in the early afternoon, and now early morning slowly approached. She had stayed awake for hours in her bed, so intently thinking over her 'confused' feelings that she forgot to sleep altogether.

She grew afraid as they took her further away from sleep, and she began to consider the sudden attraction she felt towards Ercole, and the dulling one towards Abdihakeem. The only guy she ever saw as a man. Funnily enough, she felt as if she were betraying a secret pact by daring to find another man charming and...slowly become intrigued by him. She simply couldn't give up thinking, there was no switch in her brain to turn off, so she tried divulging what was in her head into her journal, but was intimated by that also. The only thing she wrote was a question mark on a blank page under the diary entry.

She let out an exasperated sigh as her cheeks warmed up in helpless humiliation, and her whole body felt as it were igniting in flames. Hibaaq couldn't contain the nest of butterflies that erupted in the pit of her belly and her heart beat as if it were about to beat out of her chest.

"Oh no." She said out loud, her voice coming out raspy and dry from the lack of use. Thereupon, she recalled hearing about these strange symptoms a time ago. She heard it in high school from a friend that swore she was in love, and described the feeling as just what Hibaaq was going through. Sweaty palms, racing heart, a sudden heat flush and a capsizing stomach.

"You barely know the guy." She remarked, shaking her head. Hibaaq swung her feet off the side of the bed and stood up to go get herself a cup of cold water to sooth the dryness in her throat and hopefully freeze over the turmoil in her head. "Besides you have other things to worry about." She added as an audible confirmation. She walked as quietly as she could and took short intakes of breath, but her irritating slippers kept making a clapping sound on the cool marble floors, so she quickly took them off mid stairway and kept them in hand until she finally reached the kitchen. She doubted the sleeping folk could hear her shuffling about in the early hour of the morning, though it was better safe than to be sorry.

She would be absolutely mortified to wake her father up by mistake and have him ask her why she was roaming about so early, evidently, when she had nothing better to answer with but that it was all the doing of his business partner, shamelessly invading the solitude and serenity in her mind.

"Hibaaq"? She heard a deep voice call, causing her to burst out in a yelp, sending a slipper flying across the dark room to be met with a painful grunt and a clatter she assumed was one of the dish cupboards shutting closed. "Fanculo." Another groan followed and before Hibbaq could send the other slipper and let out another alarming scream to alert those still asleep of an intruder, her mouth was instantly cupped by a large and warm palm. "Shh, it's just me."

She widened her eyes and gasped, though the sound was muffled by the palm that was still over her mouth. Hibaaq soon recognised the deep voice, belonging to none other than Ercole, and that it was him standing so near her where she could feel his warm breath on her face, and his chest, a mere hairsbreadth away from her own, rising and falling rapidly. Perhaps it was because of how fast he covered the floors to stop her from screaming or from how close they were in a dark kitchen and in a sleeping house where one could hear a tiny pin fall without strained ears.

"What the hell." Hibaaq could barely utter past Ercole's hand before he removed it, instead it rose an inch by the side of her head to switch the light on.

Hibaaq began to silently panic as she watched the spotty shadow of his arm rising near her face, and a draft of wind blew warningly towards her neck. She didn't stop the frenzied squeak as the situation dawned on her. She wasn't wearing a hijab! Without a second to think, Hibaaq took a hold of his fingers, feeling for the light switch on the wall, and fortunately enough he couldn't find it as it was obstructed by the cloud on her head. She desperately hoped he wasn't in the dark long enough for his eyes to get used to it, and risk seeing Hibaaq's obscured mass of black hair raised up in a big bun.