𝓜𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮

17# YOUR CHOICE

THE KHALIL RESIDENCE,
ASOKORO.
JANUARY, 2021.

There was beauty.

In the world.

In people.

In things.

And with everyday that passed, Jamilah was reminded of that fact.

She'd find beauty in the sight of the sun setting in the evenings, in the sight of herself watching the sun set, the hues of reds and oranges painting her skin in such a way her breath would seize.

And she'd have to remind herself, 'Jamilah, breathe'.

She'd find beauty in the wind. When it picked up speed, howling as it raced through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle, the windows to creak against burglaries, the curtains to billow.

And sometimes, the wind would slow down, caressing her cheeks, her hair, and as absurd as it sounded, Jamilah felt like it caressed her heart too, setting life to her insides, inciting a warmth she couldn't control.

Sometimes, she'd think the winds could speak like humans could, that they could laugh, like they could feel.

She wasn't sure if the thought made her sound a bit sick in the head, but she did know one thing. That she was a small part of something far larger than herself, something palpable, far from touch yet so close she could almost taste it.

But as much as beauty was palpable, the world was filled with more than that.

Much,.....much more.

It was filled with anger, with hatred, with ugliness.

......with confusion.

Confusion.

She'd been trying to suppress that one feeling.

It'd lingered for a while, blurring her thoughts.

She couldn't help that her mind would conjure up things she didn't want to think about.

Things about Jamil.

She couldn't help but remember everything about that day. From when he'd asked her to spit her food into his hand, up until he'd left the restaurant.

In his defence, he hadn't been the one to incite her ludicrous thoughts. If anything, he'd made himself scarce, much more scarce than before.

She'd seen him a total of two times since the day at the restaurant. Both, in passing.

She'd even heard Hajia Hafsah the day before ask him to come home more frequently. He must've been spending nights in his studio.

Jamilah found herself extra jumpy, extra sensitive in the past few days.

Her heart would quicken when a car would pull up in the driveway, eyes flitting every few seconds to the door.

She hated herself for hoping that the person who'd walk through those doors would be Jamil. She hated that she would be getting married to Ayman in two weeks, and she was seeking his brother.

She liked Ayman. She was sure she did.

But she also knew that somehow, Jamil was making his way through her heart.

And was he fast!

In just a few days, she'd replayed every memory since meeting him like a broken record.

She felt conflicted.

The thoughts of Ayman still brought warmth to her heart and a smile to her face. She still melted when she saw his smile, and still thought of him as the kindest person she knew.