Radio Alwan

-6- Honey Eyes

She put on her jacket, kisses Dina on the cheek, and waved to the others ...

She put on her perfume right before leaving the building, 15 minutes will give time to the perfume to sink deep in her skin, become a part of her, declaring himself silently. She likes her screams to be silent. 

It is a warm night, as every night of Istanbul in the summer, so she decided to walk to Harbiye, walking through the Istiklal boulevard and observe the people to forget about the clinching stomach, racing heart, and shaky legs. This is her second date with Ahmed and she is afraid of his honey-colored eyes. Their first date was a bit awkward because they were both shy and he did most of the talking. But he still called her and asked her for a second date. 

He was waiting for her at the same table of a small coffee shop close to Divan hotel in Harbiye, he chose the same table and he was wearing a blue shirt this time. She took the chance to observe him while he was so busy sucking the life out of a cigarette.

He stood up as soon as he saw her approaching and he smiled as soon as his eyes met hers, she smiles back, she cannot resist these eyes.

He observed her as she made herself comfortable on the seat in front of him, she always tries to take her jacket first forgetting about her purse, she clumsily adjusted herself as her shoulder got stuck between the jacket and her bag. She finally broke free and sat while trying to hide her humiliation. When she sat they burst into laughter and somehow this was the beginning of everything.

He sips on his cappuccino trying to hide his anxiety and hoping it may give him some seconds to find the right words to tell her. She closed the menu to say something but she stopped and smiled at him: he froze as her looks were penetrating him, piercing his soul. ''I am in trouble'' he thinks.

Ahmed wasn't a handsome guy in a conventional way but she found him extremely beautiful. He had these kind eyes with the color of honey, in which she saw herself, luminant and shiny :) 
The thing she loved or liked about him the most was his grave voice: manly and sincere. His voice kept no secret from her. Leyla could sense everything through his voice. His nervousness when she just came to meet him, his happiness to see her, his excitement when she uses his name. He is falling for her, she just knows it.

They talked about politics and she felt alive because of his contagious passion when he talked about the situation in Gazza, in Egypt, or Yemen. Then the conversation switched to their preferences in music. Leyla found out that he also likes Idir ( an Algerian Berber Kabyle singer ) and her favorite singer was Sultan Ahmed, an underground Moroccan singer. Her Amazigh roots were flattered by hearing about his love of Idir, and it made him look even more appealing in her eyes.

Music, coffee, and politics...her favorite topics.

She likes to hear men talk about politics. Leyla thinks that you can know a lot about a man from how passionately he talks about it. The spark in his eyes, his emphasis on the words...He is definitely a passionate man...she is falling for him, he doesn't know it.

They kept on emptying cups of coffee as they were talking and talking, unaware of the time, they were asked gently to pay the check by the waiter, and they both shared a shy smile when they checked the time.

She waited for him outside and was adjusting her body so her hand can be visible and reachable to be held, but made her face look somewhere else.

He came but he was busy adjusting his wallet then tucking it in his pocket, her heart is racing, his hands are busy...his eyes are busy..before they began to walk, she did not think too much before reaching out to his hand, they walked silently for some minutes, both having the same goofy smile and content with this glorious moment...and both thinking the same two things. I am not lonely anymore . Thank you, Dina.