Accepting You

Chapter Sixteen

Saturday. Yusuf's first date. Proper date. 

He wasn't counting all the ones his mother and aunt had surprised him with. They didn't matter.

Even though it had only been four days since Yusuf had started speaking to Asiya, their conversations were fluent. They wove between serious and light-hearted topics and easily returned each other's banter.

Yusuf wished he had a remote to pause time when he and Asiya spoke.

There weren't enough hours in a day for him.

Yusuf would continue their conversations until his brain shut down, surrendering his body to sleep, or until Asiya ended their conversations.

When she did, Yusuf would re-read their messages, reliving the warm, fuzzy feelings he had felt, and he would recite her words aloud like a lullaby until he fell asleep.

Yusuf looped the laces on his shoes before checking his appearance in his mirror.

Online reviews had described the restaurant's vibe they had settled on as casual.

Yusuf had followed the dress code loosely, opting for dark trousers, a white T-shirt, and a dark walnut top thick enough to double as a coat. Adam had called it a shacket when Yusuf sent him the link and asked for his opinion.

Yusuf closed his room door softly. His absence in the house wouldn't be missed. His housemates were out.

Yusuf wriggled his fingers in his pockets as he travelled. 

His hands felt empty. He hadn't gotten Asiya a gift or flowers because they would meet with Imam Abdullah at the masjid individually before they all walked to the restaurant.

Yusuf entered the masjid and took the stairs to Imam Abdullah's office.

Asiya entered Yusuf's view as he stepped onto the floor. Yusuf twisted his body to the side, brushing his back against the wall so Asiya could walk past.

"Asalamu alaykum," Asiya greeted.

Yusuf closed his eyes as Asiya stepped past him. "Wa alaykum salam," he responded.

"Are you okay, Yusuf?"

Yusuf opened his eyes. Asiya stood at the top of the staircase, a few feet away from him. Heat simmered up his neck as Asiya scrutinised him.

"Oh, erm." Yusuf coughed and rubbed his hands over his neck. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you. It's nice to see you."

The sides of Asiya's mouth pinched slightly.

Yusuf couldn't see his face, but he could feel it. Heat was flushing up to his face from his neck, and his ears were prickling like they were sunburnt.

"It's nice to see you, too. I told Imam Abdullah I'd pray and wait for you two downstairs," Asiya said.

Yusuf nodded and turned away quickly. The air was suffocating him. "I'll see you soon, InshAllah."

Asiya didn't reply, but Yusuf heard her footsteps fade down the stairs.

Yusuf pressed his hands against his neck and face, hoping they would cool them down, but his hands were no longer cold. They were warm and thrumming with nervous energy.

Yusuf held his breath for a minute, forcing his heart rate to slow down, and prayed Imam Abdullah wouldn't ask him about the colour of his face.

Yusuf knocked on the door, and when he heard "come in," he gripped the handle and entered the Imam's office.

The office was small. Floor-to-ceiling shelves had been crammed in to make the most of the space, and the Imam clearly did. Books, files, and stationery had been squeezed into every free space like crowded teeth behind braces.