Asiya stepped back, nearly squealed and hid behind her sister when the door opened.
She hadn't expected Yusuf to open the door or mentally prepared herself for him to see her like this.
Overdressed with close to a new face drawn on hers like she was a doll a child had taken a crayon to.
"Oh," Yusuf exhaled deeply before his face pinched with embarrassment and turned red. "I meant er-erm-you look, yeah–"
As Yusuf struggled to finish his sentence, Asiya cringed and curled her hands together.
"Are you going to compliment her eventually, Yusuf?" Aminah sniffed, clearly unimpressed.
Yusuf's face got brighter, displaying a colour Asiya's face felt like.
"Aminah," Asiya hissed as she elbowed her sister in her side.
Yusuf didn't say anything, but he remained in the doorway, his face the colour of a traffic light, with his eyes lowered.
"We're here to pick up your mum and some stuff for the mendhi," Asiya explained as she played with her fingers.
"Ah yeah." Yusuf cleared his throat. "She's running late."
"It's okay. So are we," Aminah said.
"Do you...do you guys want to wait inside?" Yusuf asked hesitantly. "Mum should be done soon."
Asiya looked at her older sister as though asking for permission.
"Lead the way," Aminah said with a slight nod.
Asiya lifted her abaya as she stepped over the threshold, revealing the flared-out bottoms of her Gharara.
Gold glitter and sequins had been sewn onto it in swirly patterns, and the material swished around her ankles like waves lapping on a beach.
Asiya's heart thumped as she sat on the only black leather sofa that wasn't cluttered with decorations, gift bags, and pieces of fabric. She clutched the front of her abaya in her hand.
When Olivia held a mirror in front of Asiya's face and asked her what she thought, Asiya had replied that she felt pretty.
But now, the little gemstones Olivia had delicately pressed around Asiya's eyes felt like boulders pushing into her skin. Her dark green hijab felt too tight, and the gold broach it was pinned with was too heavy.
Asiya kept rubbing her lips together to reduce the gloss, which was too shiny and felt like a beacon in Yusuf's living room, which consisted mostly of dark colours and beige.
Only the bottom of her bright outfit peeked out from under her black abaya, but Asiya still felt like a stain on a white carpet.
She crossed her ankles together, hoping Yusuf wouldn't notice how odd she looked cosplaying his culture.
She felt like an imposter. She had woven in and out of boutiques with Hannah and Olivia and paraded up and down Green Street until deciding on an outfit.
She had spent hours scrolling online for inspo for her mendhi look, pouring her eyes over beautiful girls who looked nothing like her and had not just suited their mendhi looks but dazzled in them.
Asiya pressed her ankles tighter against each other, not even registering the tiny specs of pain that came from from the silver studs and embroidery stabbing into her skin.
She had overdone it.
She felt like she was trying too hard to fit in, and Yusuf hadn't finished what Aminah had assumed would be a compliment.

YOU ARE READING
Accepting You
RomanceAsiya was cruising through life, totally okay with carrying more weight than she could. Or at least, that's what she wanted everyone to think. Yusuf was cool and supposedly composed, committed to working hard. Or at least, that was the plan until...