𝐊𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐉𝐀𝐇'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 / 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐁

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟕: 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.

Khadijah awoke to the sun shining on her face. She yawned, fixing her bonnet on her head as she turned over. Arion's arms around her tightened as she moved, holding her closer to his body as he, too, shifted. She snaked his hand beneath his shirt, loving the warmth that radiated from his body—she let out a content sigh as she drifted back off. Arion mumbled something above her, but she just groaned sleepily, tucking her face beneath his chin, pressed up against his collarbone.

She was in such a sleep-induced daze that she didn't register that it was already morning.

The sleep was hitting too good.

She laid on top of Arion's chest, hand trapped beneath his shirt, feeling his chest raise and fall with each breath.

Last night felt like a lucid dream—she couldn't have possibly snuck out of her house and went to an actual party, right? But Arion was here, and that was proof enough.

Wait—Arion... was here... in her room.

Khadijah blearily blinked her eyes open as the thought set in—looking up at Arion's chiselled jaw as he snored lightly, peacefully sleeping in her bed.

She was so confused—so caught off guard, that she didn't register the sound of footsteps approaching her door until it opened tentatively before it slammed open, rattling the whole room. Khadijah pushed herself up, one hand on Arion's chest, as he opened his eyes tiredly—no longer feeling the same euphoric high from last night. She turned her head slowly, her heart palpitating as she took in her mother's form in her doorway, mouth dropping open as she scrambled away from Arion, tumbling in the sheets, and falling off the bed in a heap of blankets onto her floor.

"Khadijah! What on earth is he doing here?!" Her mother screeched—loud enough to wake up the whole block with her yell.

"Oh shit," she heard Arion mumble as he got up off her bed, "Miss Timera, I'm sorry—"

"You sorry?!" Her mother continued to yell, stepping into the room. "You're in bed with my daughter, Arion—in my house, uninvited!" Khadijah winced, hearing the New York accent thicken within her mother's voice—knowing things were about to get seriously out of hand. She straightened her tank top and pyjamas shorts, standing up from the floor.

"Hooyo, I can explain everything—please just—" Khadijah tried to say, but her mother was having none of it.

"Zahid! Kaalay oo arka cidda gabadhaada guriga soo gelisay (come and see who your daughter has brought into the house)! Khadijah, you have disappointed me greatly and you—defiling my daughter like this—have you no shame?" Her mother yelled and in an instant, her father had appeared as well. Khadijah wanted to groan, but she bit her tongue in the presence of her parents, who ripped into them with ease. She felt embarrassed and incredibly awkward as she stood off to the side with Arion gathering his things around the room—collecting his hoodie that held his gun between the folds.