His Niqabi Girl (Book 2)

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                                 HIS NIQABI GIRL

         
           "Every time i caught myself thinking.... it
was always about you."

Elham

"Wake up you spoilt brat. Is this how you'll behave when you get married. You're a grown woman now, I shouldn't still be waking you up and making you breakfast. If anything, it should be the other way round" Ummi said, smacking the back of my head.
I groaned, peeling my eyes open.
"Good morning to you too Ummi. I'm starting to think you don't want me living under this roof anymore" I said to my mother, as I pulled the duvet closer to me.
She walked around the room, flying the curtains open as she kept on rambling about how lazy this generation's ladies are.

"You better start thinking about moving out" she said with a stern face.
"Okay great, I've been meaning to do that" I replied jokingly, I had actually been wanting to move out and leave by myself for sometime. However, my Asian parents would skin me alive before letting that happen.

"I meant to your husband's house!" She said and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Not again! Ummi you've been saying this a bit too often lately don't you think?" I said, sitting up.

"Yes, that's because you're growing old" she retorted, pointing at me.
"Ummi! I'm literally turning twenty four in a few months. I'm barely an adult!" I laughed.

Ummi and I were always arguing, playfully of course. And I began to notice that she brought up the marriage topic a bit too much recently. It must be something that was starting to cross her mind a lot.
As much as I'd have loved to given her what she wanted, I wasn't ready to get married, there wasn't even a single guy that I admired enough to that with at that point.

"Well your mates are making babies and all you do is sleep and eat. Just take a look at yourself in the mirror, you keep putting on weight. Very soon, we'd have been to expand the door entrances in the house just so you can pass through them easily" she yelled, pointing her spatula at me.

"Ouch!" I muttered, standing up and pouting.
"Why're you being so mean Ummi?!" I faked a cry.

I walked up to her and hugged her playfully from behind.
"I know you'd still love me in my obesity!" I said to her.

"But no man will!" She replied.

"Ummi!" I whined.

"Fine, if you don't want to get married yet, at least get a job. You can't keep lazing around"

"I'm not lazing around. I make art, I sell my paintings. I make cool money without even stressing. Why are you so jealous? Besides, I told you I've applied to a couple of organizations I'd like to work at. If I get a job at any of them, of course I'll go to work. Who doesn't want multiple sources of income huh?" I said.

"Bull shit. Painting isn't a job. Get a life!" My mom said, strutting out of the room.

"Ummi!" I laughed. She was unnecessarily dramatic and I always found it hilarious.

I had majored in business management and marketing and now almost a year after graduation, I was still reluctant to start practicing that.
I walked to my full length mirror and stood in front of it. Was I actually growing bigger? I didn't think so. I was definitely a size bigger than I was in highschool, now slightly taller too.
Also, for some reason, I went blond in my final year of college and remained blonde since then. Not that anyone really noticed since my hair was covered all the time.
Unlike before, I was not insecure about my looks or body anymore. I grew to love and appreciate myself and be comfortable in my own skin.