fated hearts

chapter 5

A week had passed, and Asiya and Ibrahim maintained their relationship with utmost discretion, a secret known only to Ahmad, Ibrahim's most trusted friend. Asiya walked into school that morning, her presence commanding the quiet grace she exuded effortlessly. From the upper floor, Ibrahim stood by the railing, his gaze following her like a man entranced. A soft smile played on his lips, his admiration evident as he took in her serene beauty.

There was something about Asiya-a tranquility that drew him in every time. She was unlike anyone he had ever known. When her eyes lifted and caught his, a blush bloomed across her cheeks, spreading warmth that reached him even from a distance. His heart swelled at the sight, a joy he couldn't contain.

Asiya had never felt like this before. Her brief fling with Fahad had been fleeting and shallow, nothing compared to the depth of what she felt now. Ibrahim made her heart race in ways she didn't think possible.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, Ibrahim greeted her with his signature charm, his voice rich and warm, "Tabarakallahu ahsanal khaleeqeen, you look amazing. Uniform never looked this good on anyone." (Blessed is Allah, the best of creators.)

Asiya ducked her head, her blush deepening. "Tease," she murmured, her lips curving into a shy smile.

"I'm serious," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Wallahi, uniform na miki kyau." (I swear, this uniform suits you.) Then, with a nostalgic grin, he added, "Do you remember our first encounter here? Your first day, when you almost fell down the stairs?"

Asiya laughed lightly, a sound he would never tire of hearing. "How can I forget?" she replied as she climbed the last step. "You saved me."

Ibrahim's smile softened, his gaze turning tender. "That was when I fell for you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Then I found out you were 'The Asiya,' and I knew I had to step back. But no matter how hard I tried, my feelings were too strong. I thought I was hiding them well until Ahmad told me I was failing miserably." He let out a small, self-deprecating laugh, but it faltered when he spotted Fahad approaching with his new girlfriend-a younger student they both recognized.

Asiya, composed as always, didn't spare them a glance and continued walking to class. Ibrahim followed her, his jaw tightening but his focus never wavering from Asiya.

---

At school, they kept their conversations light and casual in public, their interactions blending seamlessly into their surroundings. But in the sanctuary of the library, away from prying eyes, they could truly be themselves. It was their haven, a place where stolen glances turned into shared moments, their connection deepening with every quiet conversation.

That day, Asiya sat alone, her head bowed over her notes, completely absorbed. She didn't hear Ibrahim approach until the familiar scent of his perfume enveloped her. "Hi, baby," he said, his voice soft but unmistakably joyful.

She looked up, her face lighting up at the sight of him. "Aşkım, how are you?" she greeted, leaning slightly closer, her eyes warm with affection. (My love.)

"I'm fine now that I'm with you," he replied, placing a bottle of juice in front of her with a smile.

"I see you're skipping break today," he teased, his gaze playful. "I looked everywhere for you. Why are you hiding in here?"

Asiya smiled, tugging at his hand lightly, sending an electric jolt up his arm. "No food allowed," she reminded him, her voice teasing.

Ibrahim chuckled, sitting down beside her. "Right. Then this juice will have to do. But seriously, you need a break."

"I have to finish this," she explained, showing him her notes. "It's for my continuous assessment."

"Let me help," he offered, and together they tackled her work, their quiet chatter blending with the rustle of pages and the faint hum of the library.

---

Three months had passed since Asiya had joined British International School. Her bond with Kay and Ruks had solidified, and she had grown fond of Ahmad's unwavering kindness. Fahad, however, remained a storm cloud on the horizon, his bitterness undiminished despite having dated two girls since their breakup.

One memory stood out vividly to Ibrahim: the one time they met outside of school. Asiya had walked into the café, dressed in modest Muslim attire-a light blue hijab framing her delicate features and a flowing white dress that swayed with her every step. She looked ethereal, like something out of a dream. Ibrahim had been utterly captivated.

"Hi," he had greeted, his voice betraying his awe.

"Hi," Asiya replied, her smile shy but radiant. "Is there something on my face?" she asked, self-consciously touching her cheek.

"You look perfect," Ibrahim had said, his tone reverent, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've never seen anyone look as beautiful as you."

Asiya's blush had deepened, her voice barely audible. "Thank you. You're too kind."

They had talked about everything and nothing, laughter and dreams weaving seamlessly between them. It was a moment Ibrahim cherished-a rare glimpse of their connection unburdened by the walls they had to maintain at school.

---

The storm finally broke when Ahmad decided to intervene, inviting Ibrahim and Fahad to meet after school. "You need to sort this out," he said firmly, his voice brokering no argument. "This tension is tearing everyone apart."

Ibrahim, ever the peacemaker, was the first to extend an olive branch. "I'm sorry, Fahad," he said sincerely, his voice steady despite the weight of the words.

But Fahad's response was anything but forgiving. "You're sorry?" he spat, his anger barely contained. "You broke us up, and now you're sorry?" His voice rose, drawing the attention of lingering students.

Before Ibrahim could respond, Fahad swung his fist, the punch landing squarely on Ibrahim's nose. Pain shot through him as blood trickled down his face. The hall fell into a stunned silence.

Ibrahim staggered back, his hand covering his nose as he looked at Fahad, his eyes a mix of shock and sorrow. "I never meant for any of this to happen," he said, his voice muffled. "I didn't break you two up. Da bakinka kace basonta kake ba saboda tanada kyau ne kuma taji kana fadan ka shareta da gangan." (You said with your own mouth that you didn't love her, that she was only beautiful, and she overheard you saying you intentionally ghosted her.) "What happened between you two has nothing to do with me."

Fahad's face twisted with rage and disbelief. "You think you know everything? You think you can just say sorry, and it'll fix everything?"

Ahmad stepped between them, his anger flashing. "Enough, Fahad!" he snapped. "You're not thinking straight. Ibrahim has been your friend for years, and now you're throwing it all away for what? Jealousy? Bitterness?"

Fahad's new girlfriend tugged at his arm, her voice tentative. "Fahad, let's go. This isn't worth it."

Reluctantly, Fahad let himself be led away, though his anger lingered in the air. Ahmad turned to Ibrahim, concern etched on his face. "Let's get you to the nurse's office."

---

That evening, Asiya called Ibrahim, her voice filled with worry. "Aşkım, what happened? I heard about the fight after I left."

Ibrahim sighed, the exhaustion evident in his tone. "Fahad punched me. He thinks I broke you two up. It's a mess, Asiya."

Tears pricked her eyes. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"No," Ibrahim said firmly. "This isn't your fault. Fahad needs to work through his issues. I don't regret being with you, Asiya. You make me happy."

Asiya's heart swelled at his words. "You make me happy too, Aşkım. We'll get through this together, In Sha Allah."