Dawud.

Chapter 8: Cinnamon Toast Crunch

  بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful 

  "I'd like to get to know you. It would be an honor for you to could consider me for marriage." He said tenderly...

Jannah's P.O.V

I exhaled, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Dawud, this beautiful and polite guy wanted to marry me? My heart rate intensified rapidly, causing me to breathe even harder. This was a dream come true.

I nodded. The words I wanted to say wouldn't come out. What could I say? What did normal girls say? "Okay." I blurted. My voice came out high-pitched. The second the word escaped my lips I shut my eyes and shrunk into the couch.

Dawud chuckled. "Let's ask each other some questions." He suggested.

"Okay. Would you consider yourself to be more withdrawn or outgoing?" I asked.

"I'd say I'm more withdrawn and quiet." He stated. "What about yourself?" He asked me.

"I'm more of an outgoing person but that depends on who I'm speaking to." I admitted.

"Do you have a job?"

"Yeah, I'm a henna artist. I run a little business."

He nodded. "How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen. You?"

"Twenty."

"Do you like to travel?" I asked him now.

"Yes! I love trying new things and going to new places. I love history too. Anywhere that has history is on my list for sure." He said excitedly. I looked at him surprised. I've never seen this side of him before. I've found something he's passionate about! "Uhm, that's not what you asked. Sorry." He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

"No, no! Don't be. I like learning about new things." I told him. We both smiled at each other.

Over all, Dawud has been to Saudi Arabia, the U.A.E, Turkey, and Egypt. He has family spread over that part of the world. He plans on taking over his father's bookstore company and branching out around the country. He doesn't believe in beating children and he'd like to have kids but a few years after marriage. He holds a Quran recitation class every Sunday at the main Mosque for kids who are 4-7 years old. He is also a very active member of his university's MSA (Muslim Student Association).

"Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?" He questioned.

"Okay, I might regret this for the rest of my life but I have to know." I replied.

"What is it?" Dawud leaned forward, intrigued. I noticed how he enjoyed my little outbursts and crazy moments.

"A few years back, my two really good friends and I made a pact that we wouldn't marry anyone that liked the same cereal as we did. It's crazy, I know, but... What's your favourite cereal?" I asked him all in one breath.

Dawud shook his head, laughing. He laughed until tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "Honey Bunches of Oats." He told me.

I sighed in relief. "Not Cinnamon Toast Crunch, right?"

"No, not Cinnamon Toast Crunch." He smirked.

My father strolled in, taking a seat next to Dawud. He put his arm over Dawud's shoulder and let out a little laugh. "Jannah, what do you think about this charming young man?" He asked me. The two of them watched me anxiously.

"I really like him." I answered shyly.

"Alhamdullilah. Now, could I talk to him alone?" My father asked me. I raised an eyebrow at him and he gave me the 'look'. Oh, in that case, I am out of here. He was going to give Dawud that scary 'Man-to-Man' talk.

I stood up and walked off, hoping my father would call me back in before Dawud left. I already missed him to bits.

Dawud's P.O.V

The second Jannah turned around the corner, her father sat in her place. His playful demeanor disappeared. It was replaced by a frown.

"Dawud, your father and I have been very good friends. I've seen you grow up to be a very handsome and intelligent young man. However, as Jannah's father, I'd like to tell you something.

I nodded. He was scary.

"Now, about my daughter." He started. I gulped. "Jannah is very special to me. After twelve years of living apart, I moved back here three years ago, which you're aware of. But what you don't know is that I've just got my daughter's love back and I now have to give her away. That's very difficult for me as a father. Especially since I'm giving her away to a young man, capable of anything." He continued. "However, I know you've been raised in the right home. I'm hoping that you can help my daughter in regards to building a family because she's been part of a broken one her whole life, struggling to find happiness. She'll never tell you herself but the only happiness she finds in this world is from Allah. Her relationship with him is above everything, as it should be. Please, take care of her Dawud. I approve of you. I wouldn't want Jannah to be with anyone else."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Jannah had people who care about her so much. They worried about her too. I was happy they approved of me. "Alhamdullilah. Does Jannah have a mother that I can get in touch with?" I asked him.

Sultan scoffed. "She does, but.." He shook his head. "She does, but we'll tackle that issue another day, Insha'Allah."

I couldn't ignore the concern that rushed over me caused by the way his posture changed when I mentioned Jannah's mother. He grew uncomfortable and that scared me. A'outhu Billah. Was Jannah's mother that bad? I would have to ask Abdallah about her.

Sultan stood up and shook hands with me one last time. His grip wasn't as strong as before. This time, it was soft and reassuring. He led me to the staircase and called Jannah down to say goodbye. She raced down the first flight of stairs and slowed down once I could see her. Her eyes were gleaming with excitement as she got closer and closer to the two of us. "Dawud, do you want to meet next weekend under my father's supervision again?" She suggested.

She wore a red hijab. It was bright and looked beautiful against her complexion. She didn't wear any makeup and I could tell from the way she carried herself that she was confident with her natural face. She didn't need makeup anyways. She was breathtakingly gorgeous to me. Her innocent gaze was nearly hidden under her eyelashes and her lips were pulling into a smile. Her father cleared his throat, pulling my head down from space.

"Of course! Should I bring a box of your favorite cereal?" I teased her. I adored the way she cringed in embarrassment. It was so cute.

"Whatever, okay? Cinnamon Toast Crunch beats Honey Bunches of Oats any day." She replied, crossing her arms and biting back a smile.

"Oh yeah? I'll see you next Saturday then at my house, Insha'Allah. I'll get the bowls, milk, and cereal too. All you have to do is show up with your Dad." I told her. She bit her lip, causing me to feel weak in the knees. I really liked her.

"Assalamu'Alaykum, Dawud." She said shyly.

"Wa Alaykum Salam, Jannah." I responded gently. When I did this, her cheeks would always grow red.

"Alright, alright you two. Let me walk you to your car, Dawud." Sultan said, pulling me towards the door. I slipped on my coat and laced up my boots. I was about to walk out of the house but something told me to look back.

Jannah was leaning against one of the house's large pillars elegantly, watching me with a thoughtful smile. Sultan turned around to see what I was looking at and clicked his tongue in annoyance. He grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out the door.

Chapter Nine ->