Muslimah in love

15. Yusuf's Engagement Party Part.1

Yusuf's engagement was edging closer and my excitement was growing. I loved the whole wedding process, the shopping and excitement. Everyone just cheered up and even the stress of it was somehow exhilarating. Now that it was going to be brother's, it was even more exciting because it wasn't me and all I could feel was bliss.

Today was the official engagement party and I was still at home getting ready. I should've gone to my parent's home yesterday but I couldn't get off work. I was going to have to get to the restaurant without going to my parents  in my part attire and the train was definitely out of the option, especially when I was wearing my gorgeous glittery 6-inch platforms. I sat on the dressing-table chair, already in my outfit  and wondered about my make up. It was 6am and my face was a mess. Although I always wore barely-visible make up everyday, for parties, it was a different case.  I had been so tired that I hadn't taken off my make up the night before and the result of it was the panda eyes staring back at me. After, my face was in order, with simple Smokey eyes, a nice pink blush and pink-rose coloured lips, l I struggled to think about what to do with my hair. Hair and make-up took me a while but not as long as many others I know. I enjoyed using different colours and experimenting, making my eyes stand out a little and my lips look attractive, and letting my hair loose for once.  I mean, a lot of people disliked make-up, but I think as long as its simple and not like a cake mix on people's faces, then its fine because bold make-up does not suite everyone.

I was finally going to meet my sister-in-law to be. I knew nothing about her besides her name and university. I had protruded Yusuf to tell me but he refused. He wanted me to get to know her, first hand. I worried when he had told me. Clearly, I wasn't an arranged marriage like mine, so had they dated? God forbid, since it was not allowed in Islam. Where had they met? How had they met? I stopped my thoughts. I'd know all this in a few hours.

'Up,' I said bunching my hair into a bun or down. 'Or down?' I repeated it a couple of times.

'I'd say up. Shows off your heart-shaped face.' I stopped and stared into the reflection of the mirror as Zaid walking into the room. I gulped. He had just come out the shower and only had a towel wrapped around his waist. He was clearly showing off his spectacular, six-pack torso. He looked so handsome and groomed. Why was I acting as if I hadn't seen it before? Because I had, but right now his swift movement and his fit body was making me feel....distracted and I wanted to do it feel the warm hardness under my fingers. No, I don't I said to myself. Its only skin, but his warm skin that makes me breathless.

'Er, Thanks.' I said embarrassed about my madness and thoughts. Nonetheless, I secretly continued to watch him, through the reflection of my dressing table mirror. I justified that there was nothing wrong with it, we belonged to each other...for now. 

'Light grey or charcoal?' He said holding two tuxedos on either hand. Most of his clothes were still in my room. I quickly averted my eyes from his torso to the suits. I cleared my throat and Zaid had a small smirk across his face. He was doing all this deliberately and I felt slightly furious.

'For what, an important meeting?' I asked, pinning in my bobby pins to my neat chignon, with shaky hands and I had left a few curly strands out.

'No. I'm going with you.'

'What.'

'It is my brother-in-laws engagement party and I can't miss it.'

'You've missed-'  all the other invitations, I wanted to say but stopped. There was no point arguing. Judging by the determined look on his face, he was going. He was a stubborn man.

'Light grey,' I said. I was wearing a beautiful baby pink saree and the lighter one wold go more nicely. I wasn't the usual saree type but today I just felt like wearing it. I had never worn it and it had been a gift from my friend that I didn't want to put to waste. I could imagine, my sister-in-law to be, Hanna, donning something traditional.