#41 in Spiritual 2/3/17.
Religion. It's a big part of you. Some would say that religion is basically who you are.
All her life Amira has been told who she is. What she is.
A Muslim girl.
But the more she learns about her religion the more she r...
#119 in Spiritual WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT. I wrote and rewrote this chapter a million times because I DONT KNOW MAN, its hard. This is the end result. Hope you like it. Don't forget to COMMENT and VOTE. Also the song is so THEM AND SO FITTING AND i LOVE IT SO MUCH AAAAH.
Chapter Aesthetics:
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'm here. I'm standing in front of his door.
Our door.
It was scary to think that he was right there- what if he wasn't even home? He probably wasn't.
I take my keys out but then I put them back. What if he is home and he's walking around naked? He doesn't do that but what if? So I reach out and press the bell. The door opens in mere seconds and there he stands.
The first thing I notice are his eye bags. He looks like he hasn't slept in ages, his t-shirt is wrinkled and his hair is a mess- but that's normal for him, I'd be worried if his hair wasn't messy. My eyes linger on his lips for a second longer than normal because I don't want my eyes to meet his eyes just yet.
"Amira?" His voice is soft but strangled.
"Hey," I say awkwardly, meeting his gaze and taking a deep breath. His eyes always got me. And now that I had admitted my love for him to myself I could let myself think these things. I'm allowed to think about how beautiful his eyes are, how his eyes give everything away, how it was his eyes that I noticed most when we first met, that night before graduation seems decades ago now.
He suddenly grabs me and brings me close, my face hits his chest. I missed his smell so much, his arms wrap themselves around me and I wrap mine around him and we stay like that, his nose in my hair and my eyes squeezed shut. Nothing has ever felt so good.
"Hey," he replies, finally breaking away and blinks twice, "Are you actually here?"
"Yeah," I smile and retract my arms from around him.
"Because I've had this dream way too many times," he whispers. I suddenly feel a pang of guilt. I can't imagine what I would do if he disappeared off the face of earth for two months. I would've gone crazy.
"I'm sorry I should've called you,"
"You should've," he puts his hands in his pockets and leans against the door.
"I'm sorry," I repeat.
"Okay," he's still staring at me, his eyes on mine. What does he think about the hijab? What if he doesn't like it?
"Can I come in?" I ask him when I see that he's in no hurry to get out of my way.
"It's your apartment," he says and gets out of the doorway and I walk in.
