His Runaway Bride

|1|- one

Hayat

I walked into the coffee shop, the smell of freshly ground coffee drifting up my nostrils as the warmth of the room enveloped me. My eyes drifted around the room as I searched for my friends among the few people seated.

"Hayat! Over here!"

I heard someone call and I whipped my head to the right, only to catch sight of my two friends seated around the farthest table at the back. Making my way towards them, I wiped the slight fog that had built up on my eye glasses from the heater I passed by.

"As Salamualaykum," I greeted as I took my seat.

"Wa alaykum salam, Hayat. Early as always, I see." Firdaus replied surly just before taking a sip of her coffee. It was apparently very hot because she spit out immediately, her face turning red as she wiped her mouth, fixing the coffee mug with a hard glare.

"Don't listen to Firdaus," Barakah said cheerily, fixing me an apologetic smile as we ignored said lady who still wore a grumpy frown on her face. "She just got out of an argument with her dad again this morning and didn't sleep a wink all night."

"Why didn't she sleep?" I asked curiously. I had always known Firdaus to value sleep over all other activities. That was exactly what she was engaged in when we first met after all. Sleep was to Firdaus as writing was to me. Essential.

"She was convinced she was failing half of her deen by not engaging in Tahajud and despite my advice for her to rest a little, she stood all night in prayer," Barakah grinned as she explained, patting Firadus' head fondly with one hand and taking a sip of her coffee with another. "Now, she's experiencing the aftermath."

The wedding band on her finger glinted as she brought the mug to her mouth. Barakah had recently gotten married to a mutual friend of ours, Hassan. And the result was obvious, she was glowing like a full moon on a dark night.

"Allah does not encourage discomfort in religion, Firdaus." I reproached softly, taking one of her hands in mine. "Islam is simple. You do not need to desert your sleep. That could cause serious health issues."

Firdaus let out a sigh, casting her striking blue eyes to the mug on the table. "I know. I just- I wanted to sacrifice all that I loved for Allah. I don't really regret it much, except for the throbbing in my head."

Firdaus had just recently converted to Islam. We met in college, during a class of ours when Barakah and I were arguing about something and Firdaus had butted in right from her slumber, disagreeing with the both of us and persuading us to her side very aggressively. We had stuck together ever since after college and Firdaus had learnt so much about Islam that she decided to become a Muslim herself.

It wasn't easy. The long legged blonde bombshell who was one of the hottest ladies while we were college suddenly begun wearing an headscarf and exchanged her short gowns for a long abaya and flowing overalls. But she was as passionate about being a Muslim that nothing could shake her belief.

"About the argument with your father. Same old story?" I asked Firdaus, just as I reached into my backpack to bring out my laptop. I didn't order for coffee because I already had two cups earlier that morning and I didn't want to spend the whole day stuffed full with caffeine. I was slowly trying to overcome a caffeine addiction, however hard that was trying to prove.

Firdaus' mouth curved into a scowl, her pale pink lips striking a contrast with the bright yellow scarf she had wrapped around her head. "He just called to inform me that my last credit card had been blocked till I choose to-" She made an air quote with her fingers, raising her voice to a high pitched, mocking tone so as to mimic her father's voice. "-come back to my senses."