Behind Her Walls

Chapter 8

The next few days flew by, my world revolved around preparing Buraak for the ball. It's been three days since our parents suggested we'd go together, the anxiety hit me last night when my father left.

"Buraak!" I smiled catching up to the tall man after the last bell rang. He looked down at me with a sweet smile, since last Friday we've been acting like friends with the ocassional flirting. But truth be told, I barely know anything about him.

"So the ball is this Saturday," I trailed and he nodded, we both stopped at my locker and he looked at me curiously. "Are you busy today?"

Buraak smiled, "I'll free up day for you," I couldn't help the small blush that played my cheeks. Only he could do this to me, it drove me crazy. Crazy ideas ran through my mind, ideas that I knew I couldn't put into motion, yet.

"Are you staying home alone?" I asked raising a brow, he just came to America he can't possibly be adjusted to life here. "Yea, it's a bit different here," he emphasized 'different' I laughed shaking my head.

"You aren't going to survive this week on your own," I smiled before I opened my locker and placed my books inside. I glanced over at him with a sparkle in my eyes, "stay at my place. I can use some company since I'm always alone," I offered him.

Buraak didn't seem to believe what I had offered, "you want me to stay with you?" I laughed before leading us to his locker that was across the hall, "yes. Besides, I was hoping this week would revolve on us getting to know each better. And I need to get a suit fitted for you, my favorite tailor already has a rack of suits that'll look spectacular on you."

"I have a suit," he focused his attention on unlocking his locker. I let my head rest on the locker beside his, "I'm sure you do, but why not get a new one?" I asked as I watched him struggle with his lock.

"It's just not really-FUCK," he punched his locker making the metal yell back at us in horror. I jumped a little at the noise that erupted in my ear. Buraak groaned in frustration, I held back my laughter and stood up straight.

I stood in between him and the locker and grabbed the small paper with his combination on it, I turned around before I quickly unlocked the locker. I turned around to face him once more, he was dangerously close to me. "See, there's no problem I can't fix," I patted his cheek softly erecting a smile from his lips. I moved back to my original spot beside his locker and I waited for him to finish up.

"I'm not the type of person who enjoys trying things on and spending god-knows-how-much-money on an outfit." He continued to explain his modesty as he locked his locker. I tiled my head as I stared at him in silence.

So he's modest, sweet, protective, hot, and just perfect all around. Why haven't you kissed him, idiot?

I bit my lip as I pushed my inner thoughts to the back of my mind, his eyes made their way to my lips. "Your part of my father's empire, that means you're one of us now. And it'll be fun!" I tried to encourage him but he just frowned, looking more adorable than ever.

"How could it possibly be fun?" Buraak asked the question I was waiting for. I smirked and placed my hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb over his cheekbone. "Because I'll be there, helping Gustevon figure out what looks best on you."

The sweet boy rolled his eyes but a smile replaced his frown. "But if you don't want to..." I trailed off sighing and moving away from him. Buraak's songs of laughter escaped his perfect lips, "fine, I'll meet you at your house in an hour. I just need to go home and pack some clothes."

***

Buraak eyes the two racks that were filled with clothes. The different colors, materials, and fits reflected in his regretful eyes. He looked like he wanted to run away, I held his hand with a squeeze.

"This'll be fast I promise," I gave him an assuring smile as he looked at the nightmare in front of him and back into my eyes. "All you have to do is pick your favorite three, then you'll try them on and we'll pick your favorite one. From there it's touch-ups and that's it!" My encouragement had no visible effect.

He gave my hand a squeeze before he faced his nightmare.

***

I couldn't take my eyes off Buraak as he buttoned up the black dress shirt, this was the last outfit he needed to try on and it was by far the sexiest. Gustevon watched impatiently before he took out his phone and began to distract himself with it.

I walked over to Buraak and helped him, his abs starting to hide away behind the black fabric. Buraak watched me as I did so, a small appreciative smile on his lips. As soon as I was done I fixed his collar, I was going to tuck in his shirt but I didn't want him to react weirdly.

As soon as he was done and wearing the other pieces, he looked over at me, waiting for an opinion. "This is definitely it," I breathly let out as I stared at his body in amazement. He wore dark colors so perfectly, so handsomely.

Gustevon eyes Buraak, his head tilting, "would it be crazy if we swapped the dress shirt for a turtleneck? It'll be more modern, elegant." He suggested and I looked at Buraak waiting for his reply. He seemed to like the idea, so he agreed to it.

I almost had a heart attack from the sight of the man that stood before me. He. Looked. Gorgeous.

"Holly shit," I muttered under my breath. Buraak heard me and sent a sexy wink, I felt al my organs cry in desire. I wanted him now more than ever. "If you don't wear this..." I trailed off standing up to stand in front of him. I straightened out the suit jacket as Iooked into the man's mysterious eyes.

"You look so fucking hot," I didn't mean for the words to leave my lips, but by the time I realized what I was saying, it was too late. My eyes widen and I felt a small blush warm my cheek, I instantly looked down.

Why was I acting like this? Why did he make me feel like this?

He chuckled before lifting my chin up, "I'll wear it, only because you chose it." He paused before a smirk played his sweet lips, "and because I look so fucking hot!" Buraak mimicked me while waving his head to make his waves flip from one side to the other.

I playfully glared at him before smacking his chest, "why are you so mean to me?" I whined and he just smirked. "Because you love it, prenses," (princess) he said in a low, sexy tone. I rolled my eyes, again.

"Fine, fine," I raised my hand up, "if that's how you're going to act. So be it, just know that" I put my hands down and moved closer to him so I can whisper in his ear. "The gentleman is disappearing, I'm breaking you, Habibi," (baby) I added the know Arabic for a dramatic effect before I went back to the chair I was sitting on.

Buraak stood there paralyzed for a few moments, I sent him a mimicking wink. He silently laughed to himself before he started to change. We've been doing this for the past two hours and I'm still not sick of his body.

The way his back muscles flexed when he slipped off the turtleneck, the way his eyes kept wandering over to me when he slipped the slim slacks off. As if waiting for the same reaction, every time I would bite my lip and distract myself with my phone.

How can one person, that I barely know, have this much of an effect on me? Me, Ameera Abdi. He deserves an award.