Strings Attached

~Chapter 16~

Before you begin: I'd like to warn you that this chapter isn't complete. More significant additions shall be made to it, Inn sha Allaah SWT. 

"You update a month later, and the chapter still isn't complete, Amenah?" you ask me, eyes wide. 

"Yeah. What can I say? I'm a lousy writer like that," I answer, lowering my own in defeat.  :'( 

However, I decided to have some sharam (or shame, say what you will) and post whatever I'd written so that those waiting since ages wouldn't need to, anymore. Please don't be so nice to me, you guys. It pains me as it is. :(

Anyway, when I'll finally be done with this chapter completely, I'll post the rest of it to this part only, so do refresh it and read from where you left off. Although, I will post an announcement to make it clear when I update it, so no worries there. You won't skip it, Inn Sha Allaah!

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Manchester, England.

(Daniyal Hasan)

I'm a bit at ease, ever since I've got myself a job. So far, I'm in a fix as to what kind of songs I'm supposed to sing there. I don't know many songs that have no vulgarities. And besides those, I only know depressive ones. So I'm in more than a bit of a fix.

I'm in half a mood to think up some lyrics and compose a song myself. I haven't done so before, but I've tried them with Seth and he never knew the difference, so I might just put pen to paper and try it this one time.

I'm thinking of acting upon it, I've got this hazy image of a girl in my mind. Her eyes large and scared, but heck, they're so damn enchanting I can't help thinking about them. She's breathless but not with anticipation. Rather, it's fear, hesitance and alarm I surmise in them. And if I would so much as come close, she'd shoot like an arrow and get far away from me.

I sit back on my bed, linking my hands behind my head, and try imagining her more clearly with my eyes closed. With some effort, I can feel the slight curve of her waist, and the way it had fitted right into my palms. And I slowly remember that one second. One second of her closeness and the familiar scent of a moisturizer.

I start remembering more and more. I was drunk then, but if it could be possible, I might have gotten even more drunken on the texture of her cheeks... they were that supple. Things are coming back to me now. Every bit of feeling and every single emotion but somehow, I feel as if I'm sullying her just by thinking of her this way.

She's like forbidden fruit, but f**k, she's enslaved my mind!

What has even got into me!? And I shake my head vigorously to clear my thoughts.

However, there's this thing that nags me madly. That faint smell of a moisturizer. I've smelt that before. On a girl. Different than the rest. She had no obnoxiously sweet perfume on her. Just that faint smell that could have gone undetected if I hadn't leaned closer.

Wait. Was that her? Was that Hidayah?! The girl I almost kissed that night?

God! If it was her, I don't know what to feel. I don't have time to waste on a nuisance like her. She's like that rut in the wheel who thinks too highly of herself. Putting far too much worth on a body that doesn't even show.