Only Her(COMPLETED)EDITED

He finally knows it

AHLAM.

I was on route to my bedroom to take my prescribed medication when I noticed Aahil hot on my hills calling out my name “Why are you following me?” I asked, stopping a couple of metres away from the door “Someone will see us" I warned him but I may as well have saved my breath as he didn’t have the faintest care in the world if he was seen with me; a poor orphan girl.  Why can’t he just leave me alone? I really don’t want him getting acquainted with me.  Seriously! It’s bad enough having to fight the strange abnormal feelings I’m beginning to experience whenever he’s around me.

Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) reported to have said “Blessed is the wealth of a Muslim who gives to the poor and the orphans” Children become orphans by no fault of their own.

He was watching me intently when he questioningly asked me "Have you been crying?"

With my eyes wide, I stared at him for a brief moment then hung my head and shook it in denial.  If the truth be told, I have in fact been crying but I wasn’t about to admit that to him.  Sadly, for the majority of the day, I’ve been struggling silently with an excruciating pain in my left hand and just like clockwork; at that very precise moment, the recurring pain in my hand had me clenching my eyes and biting into my lower lip to stop the agonising pain from making me groan out aloud.

Knitting his brows together and declaring his concern, he held out his hand for mine and said meticulously "Here, let me take a look," but I agonisingly refused and bought my arm painfully down to my side and looked away. Seconds… minutes went by in silence until I finally heard him breathe in and out frustratingly.

"So… let me get this right, you talk to everyone and take care of everyone but insensitively quarantine yourself away from me, am I right?” he said with such sadness.

Feeling myself become rigid and my legs become weak, I clutched onto my silver Allah symbol necklace tightly that could still be seen beneath my emerald green hijab and was so thankful that my religion Islam had me modestly covered.  Wearing a simple black fitted and flare dress from the neck down to the ankles, with tight fitted sleeves down to the wrist. I was so relieved he wasn’t able to see my unsteady legs.

How can I openly share with him how distraught I really feel and how his words are truly disturbing me?  How can I share with him that I’ve been fighting with my feelings ever since I first set eyes on him; How can I?  Without looking at him I said the first lame thing that came to mind "You are a guy," and surprisingly heard his laughter burst out loud; sending a flood of warmth up my neck and into my face.

"Yeah! I am 100 per cent a guy and this guy would really like to get to know you" he said laughingly.

Sensing him approaching, I took a step back.  What is he doing? Why is he looming so close? What we’re doing is haram; Astaghfirullah!

Turning to look at him, I said inconsiderately “I don't want to get acquainted to you or anyone, I just want to be left alone!  Why can’t you understand that?" I exclaimed

Stroking his hand over his stubble as if in deep thought, I stared at the man who normally stood tall with poise and for a flicker of a second, I recognised nervousness, discomfort and uncertainness “one day or another Ahlam, you will have to settle down” he said painstakingly.

Unbelievable! what's wrong with this guy? He’s the head of a multimillion-dollar business company and out of all the girls he could have, he’s bothering me… why?