under the covers [hs au]

chapter twenty-nine.

It was cold; goosebumps rose on Samira's skin. Her cheeks and nose were a soft crimson. She decided to lay right in the pain until it numbed her.

Her heart was now empty after having been so full for so long. Samira was alone in the room, pacing back and forth. Her hands were cold, and she was biting her nails. Her eyes were glued onto the foggy windows, watching the deluge that followed her from Liverpool to London.

The night before, Baneen Aunty didn't hesitate to let in Samira when she showed up at the doorstep. Not a question needed to be asked because the answer was in Samira's messy, puffy eyes. As soon as she stepped into the bathroom, she took a warm bath, crying to herself silently so the kids wouldn't wake.

The things Samira was blind to came into the light since she fled the scene from Harry. Samira finally realized something had always been broken from the beginning when she stood in front of the mirror, staring at her bare body. Her cookie pouch had disappeared, the color in her cheeks had drained, and her once lively eyes were as dead as she was on the inside.

Samira couldn't tell whom she was even looking at.

The next day, Samira wore a different face, not wanting to burden anyone with her truth. She wore her baggiest clothes, an attempt to relax in a body she didn't know anymore. Samira turned into the worst version of herself, someone she thought she would never have to be again.

Samira was alone in Baneen Aunty's guest room, trying her best to stay preoccupied. Her phone was far away from her as she typed away on her laptop. It was shut off for the weekend because of Harry, Harry, Harry. Every text, every missed call, every notification on her phone had something to do with him. And for once, she didn't reply. She finally had a reason not to.

She leaned her head against the board of the bed, taking a deep breath. Tears fell down her cheeks yet again, and her eyes stung worse than salt in a wound.

There was a knock on the door. "Samira."

Samira sniffled quickly, wiping her eyes.

Baneen Aunty sat next to Samira, holding a cup of tea. Samira took it from her, continuing her work nonchalantly.

"Dai." Baneen Aunty whacked Samira's shoulder; she flinched. "I saw you crying."

"I'm just stressed."

"Over what? You've been here for a whole day, and I still don't know why," Baneen Aunty mentioned.

"It's school."

"Even if you were stressed about school, you would be smiling, eating, playing with the kids," Baneen Aunty heeded. "What happened? Was it your father?"

Samira scoffed: "Wapa would probably fly me back home if he knew."

"Wait . . ." Baneen Aunty shifted to sit in front of her, his expression disheartened. "Is it a boy?"

Samira bit her lips, sighing sharply: "Keep it between us."

"Allahu, Samira," Baneen Aunty complained, running a hand through her reddish-brown hair. "This isn't just a boy, is it?"

"No. He's . . . my boyfriend."

"How long?"

"Almost seven months."

"What happened?"

"I found a ring in his pocket, and I panicked," Samira explained, closing her laptop. "I don't know why he had that ring. And I don't know if I want to marry him."

"I'm calling Noureen. I'm not an expert at this because my marriage was arranged."

"But you and Jaami Uncle turned out fine."