The Bad Boy's Girl (COMPLETE)

House Tours & Car Rides

picture of amir's house
disclaimer: not actual size

"So. This is it." Umma smiles, slightly nervous, I can tell. She's fidgeting her hands a bit, and when I look down at my own, I find we have the same habit of doing so.

   Before us stands a wide, modern mansion. It's so big it could fit both our families along with Muna's with ease.

It's not tall at all, but it's width is what gives it it's large size and capacity to hold so much. The walls are basically made up of large, one-way glass windows, meaning they only allow whoever is inside to take a look outside, but the outsiders can't peer inside, and that sort of kills me because despite my hesitation and the circumstances of this trip, I'd like to know what my future home looks like.

   Umma and Baba accompany me on this little trip. Anas is home, sick, and I sigh. My poor baby. I wish I was tucked away beside him, safe, away from any danger of the world. But I have to face this one day or another, so why not today? Getting it off my shoulders is seriously what I need right now. "Let's go." Baba prompts us two, and we both nod quickly, dropping our hands and following him towards the couple of stairs that lead to the front porch, which is wide and cozy, having a swing and a little table with magazines on it.

  I press the doorbell, and we wait. Not too later, I hear footsteps, and suck in a breath. You can do this,  I remind myself. A very happy looking Uncle opens the door, and greets us. "Salam O Alaikum. Please, come in."

We greet him back, and he compliments me as I slip off my shoes. I smile, a warm blush spreading through my cheeks, and follow his lead. There is a mini chandelier and a closet, as well as a washroom down the hall. As we walk deeper, we see colorful paintings and modern art pieces only the rich can afford.

"Here we are," He finally says, as we walk into the entryway of the living room. It's ginormous, and very cozy looking. There are sofas and armchairs in the right places, a fireplace that isn't being used, a wooden coffee table, and a flat screen TV that is probably about ten times bigger than our own. The colour scheme is black and grey, which sounds ugly, but you had to be there to see how good it all matched up.

   "Asalam O Alaikum," Auntie greets us, with her light coloured lipstick in coordination with her kurti and straight pants with buttons down the sides. I can already tell everything she's wearing is designer. No doubt about that.

   Now, if I were a gold digger, I would be enjoying this moment very much. I would be getting married to the CEO of a huge company, and meeting his rich parents. I would be in heaven.

   And even if I wasn't a gold digger, and just a normal girl, I would be internally screaming at the luxury and the perfect family picture above the fireplace, of Amir smirking at the camera in a crisp shirt and jeans, with his two parents. A perfect, rich, blue eyed family of three. Who cares if he's a douchebag or a bipolar asshole? At least I'd be getting loads of money in my pocket.

   But here's the problem; I'm not an ordinary girl.

  •••

   Now that we've eaten, and finished our cups of warm tea, we sit back, talking. Or at least, the parents talk and leave Amir to stare at me with weird eyes. He's taking me in, checking me out. Clearly, he doesn't like the way I modestly was raised to dress, and is probably mentally cursing as he plays with the ring on his finger. It's a simple, silver band, but you can tell from the way it shines under the light and glistens as he moves his hand that it's very expensive.