Heaven From Here

five

Let me love the lonely out of you

Let me love the pain you're going through

Let Me Love The Lonely, James Arthur

Saif tensed a fraction as he watched the colour pink coat Hanna's cheeks. He watched in silence as she mulled over his words. Saif could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Did she want to marry him? He wasn't exactly sure what he wanted her answer to be.

And for the first time in a long time, he directed his gaze towards a woman and really looked at her. He studied the intricate folds of her pink hijab that she had tied as a turban with the ends cascading down her right shoulder to mimic hair. Her skin, was so fair that he thought she could pass off as a porcelain doll. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing much makeup as he could see the light blue veins running down her neck and seeking refuge under the oversized black turtle neck jumper she had on. That was as far as he could peruse her with the table blocking the rest.

From what he could see, he deduced that she cared about fashion and being modest at the same time. The tinkling of the bracelets on her left hand and the rings she had on her fingers told him that she liked jewellery. Her pink painted lips were thick, and pouty; the kind of lips that were always upturn in a permanent smile. When she turned to look at him, his breath got caught in her green-hazel eyes. The colour of her eyes seem to shift along with her moods. Now they were a clear green with flecks of hazel, just like a cat. And she had lined them so, with a feline flick that he couldn't help compare them to his favourite animal.

His heart had started thumping harder with every second that he looked at her, perused her, studied her. And for the life of him, he could not understand what Awad Sahab was thinking of arranging their marriage. What was the old man thinking; gifting this piece of treasure, a slice of heaven, to him? A piece of garbage that Awad Sahab found broken by the road and endeavoured to fix. Saif swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away.

The worst part of the whole thing was Awad Sahab knew that Saif would never say 'no' to him. Especially given how he had taken Saif under his wing; giving him not only Islamic guidance but fatherly advice. Saif was indebted to the man and knowing that he was unable to say 'no' – the only way out of this was to make Hanna truly see him. The uncensored version of Saif himself.

Obviously, telling her that wasn't a good guy wasn't working. What else could he do? He wasn't going to touch her against her will, he would never stoop that low. Hanna did mention that she wanted to go clubbing. Maybe he could take her out and then she could see for herself that he wasn't right for her. Wanting to do bad things, and already having done all that and more are two different things. He wasn't right for her; that thought settled heavily at the bottom of stomach and Saif had to swallow again.

The silence was tense between them, but Saif did nothing to ease to it. He sat in his rigid posture, waiting for Hanna to say something. Anything.

"You know," he heard her voice say slowly and softly, "before arriving here, I was absolutely sure that I didn't want to get married, not just to you, to anyone. But now, I'm not so sure anymore. And maybe it's because of you. It's something in you, that's making me...," he watched her throat bobble, as she swallowed nervously. "...there's something about you..." she pressed the palm of her hands to her face as she let out an embarrassed laugh.

"And the worst part is that I always thought that when the time for marriage would come, my man would be desperate for me to marry him," she bit her lip. "But you don't seem keen about it, let alone happy. I don't expect you to be desperate for me; not for someone you've only met thrice. But at the very least not unhappy," she said her voice cracking as she talked.