Heaven From Here

sixteen

Fingertips puttin' on a show, Got me now and I can't say no

Slow Hands, Niall Horan

Hanna snuggled deeper into her pillow, in between being asleep and complete awake, as her eyes fluttered open. She sat up with a jolt as she took in her surrounding, her hands flying to her hair. Her hijab was off and her hair was loose. She knew she fell asleep in the living room, her eyebrows knitted as she looked around and her gaze landed on her luggage bags. Saif. He must have carried her up, along with her things. The sadness that she had felt last night was now anger bubbling in her veins.

Checking her phone, she saw that it was already 9.00am and leaned back against the pillows. She took in the cream coloured room, although it was a neutral colour but everything about it screamed luxury. She glided her hands across the sheets and wondered what the thread count was. It was definitely a guest room, she mused. She got out of bed and her feet sank into a think plush carpet. After being in heels all weekend, the carpet felt wonderful against her bare feet.

Hanna stood up and wondered around the room, she touched and caressed each object in hopes of finding out more about the owner the house. But she knew it was of no use, as it was so neutral that it could easily be mistaken for a hotel room. Standing in front of the mirror Hanna rubbed her eyes before she studied herself. She was as rumpled as they came; her kurta was creased, and she had sleep marks on her cheeks. She sighed as she quickly tied her messy red hair up in a ponytail. She stood at the doorway as she tried to detect any sounds of movements in the house, but it was silent. Relieved that the coast was clear and she was all alone, Hanna picked up her toiletries case and went on to find a bathroom to wash up before she went looking for breakfast.

She opened the first door she saw and froze on the spot, her eyes as big as saucers as it fixated on the wide expanse of Saif's naked back. She swallowed when he whipped around to look at her as her eyes landed on his chest and flitted lower. Nothing else registered in her mind other than the fact that Saif was standing in front of her in only black boxer briefs. She could feel herself flush from her toes to the tips of her hair, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"Holy fuck, you're fit," Hanna blurted. She slapped her hand against her mouth as she realized what she said aloud as she looked at Saif with wide eyes, shock at her blurted statement. Saif quirked an eyebrow at her as she stood frozen while he coolly put on his jeans and a simple grey jumper.

She watched as his muscles moved and rippled with every movement until he was fully clothed, then she wanted to stomp her feet in annoyance. Feeling like a three year old whose favourite candy had been taken away forcefully as the expanse of fair skin was removed from her sight. She'd wanted to admire him just a tad bit longer, to see that broad and strong back with the rippling muscles, the chest that tapered to a slim waist, the dusting of dark hair that lead from his navel into the band of his boxer briefs, the firmness of his arse down to the thickness of his thighs. She faintly registered the presence of the tattoos on his body.

Fully dressed, Saif sauntered towards her as he pulled the sleeves of his jumper to his elbows. There was something niggling in her mind, like there was something important that she was forgetting. But as he stood in front of her smelling of soap and cologne, Hanna lost all ability to think coherently.

"Breathe, Hanna...," Saif said softly as his eyes registered the telltale flush on Hanna's cheeks. He smirked as he watched her nod stiffly at him unable to contain his smile.

Hanna could see the glint of amusement flash in his eyes as she continued to look at him dumbly. His eyes rove all over her face as though he was searching for something. She wasn't sure what he found as she watched his throat bobbled as he swallowed.