AAHIL
My gaze flicks from the bed to the sofa. The bed is empty and the sofa is occupied with a five-foot-something girl is sprawled upon it.
Her face is dazzling and I don’t think I can ever get past the fact that she looks like this. It’s like every time she takes off her niqab, I see her for the first time.
She pretends to read a book, eyes skimming over the lines and brows furrowed in a way that lets me know she’s well aware of my gaze on her.
Maybe I don’t care or maybe I’ve become too shameless to not stare because I can’t help but be awed by the long locks of her chocolate brown hair, spread over the headrest and flowing down, threatening to touch the wooden floor.
Wordlessly, I head over to the cupboard and look for a fresh set of pyjamas. Finding just the right one, I toss
