Ya Amar (My Moon)

Twenty

Water moved smoothly down my skin. It was cool and so calming that even though the soap on my body had been washed away, I stood under the water enjoying its coolness. Satisfied, I switched off the shower and stepped out of the shower cubicle grabbing a white flimsy towel from the towel rail. As I walked to the mirror above the white washbasin, I pulled off the shower cap on my head. Through the mirror, I watched as water trickled down my soft skin connecting together. I stared at myself admiring how clean my skin was before walking out of the bathroom.

The sun had risen long ago. Darkness had given in to light. Rays of light gushed through the soft clouds streaming into the room through the opened window. I looked around the clean room. I had woken up to an empty bed this morning. Amir was nowhere to be found again. I had gathered my hopes up thinking what had happened will make him stay at home but I was wrong. I had cleaned the room, changed the bed sheets and soft blanket to another blanket then went down to pluck fresh flowers. The fresh azaleas scented across the room.

Humming, I walked into the closet closing the sliding glass door behind me. I looked at my wardrobe searching for something to wear. I wanted to wear something different, something different from my usual skirt and blouse or dress. My eyes fell on a blood red salwar kameez in collection of Pakistani wears I had. I smiled grabbing it. The salwar kameez had gold works on its border making it kind of heavy. I pulled it out of the wardrobe and loosened my towel to dress up.

The blood red and gold bangles clinked as they slide down my hand to my wrist. I felt so different in a salwar kameez. I had worn it once and that was on my henna night. The bangles made sounds that were so melodic to my ears. As I moved to pick up a pair of gold dropping earring, the bangles on my wrist sang to my movement. I wore the earrings gently gazing at my reflection in the mirror. I looked different and felt different. I had pulled my hair to the back creating a parting in between it. I had adorned my neck with a simple necklace that had a pendant like the earrings. When I moved my feet under me, the anklets I wore tinkled.

I decided to makeup. Later, I had drawn my eyeliner, painted my eyelids gold and red, used kohl which made my eyes prettier and used blush pink lipstick on my lips. Pressing my lips together, I capped the lipstick putting it back in its right place before spraying a perfume Amir had gifted me.

After what happened the day before, I was demoralised last night but this morning when I woke up after Fajr, there was something lively in me, something that made me alive and happy. I felt as if nothing had happened the day before. I picked a gold scarf. As I began to wrap the scarf around my head, the room door opened. Amir entered dressed in slacks and T-shirt holding a tray in his hand. The tray had serving dishes in it with their lids over them.

I stood up removing the scarf from my head and walked to the bed where he had placed the tray on. My bangles clanked together as I moved.

"What is that?" I asked pointing towards the tray on the bed. Amir lips curled up, his dimples making him so cute. I rolled my eyes brushing away the thought.

"Breakfast for my queen" he answered walking closer to me. He wanted to wrap his around me but I had placed my hand on his chest bending back.

"No, no, no" I pointed a finger at him.

"Are you still angry with me?"

"I just got angrier Mr Hussein" I replied.

"It won't last for long" he said with firm belief. I laughed turning around. "What's with the whole makeup and dressing? You are looking too pretty this morning"

"Are you trying to say I was never pretty?" I gave him a hard look.

"No I am not. You have always been pretty just looking different and breath-taking. I like the bangles" his voice became raspy. Gently, he took my wrist pulling me closer to him, his other hand encircled my waist. "You smell nice" he moved his face towards my neck. I moved my head.

"It is not that easy to get" I pushed his head away. "I am not pleased with you Mr Hussein" Amir rolled his eyes, disappointment on his face. He spouted standing straight.

"What can I do to make you forgive me?" he brushed my cheek. Tingles danced up my spine and his touch made that spot tickle.

"Why don't you find out yourself" I stepped out of his hold gradually then sat on the bed. "Why are you not at work?" I asked opening the serving dishes. The delicious aroma of panla soup sailed my nostrils. I stared at the soup blankly. Where did he get that from? My mouth became watery.

"You do not want me at home?"

"It is a usual thing. You do not stay at home on Saturdays. You spend your weekend at work. So it is surprising" I replied opening the other dish. Amala wrapped in transparent nylon stared back at me. Wow.

"Angel" My pet name came out from his lips kindly that I had to look at his face.

"What?" I looked back at the dishes opening the other two.

There were gbegiri and ewedu in the other two. My heart warmed with joy of what he did. Since I arrived to London, I have not eaten this and knowing he had tried getting it for me touched me.

"I don't like the attitude" he said sincerely crouching in front of me, his hand on my lap.

"Why is that?" I tore open the Amala.

"It's hurting" he replied bowing his head.

"That was how it was hurting Mr Hussein" I poured gbegiri, ewedu and panla soup beside the Amala.

"I am sorry. I...."

"You are late Mr Hussein" I turned the soup together. "Instead of saying you are sorry, show it" I began to eat. Amir sighed burying his head in his palms before getting up.

"I am going to take my bath" he said and left for the closet.

"Angel, what colour of shirt will go with the black jeans" Amir called out as I closed the room door behind me.

I had just finished eating and had called a maid to come and collect the dirty dishes. The food was delicious which reminded me I needed to ask Amir where he got it. Of course he did not cook it? He can't cook and that was a fact about him. In his entire life, he had never boiled a kettle of water or lit a stove. He told me during our stay in Nigeria.

That was one thing that really made me kind of sad. I had dreamt of a man who could cook and would surprise me by cooking for me but it seems I am not one of those lucky women. No matter what, he is still one of the best things that had ever happened to me.

I rolled my eyes walking towards the balcony. "Why are you asking?" I turned around to look at him.

Amir stood beside the full length mirror, black jeans hugging his waist. He wore white vest tucked inside his jeans. He held a purple and white striped shirt in his right hand and blue and white check shirt in his right hand. As he moved his hands, the muscles under his smooth skin flexed and popped out.

"I want you to choose a shirt for me" he spun around to look at me. I stood my hands on my waist with my eyebrows raised up at his reply.

"I have never chosen something for you to wear except once. You do it by yourself. Why do you need my help?" I opened my palms at my question.

"It is difficult choosing" he strolled towards me. "I need your help habibti" he halted in front of me, his red lips curved up.

I looked up at him surprised. He needed my help. Really? Last night had changed a lot of things. I could have just smiled, choose a shirt and help him into it then hug him and tell him I was never angry at him but I wanted to know how far he would go to make me happy.

"Well, I have something important to do" I went into the balcony.

"Is painting really that important to you?"

"Yes, it has always been" I sat on the chair in front of my easel that had a new canvas on it. "It is my first love, my life, my reason to live" I dipped my paint brush into a red paint with a small curve of my lips.

"You do not mean that do you?" his voice was now closer. I gazed up to see him leaning on the balcony door, a hand in his pocket.

His eyes locked with mine as he ran a hand through his slicked hair. At that moment, I thought I fell in love with him over again. He was looking sexier and more handsome especially with that smile that had my heart dancing. I cleared my throat to make sure I don't stammer before replying him.

"I meant that very well" I averted my gaze to the canvas.

He said nothing so I had not looked up to see if he left or not. I began to paint lost in what I was doing. The brush moved with my hands as I poured out my heart. It was calming and peaceful to paint again. The inspiration I got from the fire was what I put down. Few minutes later, I had painted a fire burning strongly with a red rose in it. The painting was powerful. The colours were beautiful. They merged and gave out what I wanted.

"That's beautiful and strong" Amir's quiet voice made me conscious of my environment. I turned to my side to see him very close to me, his face almost touching mine. He stared at my work with a smile. My heart skipped. His musky scent filled my nose that I had gripped the brush I held tighter when I knew the effect he was having on me When did he get here? "You did a good job" he pressed his lips to my cheek. His action was so quick that I had let out a gasp and glued to my seat. He smiled then pulled away.

"At least I had the chance to peck you" he said then walked back into the room. The spot he had kissed tingled. For a moment, I still felt his soft lips on my cheek. Slowly, my hand moved up to the spot grazing it.

A knock on our door made me get up. I walked back to the room closing the balcony doors. Amir had gotten dressed already and the smell of his cologne still lingered in the air. Amir got the door. Ihsaan walked in looking so worried and scared.

"Hey sweetie" I chirped. "Why are you looking so worried? Is something wrong?" I stepped closer to her.

"There is something going on downstairs. You need to come and see" she looked at Amir then looked at me.

"What's happening?" I asked stopping beside Amir.

"You need to see yourself" her eyes became wet. Amir looked at me before turning to the girl.

"We will be down" he said and Ihsaan left the room.