Contrasting Realities 15

I woke up the next day feeling refreshed and overwhelmingly happy. I sprang out of bed quickly and walked towards the window. The weather was as beautiful as it was on the day we got here. I took all the air in and skipped towards M7ammad’s room.

I knocked on the door.

“9ba7 el5air M7ammad” I said, and I could feel positivity radiating from my voice.

Suddenly, the door opened and M7ammad appeared. With his messy hair, he was standing infront of me and rubbing his eyes just like a little baby.

He looked so adorable that I just wanted to pinch his cheeks. But that wasn’t why I was blushing – or stuttering for that matter.

He was wearing no shirt on top of his dark tracksuit pants. Standing there infront of me were six packs so well-toned, they put body builders to shame. Every line between his muscles made a perfect indentation in his slightly tanned body that lightly reeked of M7, allowing the surrounding muscles to bulge through. With his hands still rubbing his eyes, I could identify the margins of each muscle in his arm as well. The sight infront of me was enough to sweep any woman (and possibly any man) off her feet.

“9ba7 elnoor Haya…shlonich elyoum?” he spoke while still rubbing his eyes.

“umm…el7amdella…umm…much better….yala bser3a get dressed 3shan la net2a5ar”

“Yamdy I take a shower wla la2?” he moved his hand away from his face and looked into my eyes.

I heard what he said, but my brain was blocked so badly that, not only did I not reply, but I continued gazing into his eyes.

"8a9dy ya3ny cham elsa3a al7en?" he spoke after a few moments of silence.

"Huh?"

"Aby a5eth shower...madree yamdy?" he repeated, not taking his eyes off of mine.

“ee ee embala yamdy 7ata ana al7en I’m gonna go shower”


I walked towards my room trying to shake his sanity-compromising image out of my head. I wasn’t planning on taking a shower, but I knew I needed some hot water to put my brain back to where it belonged, and maybe help me evaporate and wash away all those mental pictures going through my head.

A few moments after I got into the shower, I heard a knock on my room’s door.

“Haya?” said his very faint and muffled voice.

I stepped out of the shower and opened the bathroom’s door, peeking my head into the cold room.

“Hala?” I said from behind my room’s closed door.

“Aby a6lb mnch 6alab bs kind of mn7erej” he said

“Shda3wa M7ammad…t7acha”

“My fist mn ams…mo gader a7arka. Fa mo gader I iron my shirt. Oo I called the laundry people, oo galaw they can only return it in minimum 2 hours. Fa may5alef you iron it for me?”

I contemplated the thought for a few moments, then concluded that he sounded sincere enough for me to believe him.

“Ee ma 3endy mane3, bs mako iron bl room eli ana feeha”

“Ako eb mine. I tried using it gabl ma ayeech, bs I burnt a shirt in the process”

“5alas, ana a5ale9 oo ayeek”

“I’m so sorry about this Haya…wallah madree shagoolich”

“Shda3wa M7ammad mako shay. Its fine don’t worry”

After thanking me, he left to his room. I finished my shower and put on my clothes. I wore flat ballerinas today, since my feet were killing me after last night’s walking. I reached for my phone.

2 New Messages

From: Layla
I’m boarding in a little while. Will be there at around 3 or 4pm. See you there =)

From: Dad
Tried calling your phone, bs el56oo6 mo shay. Give us a call! Welahna 3laich!

Nothing from 3abboud…

As I called my dad up, I felt my heart sinking again at the thought that 3abboud didn’t even bother calling me up. It was very unlike him to act this way. It was the first time we’d ever gotten cross at each other, but I never imagined that he could act so immaturely. It was a new side of him that I’d never seen before.

My spirits were immediately lifted when I heard my dad’s voice, though. He seemed to have missed me so much. He even woke mom up from her sleep just to talk to me. I was surprised by their attitude; it wasn’t the first time that I was away for business. It was only after I hung up that I realized that it was the first time I was away since 3abboud. I think it hit them that their little baby girl is finally getting a life of her own and will soon be out of theirs.

The realization broke my heart too. Thinking of how much I’d miss my parents if I’d ever get married, I walked out of my room and headed towards M7ammad’s. I knocked on the door and waited for him. After I heard some shuffles and squeaks and things falling on things, he opened the door.


And I wish he hadn’t…

If I was stuttering a few minutes ago, I was completely speechless now. He was standing there, with his wet hair glistening against the light in the corridor. He was standing there with the water beads lightly trickling down his skin. He was standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist.

I, on the other hand, was standing there trying my best to control my senses. Breathing was never a more difficult task than in those few moments.

“Come in please. Thanks so much for this Haya” he said, closing the door behind me.

I was quiet. I was silent. I was tongue-tied.

And I was looking at the ground and making sure I never looked up.

“This is it” he said, handing me an apple green shirt.

He sat on the sofa at the opposite end of the room, while I was ironing the shirt. I placed the ironing table in such a way that my back was towards him the whole time, because I didn’t know what I would do if I lay my eyes on him once again.

“Balbesa m3 this suit oo this tie” he said pointing towards the olive green suit hung on the side of the cupboard door and the lime green tie hung on its side.

I continued ironing in silence.

“Haya, are you okay? Shfeech sakta?”

I wanted to tell him that I had absolutely nothing to say, but even that much wouldn’t come out.

I tried to think of anything. Anything.

“Layla is arriving this afternoon” I said after a long pause of silence.

“Elbajeen hamm ma 7a9elaw 7ajz?”

“No”

“Tra we have to do something about Rana when we get back. What she did is unacceptable”

I nodded.

He was quiet for a few moments, then spoke again. This time, his voice lighter and more...playful.


“Awwal marra ashoofich labsa flats elyom oo mo heels”

I still couldn’t speak, but I realized that I was clenching the iron harder.

“You’re probably not going to believe me when I say this, but you look much better chithee. So petite. So…” he paused for a second,"…cute.”

Breathing was becoming more difficult again. I was trying to interpret his voice.

Was he flirting with me?

No No NO!

That’s not possible. I’m not his type. He knows I hate him. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with me. His facial expression would explain to me what his intentions were, but I didn’t have enough courage to look at his face. I wasn’t sure if my knees would support me if I did.

When I was done ironing the shirt, I turned towards him. He was now lying on the sofa with his head tilted towards the ceiling. He was staring at it for a long time until he realized that I was done ironing. I still couldn’t speak.

“That was fast”, he said

He got up and walked towards me, and then stood infront of me, face to face. Our bodies were only a few inches apart. I knew he was burying holes in my forehead, so I kept looking at the shirt and pretended to fidget with it to avoid his gaze. Standing so close to me, his now not-so-faint M7 managed to churn my stomach, just like it always did. I wasn’t even sure if he was wearing any cologne, or if my brain had made the association on its own.

I knew that if I had looked into his eyes, it would have been very difficult to keep my hands off him, despite that fact that the person infront of me was M7ammad; the same person whom only hours earlier I couldn’t stand.

I finally managed to speak, after more than a whole minute of silence. I know this because I had been looking at my watch in attempts to avoid his piercing blue eyes.

“I..It…Its not as…as good as I would want it to be…bs…umm…the iron...is…erm…its not very good. Erm…that’s the best I could do”. Who knew forming sentences could be so hard?

He held the shirt with one hand, but still not quite pulling it out of mine. His voice went down to a mere whisper. It was as sexy as any male voice could get.

“It’s perfect" his whisper made every hair on my body stand up. "It doesn’t get anymore perfect than this…" he paused, "...Haya”

His voice transformed me to another planet, where Brad Pitt and George Clooney were average men. I was so fluttered, I couldn’t even react. A couple more minutes passed by with us standing there, only inches apart, as I stared at my watch. I could feel his hand moving somewhere around my head, but I didn’t know what he was doing or what he was trying to reach out for. For a moment, it stopped next to my face, and it felt like he was going to reach for it.