"Wake up, sleeping beauty." Dawood used his toes to nudge Yusuf in his side.

Yusuf stretched the sleep out of his body before propping himself up with his elbows.

"I wasn't sleeping," Yusuf grumbled.

"You were snoring," Dawood deadpanned.

Yusuf looked at his watch. "My eyes were resting for exactly thirteen minutes. It takes twenty minutes on average for someone to fall asleep," he said.

"Plus. I would never sleep and risk missing the food," Yusuf grinned as he nodded towards the pizza box in Dawood's hands.

"I've noticed a pattern with you," Dawood hummed as he placed the pizza box on the floor. "You only attend the Quran circles when we order food."

"Ha!" Yusuf snickered as he flipped open the box. "Be serious. I come every weekend, and on the weekdays, I'm free."

"Yes, and somehow, those are always the days when Musa orders food."

"What can I say? Allahuma Barik," Yusuf smirked as he used a plastic knife to separate a slice for himself. "Allah's timing is the best timing."

"Yeah, yeah." Dawood waved away Yusuf's gloats.

"How's your job search going?" Yusuf asked before biting into his slice.

"It's not," Dawood answered. "Honestly, I've not looked for one since I got let go. I want to enjoy the peace and freedom. I've decided to enjoy it until my savings get low."

"That sounds nice," Yusuf said.

"It would be as nice as it sounds if my mum wasn't on my ass." Dawood kicked one of his legs over the other. "She wants me out of the house, but only if I'm married. Not having a salary is stopping that, according to her."

"I don't think that's the only thing stopping you," Yusuf teased.

Dawood rolled his eyes. "What about you? Your mum still bringing rishta's over to yours?"

It was Yusuf's turn to roll his eyes.

Ever since he had sketched his signature on the dotted line of his training contract, his mother and aunt had been acting like they were in the match-making business. His aunt was the major stakeholder, and Yusuf had the honour of being their only client.

For the last two years, they had been shoving biodata's, profiles and women in Yusuf's face.

The last time Yusuf visited home, his aunt paraded rishtas in front of him like they were suspects in a lineup.

Because of that, he had decided to stop telling his family when he would visit.

"They're focused on one rishta now," Yusuf said with a grimace. "A girl I went to school with."

"Did you like her?" Dawood asked.

"Nope. Didn't fancy her then, and I do not fancy her now," Yusuf replied.

It didn't matter how often Sarah 'coincidentally' showed up at his aunt's house when he was visiting; Yusuf would not engage with her.

Especially now that a future with Asiya was no longer a dream and Yusuf had a chance to be with her outside the walls of his imagination.

Puddles of yellow oil stained Yusuf's fingertips as he moved the piece into his mouth and chewed.

It was Saturday afternoon. It had been three days since he gave Asiya his number, and he hadn't received any messages or missed calls from unknown numbers.

Yusuf wasn't sure whether he had a right to consider Asiya as being in the picture when she hadn't even called him back and agreed to see it.

But he needed to get his feelings off his chest, and perhaps the person he handed them to could do a better job of figuring them out.

"There might be someone else," Yusuf said.

"Someone else?" A slow grin trickled across Dawood's face. "Tell me about this, someone else."

So, Yusuf did.

Yusuf told Dawood about how they had first met and how he had seen Asiya again, grown up and grown into herself.

How Asiya had only bumped into him because the sight of her had struck Yusuf into a spell, one where he had been paralysed, unable to move.

How all these feelings Yusuf wasn't even aware that he had were breaking out of his unconscious mind. He told Dawood how their reunion had caused him to pull on his feelings, and like the belly of a tick, he had discovered they were bigger and messier than he had thought.

They felt vast and intense, and like the water that made up the ocean, Yusuf couldn't figure out where they had started from. All he knew was that he was shipwrecked, and Asiya was the seabed calling him home.

"Damn, you're gone bro," Dawood whistled. "But did you say she's this Sarah's friend?"

"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know. The last time I saw them together, things were tense. But, anyway, Sarah's not important to me. She's just my aunt's favourite assistant right now. We've never spoken more than a few sentences to each other. I don't even have her number."

"But you have Asiya's? You have her dad's?"

"No," Yusuf shook his head. "But they have mine."

"What do you mean?"

"I gave her my number to give to her dad."

Dawood dropped his slice, closed his eyes and slapped a slimy hand against his forehead.

"Bro!" Dawood burst. "That's the first step in how to lose a potential one-oh-one! She took your number so there'd be no strings, no obligations and no way of you contacting her!"

"So?" Yusuf passed Dawood a tissue. "She has every right to protect herself."

Dawood used the tissue to wipe away the grease marks on his forehead. "That she does. But the way you just spoke about her? Your feelings towards her sound deep—real deep. Have you deeped the fact that she or her dad may never message or call you? They may never contact you. You may never hear from her again."

Yusuf's brain began to buzz with what Dawood had just said. His chest tightened like a seatbelt in a car crash as he thought about that reality.

Is Dawood right?

Would Asiya silently slip out of his life like sand did through one's fingers?

That didn't feel right.

According to Newton's third law, it wouldn't be right. 

Asiya had crashed her way into his life. 

Even if she was going to leave and not stay long enough for things between them to develop, Asiya's exit would equal her entrance. 

Chaotic, loud, and rippling. 

She would leave him with something, even if it was a broken heart.

It didn't feel like Asiya had taken his number to get rid of him, and it didn't feel like she was scared of him when she typed it into her phone.

The light taps Asiya's fingers had made might as well have been Morse code. The sounds had sounded promising to Yusuf and filled him with hope.

Asiya taking his number was meant to be the start of something. Not the end.

It couldn't be.

When he saw her, the magnetic tugging Yusuf felt between them had transformed into a forceful pull. How could such a force lead to such a dull end?

She was glad I said something. "I'm glad you said something." That was what she said! That couldn't have been a lie.

But it was nearly Isha time. Saturday was almost over. 

Tomorrow would be Sunday. Then it would be Monday. 

Asiya would be back from home and back at work.

If she doesn't tell her dad this weekend...will she tell him at all?

Yusuf hadn't considered what he would do if he never heard back from Asiya. He had pushed that fear down when he had given her his number, refusing to face it.

Now Dawood had dredged it back up, and that possibility was as chilling as he had feared.

Yusuf placed his half-eaten slice back in the box. Unable to swallow reality.

If Asiya never messaged him, Yusuf knew he wouldn't move on—not when he had gotten so close to her, and his thoughts had tasted a reality where he could be with her.

"Just pray about it, man," Dawood sighed.

Yusuf nodded slightly. "I will."

"If she doesn't get back to you and you really want to get married, at least you have options."

Yusuf held his breath.

How could he explain that Asiya wasn't an option? There was no competition. There were no others. How could Yusuf explain that without sounding crazy?

A few conversations back when they were kids and barely half of one in her office on Wednesday shouldn't have created such a connection.

Yusuf couldn't see himself marrying anyone else, though. His feelings would never do anyone that wasn't Asiya justice.

They felt like they had been drawn just for her. 

They were drawn in her shape, in her favourite colours, with pens engraved with Asiya's name. 

They weren't made to be shown to anyone else.

Asiya had left a stain on him that day. It would only ever be her.

-

Author's Note: Yusuf is COOKED! 🤣. Definition of she fell first but he fell harder. 🥹. I love it here! 🤭. I hope you're loving it here too! 🤍

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Chapter Glossary

Quran: The thing that is recited. The religious book.

Allahuma Barik: "May Allah Bless You/it". It's often said to another Muslim as a token of appreciation.

Rishta's: Potential partners.

Isha: The night prayer