Asiya stepped back, nearly squealed and hid behind her sister when the door opened.

She hadn't expected Yusuf to open the door or mentally prepared herself for him to see her like this. 

Overdressed with close to a new face drawn on hers like she was a doll a child had taken a crayon to.

"Oh," Yusuf exhaled deeply before his face pinched with embarrassment and turned red. "I meant er-erm-you look, yeah–"

As Yusuf struggled to finish his sentence, Asiya cringed and curled her hands together.

"Are you going to compliment her eventually, Yusuf?" Aminah sniffed, clearly unimpressed.

Yusuf's face got brighter, displaying a colour Asiya's face felt like.

"Aminah," Asiya hissed as she elbowed her sister in her side.

Yusuf didn't say anything, but he remained in the doorway, his face the colour of a traffic light, with his eyes lowered.

"We're here to pick up your mum and some stuff for the mendhi," Asiya explained as she played with her fingers.

"Ah yeah." Yusuf cleared his throat. "She's running late."

"It's okay. So are we," Aminah said.

"Do you...do you guys want to wait inside?" Yusuf asked hesitantly. "Mum should be done soon."

Asiya looked at her older sister as though asking for permission.

"Lead the way," Aminah said with a slight nod.

Asiya lifted her abaya as she stepped over the threshold, revealing the flared-out bottoms of her Gharara. 

Gold glitter and sequins had been sewn onto it in swirly patterns, and the material swished around her ankles like waves lapping on a beach.

Asiya's heart thumped as she sat on the only black leather sofa that wasn't cluttered with decorations, gift bags, and pieces of fabric. She clutched the front of her abaya in her hand.

When Olivia held a mirror in front of Asiya's face and asked her what she thought, Asiya had replied that she felt pretty.

But now, the little gemstones Olivia had delicately pressed around Asiya's eyes felt like boulders pushing into her skin. Her dark green hijab felt too tight, and the gold broach it was pinned with was too heavy.

Asiya kept rubbing her lips together to reduce the gloss, which was too shiny and felt like a beacon in Yusuf's living room, which consisted mostly of dark colours and beige.

Only the bottom of her bright outfit peeked out from under her black abaya, but Asiya still felt like a stain on a white carpet.

She crossed her ankles together, hoping Yusuf wouldn't notice how odd she looked cosplaying his culture.

She felt like an imposter. She had woven in and out of boutiques with Hannah and Olivia and paraded up and down Green Street until deciding on an outfit.

She had spent hours scrolling online for inspo for her mendhi look, pouring her eyes over beautiful girls who looked nothing like her and had not just suited their mendhi looks but dazzled in them.

Asiya pressed her ankles tighter against each other, not even registering the tiny specs of pain that came from  from the silver studs and embroidery stabbing into her skin.

She had overdone it.

She felt like she was trying too hard to fit in, and Yusuf hadn't finished what Aminah had assumed would be a compliment.

"Your mum's place is nice," Aminah said.

Yusuf grimaced as though he didn't believe her before thanking her.

"Are you excited about the mendhi?" Yusuf asked Asiya.

Asiya kept her eyes on a framed artwork as she replied, limiting Yusuf's view of her face. "Yeah. I'm looking forward to getting my henna done."

"That's nice."

Asiya hummed and studied her fingers, dedicating all her attention to counting the lines on her skin.

The only sound in the room was the clock. Asiya didn't want to move. Eyes followed movement, and she didn't want Yusuf's eyes on her.

"I'm here! Sorry! I'm here!" Hannah announced as she rushed into the living room, balancing boxes in her arms while the handle of plastic bags desperately held onto her fingers.

Everyone sprang to their feet and helped Hannah offload her luggage onto the floor.

Aminah placed her hand over a pile of boxes. "Is this for the mendhi? Can I take them to the car?"

"Yes, those are for the hall," Hannah answered.

"I'll carry them," Yusuf said as he scooped the boxes into his arms.

"Thank you because I cannot walk in these heels!" Hannah moaned.

"Lead the way," Yusuf said to Aminah.

"I'll wait for you guys in the car," Aminah said to Asiya before she exited the flat, Yusuf shuffling behind.

Hannah moved around the room, carelessly shifting and throwing aside half-done decorations off the furniture while she fanned her face exasperatedly. "I'm so sorry! Today has been hectic! The decorations weren't done in time, and I still wanted to cook–"

"Oh, Asiya," Hannah cooed as she stopped rushing around the room and looked at Asiya. "You look beautiful."

Asiya dabbed her forehead with her finger. Even though her face felt sticky with sweat, her finger was dry and not discoloured from her makeup. "Do I actually?"

Hannah nodded furiously. "Can I see your full look?"

Asiya stood up slowly and shakily unclasped her abaya. The black material separated like a curtain opening a play.

Hannah clutched Asiya's arms and turned her body slightly, examining her head to toe like a teacher checking for a uniform violation.

Asiya was a concoction of colour.

Her dupatta and trousers were dark green and glittered with gold embroidery. Her shirt was hot pink and splashed with gold sequins. Strips of orange, purple, and dark blue material bordered the bottom of Asiya's trousers and shirt, and each strip bore the same intricate streams of reflective embroidery.

"Beautiful," Hannah complimented as she touched the pink border of Asiya's dupatta. "But you're missing something."

Hannah opened a shoe-sized box she had placed on the table. "This was my wedding jewellery, but it's yours now, and you should wear it tonight," she said, pulling out the protectively bubble-wrapped items.

"Auntie," Asiya placed her hand up in protest as she eyed the large pieces, "They're stunning, but I can't take them!"

"Nonsense! Nonsense! You're not taking anything. I'm giving this to you. It's a gift from your mother-in-law, so you have no choice but to accept it."

Hannah straightened out a necklace on the table. It had layers of fragile gold beads that were small, like the fingertips of the precious hands they had probably been mined by.

"Sit," Hannah ordered.

"Auntie, please, there's no need," Asiya insisted.

The jewellery looked expensive. The size of the pieces and the way they had been wrapped, their beauty and worth hidden under mounds of bubble wrap like a time capsule, suggested they weren't meant to be worn, at least not by her.

"I said sit," Hannah lightly snapped.

Asiya hesitantly did what she was told.

Hannah stood behind Asiya.

"Did your mum gift these to you?" Asiya asked as she felt Hannah's hands slip under her dupatta.

Hannah's fingers brushed against Asiya's scarf as she tried to clasp the necklace. "No. I bought all my wedding jewellery myself."

Asiya heard a small click and looked down as the necklace settled on her scarf like an anchor on the seabed.

"My mum had given me some of her jewellery when I was younger. She would share it with me and my sisters every Eid or on our birthdays," Hannah picked up the tikka, "But when I introduced Yusuf's dad to my family." Hannah sucked air between her teeth. "She took it back."

"I won't tell you the ins and outs of it, but my wedding was small. Cheap, actually," Hannah said with a small chuckle.

She didn't have to. Yusuf had told Asiya enough for her to know that Hannah's marriage had been a contentious affair.

"Did your family attend?" Asiya asked.

Hannah held the tikka in front of Asiya's head. "My sister did, Hina. She didn't speak to me, though, and she didn't stay. When the imam finished his duas, I turned around, and she was gone. I think she came to see if I had the balls to go through with it."

Once she had decided where to place the tikka, Hannah uncapped a tub of eyelash glue, brushed some onto the back, and pressed the tikka firmly against Asiya's forehead. Her tongue stuck out slightly as she waited for the glue to dry.

"You went through with it," Asiya said.

"I did," Hannah sighed."I was younger, a lot braver and more confident. I also never thought Yusuf's dad would die and leave me by myself so soon."

Hannah squinted at the tikka and applied more pressure. "Anyway, I bought all my jewellery with some of my mahr. My engagement and wedding rings were a gift from Yusuf's dad."

Asiya's eyes flitted up to Hannah's naked fingers.

Hannah picked up the bangles and sat beside Asiya before pushing them up Asiya's wrists. "I chose the jewellery myself. In a way, they marked me sort of going out on my own and starting a new family."

Hannah scooted backwards on the sofa. "There," she said softly as her eyes moved over Asiya. "Beautiful." She looked at a sitting Asiya with such familiarity that it was nearly frightening.

Asiya looked down and touched her necklace.

When she looked up through her lashes to thank Hannah for the gifts, Hannah's eyes were cloudy and distant, and her hand reached up to her own neck as though she were Asiya's reflection.

"Auntie?" Asiya called out gently. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yes!" Hannah laughed slightly and rapidly blinked. "Sorry, I zoned out."

"Thank you for all of this," Asiya said.

Hannah gave Asiya a small smile and clapped her hands together. "I hope you'll accept them, Asiya, and take them as me welcoming you into the family.

Asiya took Hannah's hand and squeezed it. Squishing her soft skin between her fingers. "Thank you," Asiya whispered.

Hannah patted Asiya's hand gently as if she were soothing a baby.

"The car's packed...." Yusuf's voice grew quieter as he stepped into the flat. "Is everything okay?" he asked as Asiya and Hannah separated.

"Of course!" Hannah said as Asiya hurriedly put on her abaya, hiding the gold on her neck and wrist.

"Shall we go?" Hannah looked at Asiya.

"Sure," Asiya nodded.

"We'll see you later, Yusuf." Hannah kissed his cheek before she staggered back, nearly slipping out of the flat in her heels.

Yusuf pressed his back against the wall so Asiya could pass. "I'll see you soon, Asiya."

"InshAllah," Asiya said quietly.

Her bangles jingled and clicked against each other as she walked past, as though they were singing and sniggering childishly with each other, saying that was who their wearer was about to be married to.

-

"What was that?" Aminah grabbed Asiya's arm, stopping her from following Hannah into the community centre.

A few people had parked and were piling around the centre's door. None of them were faces Asiya recognised.

"What was what?" Asiya asked.

"At Yusuf's place. You guys were awkward as hell!" Aminah exclaimed.

Asiya released a breath before her brows crumpled together, and her bottom lip jutted out slightly.

Aminah wrapped her arms around Asiya as though she was about to fall apart. She turned her away from the hall and told Hannah that she should enter without them.

Aminah walked Asiya back to the car, unlocked it and pushed her into the backseat.

Asiya pushed her shoulders against the leather, wishing she could sink into it. She felt like an old spring being pulled apart.

"Asiya," Aminah said slowly, "if you've changed your mind and don't want to go through with this anymore, you don't have to. You can end this at any time. Mum and dad will support you. I'll have your back."

"No, it's not that," Asiya said quietly. "I'm just scared."

"That's normal," Aminah said reassuringly. "You're entering a new chapter of your life. That's okay. What's scaring you? Is it Yusuf? Are you still upset with him?"

"No. I'm worried for him," Asiya admitted.

Aminah furrowed her eyebrows. "Why?"

Asiya gently tugged at her necklace, which had started to feel more like a noose. "I'm worried about him seeing me. All of me."

Although Asiya was wearing a plain, black abaya, her wrists twinkled with gold and she had clunked past Yusuf noisily.

Her face had been painted perfectly because all of Olivia's looks were perfect, even if her model wasn't, and Yusuf hadn't said a thing. He had barely even noticed.

If Yusuf couldn't even cough out a compliment or show a sign that he found her attractive when she looked like this, what would happen when they were alone? When Asiya had to undress?

"Seeing you?" Aminah echoed.

"Yes. Without my hijab. Without all of this." Asiya motioned towards her body. 

Without any clothes, her mind added silently. 

"I don't want him to be disappointed, Aminah, and I can't help but feel like he will be...like he already is."

Aminah snorted, triggering a laugh from her belly.

Asiya gaped at her sister before glaring at her. "Why are you laughing?" she demanded angrily.

Asiya didn't need someone laughing about her looks right now, not when she knew they didn't fit the Western beauty standard or any standard Yusuf, and she had grown up surrounded by.

Aminah continued laughing, and Asiya crossed her arms over her body.

Her body was covered in blemishes. Parts of Asiya's pigment were uneven. She had shadows from spots her mum had warned her not to pick.

Asiya's body was a recap of her childhood and past events. Events that were so pivotal to her life that the memory of them had scabbed over and stained her skin.

Asiya had been able to hide those things. Her outside attire was a form of worship to God and simultaneously a cover from others and for her. Yusuf would see her without it.

Her baggy clothes melted her shape into something smooth, but without them, Asiya's body was anything but.

Asiya saw her stomach as a sign of laziness and overindulgence, not as an organ that had stored the laughs and love she had shared with others over meals. She viewed her uneven pigment as something that could've been preventable if she had been more consistent with her skincare.

Asiya didn't look like most women or any of the women Yusuf had grown up around.

Asiya's hair wasn't bone straight. It didn't drop down her back. She couldn't run her fingers through it. She had tight curls that crowned her head with an afro when they were brushed.

"Aminah! Stop laughing!" Asiya sulked.

"I'm sorry," Aminah apologised between her laughs.

Aminah puffed out a loud breath and looked at her sister with a 'I'm definitely not sorry' smile that Asiya wanted to slap off her sister's face.

"I'm laughing at you, yes. But not because of what you think," Aminah said. "Asiya, Yusuf finds you beautiful."

Asiya rolled her eyes. "How do you know? Did you read his mind? Did he tell you that?"

"He doesn't have to. It's so obvious."

"He couldn't even compliment me back at his!"

Aminah scoffed. "Is that what's brought this all on?"

Asiya pouted. "Yes and no."

"Asiya, he was practically choking. It was like seeing you had taken away all of his air! He would've probably complimented you if I wasn't standing next to you, glaring at him like a mother hen, and he'd taken my eggs!"

"You were glaring at him?"

"Because he was staring at you," Aminah grinned. "Asiya, he literally gasped when he saw you!"

"That could've been out of shock. The bad kind," Asiya said.

"Are you joking? His jaw hit the floor! And anyway, you don't need him to tell you you're beautiful. You're beautiful. That's a fact, and you don't need to worry about whether he thinks you are either cause I'm certain he does. He wouldn't marry you if he wasn't attracted to you."

"He might be attracted to my face," Asiya said, though she didn't entirely believe that. "But what about the rest of me? After we get married, he'll see my body!"

"He'll find that beautiful as well because it's yours," Aminah argued.

"What if he doesn't? What if on our first night–"

"Asiya, you don't have to do or show him anything on the first night. Or on the second. Or on the third. You don't have to do or show him anything until you're ready. Farooq and I played Uno on our first night alone together. Get that backwards expectation of something having to happen on the first night out of your head," Aminah said sternly before her voice softened.

"I'm not only saying this cause you're my sister, Asiya. You're beautiful. Yusuf thinks that, too. Anyone can see that, and he can tell you that until he's blue in the face, but it won't help your feelings until you believe you are."

"I've tried to," Asiya insisted, "I do."

I did.

Asiya was trying, but she couldn't get over the views held by Yusuf's family.

Aunt Hina's words had been tearing Asiya's reflections and view of herself apart ever since she had said them.

Doubt dribbled into every thought Asiya had about herself and Yusuf's feelings.

A group chat had been made with their families, and Yusuf's spoke about their wedding like he was marrying a ghost.

They planned out her wedding details while excluding her as one, speaking as though Asiya was something insignificant and replaceable—a bay leaf being added at the top of a hearty stew, something they'd be able to slot in on the day of her events and slot out immediately afterwards.

Aunt Hina had said the word black as if it were something ugly.

Although that wasn't his intention, Yusuf's actions made Asiya feel ugly. Like Frankenstein, something he hid while claiming to love.

"I just can't help thinking I'll disappoint him."

"Asiya," Aminah tutted softly. "You won't disappoint Yusuf. You can't disappoint him. Not when it's obvious that you've already exceeded all his expectations."

Expectations. "How can I be sure?" Asiya asked, her hands flaring out desperately. "I look nothing like the people he's grown up around. I'm nothing like them."

"Exactly," Aminah stroked Asiya's cheek lovingly, "and Yusuf chose you, and in some ways, Asiya, a lot of ways, not being like them is a good thing."

Aminah sighed. "Asiya, do you really think Yusuf is someone that would make you feel like you weren't beautiful? Treat you like a disappointment? Do you really think he'd reduce your worth to what your body looks like?" Aminah questioned.

"No," Asiya answered. Yusuf is good. Even if he was disappointed, he'd probably put on his best face and pretend.

"There you go then. Speak kindly to yourself, Asiya, how you speak to Olivia, Kulthum, and me, and ignore those unkind voices in your head, even if they're yours."

Asiya threw her body against Aminah's, who held her tightly until Asiya let go.

"You ready to go in?" Aminah asked.

"I just have one more thing to ask...about the first night," Asiya squeaked. "Or not, actually."

Aminah raised an eyebrow.

"When will I be ready?" Asiya asked.

Asiya knew her rights, including Islamic ones. She had received an awkward talk from her mother and attended the sister's Q&A one night on her marriage course. She had studied intimacy like it was a manual but still felt like she didn't know enough to approach it or instigate it.

"I can't say. You'll just know," Aminah replied.

"Don't give me that wishy washy movie romance stuff," Asiya groaned.

"I mean it! You'll just know!" Aminah giggled. "You'll just want to. You'll feel safe and comfortable with him, even if you're still a bit scared, which is normal, by the way.

"Now, can we get out of the car? It's getting stuffy!" Aminah said as she pushed open her door.

Asiya followed her sister out before Aminah locked the car and linked their arms.

"They're playing music. Even though I told them not to," Asiya growled as they walked towards the centre.

"We'll get them to change it to vocals only or turn it off." Aminah patted Asiya's hand. "Just focus on yourself tonight and having the best time possible. You look stunning, and this mendhi is to celebrate you."

Asiya smiled as they stepped into the hall.

The words of others were still there, lingering in Asiya's mind like the remnants of a tea bag at the bottom of a cup, but Asiya had to do what she had done before, fill her cup with something else until they dissolved.  

- 

Author's Note: Said it before I'll say it again I LOVE Asiya's family dynamic. 🤍🥹. 

- 

Chapter Glossary:

Allah: The One God. 

Abaya: A loose, long dress worn by Muslim women.

Hijab: A head covering worn by Muslim women. Hijab is meant to cover your hair, ears, neck and chest.

Imam: A title. Someone who is leader.

InshAllah: Arabic Term. God Willing.

Mehndi: Also known as a henna party, typically a female only event. The bride has henna drawn onto her hands and feet and there tend to be performances, dancing and food.

Eid: A Muslim holiday. There are two eid celebrations.

Dua; To call out to God. It is an act of worship, prayer.