Nicholas leaned against the palm of his hands, silently admiring the beautiful girl across the table. She looked divine, sitting all by herself with a book in hand, absolutely no care in the world. Her lavender headscarf wrapped around her head, tightly. She fidgeted with the ends. Her dark eyes eagerly absorbed the words that were plastered on the page, her fingers flipping through the pages, one by one. Nicholas found himself getting lost in his observations.

He felt helpless, completely at surrender for her mercy. Every day, he waited the aching hours for her arrival, and each day that she smiled at him, his heart thumped a different beat. His cheeks would redden every time they made eye contact, his hands would shake as nerves ate at him, and his body longed for her attention. The world was invisible around him. She was all that he thought about.

Get a grip, Nick.

Shaking his head, he removed his gaze from her alluring figure. He looked down at his own book, reading each line more than once, for he had forgotten the entire page. His mind wouldn't cooperate, it kept screaming her name. He was eager to hear her voice, but he had to hold himself down. She would never feel the same.

Nicholas was trapped in a hopeless romance, the torture from it was driving him insane. She drove him to insanity. She made him want things he never wanted before. She made him feel something that he couldn't put a name on yet.

Soft footsteps approached him, he already knew who it was. He slowly lifted his bright blue eyes. Dina tilted her head at him, her lips curving upwards into a small smile. Nicholas felt his heart do a double take, pounding against his chest as he froze. Her brown eyes twinkled.

"Don't you ever get lonely in such a big library?" she asked.

He couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

"Nemo?"

That name, why did it make him feel so shy? "Sorry," he mumbled, clearing his throat. "Lost my train of thought for a second."

She laughed, "I hate when that happens."

If only she knew that she was the cause for his bundle of nerves.

"I saw you at the grocery store the other day," he blurted out before he could even comprehend what he was saying.

Her eyebrows scrunched. "Really? Sorry, I didn't see you," she admitted, sheepishly.

"I hate to be the ignorant type, but why do you wear a headscarf but your little sister doesn't?"

She leaned against the counter, a faint smile playing on her lips. "She's too young," she said, softly. "Islam doesn't force hijab on a girl. It's entirely her choice. My little sister doesn't have to start wearing it now."

"So if it's a choice, then why do you wear it?"

"It was my choice. I believe that all things beautiful stay covered, so society can't objectify me for my body, for who I am. My hijab protects me from that type of judgement. When people look at me, they don't immediately think about my body or what I'd be like in their beds," she explained.

"H-Hijab?"

She nodded. "It's a personal act of modesty from me. It shows that I'm devoted to God. People look at me for my intelligence instead of my figure. They see me as respectable. Regardless, there's still that handful of perverts that try something more," she shrugged. "That's just a societal problem, however, the majority of men won't even give a glance at me because I'm covered. That means that I'm judged for my mind more so than my body. I'm respected not only by the other gender but other people as well."

"I don't know about that," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Men are some sexual creatures."

She pondered for a minute, thinking before a light bulb went off in her head. "Think of it this way," she started, "would you rather look at a girl who was in a lowest cut dress or a Muslim woman who was covered from head to toe?"

Nicholas didn't even have to think too long for that. "Depends, who is the Muslim woman?" he asked, a teasing glint in his blue eyes.

Clearly oblivious behind the hidden meaning in his words, she twitched her nose in irritation. "That is not the important part, Nemo!" she huffed, turning away from him.

Nicholas noticed that her gray hoodie hugged her waist from the movement, her sweatpants touching the outline of her hips. She was right, her body wasn't the first thing Nicholas noticed. He recognized her wits, her remarks, and most of all her mesmerizing brown eyes.

"I beg to differ. I'd like to know my options thoroughly."

She rolled her eyes. "Just pick," she sighed.

"You," he whispered.

She froze, her eyes widening at his small confession. "What?" she asked in complete disbelief.

He cleared his throat, forcing his nerves to go down, and praying that he wouldn't stutter. This was his chance, he could admit to her how he really felt, he could stop being a coward to his emotions. His mind was urging him, yet the rational part of his brain hissed. She wouldn't feel the same. He knew it.

"I said you," he repeated as he felt the sweat at his brow. "I'd look at you first every time."

"Stop messing with me."

He grinned, "I'm not."

"Really?" she questioned, curiously.

For a moment, he thought that there was a small possibility that she shared his feelings. The way she was looking at him with that hopeful gleam in her eyes, and the surprised expression painted perfectly across her gentle features had him going weak at his knees. The way her lips parted had Nicholas clenching his fists, trying to fight the urge to hold her in his arms.

"Perhaps."

"You're not very funny, Nicholas."

He felt his body go limp. She called him by his real name. She never called him by that. Immediately, Nicholas felt scared, he was terrified. He spoke too soon, he went too fast for her, she must have hated him. He wanted to crawl under a rock and never emerge again; he wanted to disappear to save himself from further embarrassment.

However, Nicholas noticed something for the first time.

A faint blush colored the apples of her cheeks; she gently bit down on her lower lip. She wasn't looking at him, her gaze was trained on the ground beneath them. She fidgeted with her fingers. Nicholas could sense the inner battle she was going through. She was holding herself back.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Dina."

Her name rolled off his tongue smoothly that he almost swore that he saw her shiver. She didn't lift her head; it hung low, making Nicholas feel even worse. Guilt gnawed at his conscience. He shouldn't have pushed her. Dina stayed silent, not saying a word.

He sighed, standing and walking over to her side, careful not to touch her. He put his hands into his pockets, leaning his back against the counter. He watched as she slowly breathed, clearly aware of his presence. Her cheeks reddened even more. The gold of her skin did no justice to her beauty. Nicholas was breathless.

"I was wondering," he began, casually as if the small moment before never happened, "could you tell me more about your hijab? I don't even know if I said it right."

Her body seemed to relax and she exhaled a deep breath. "You said it right," she smiled.

"Good, I don't want to be one of those white guys that can't even pronounce things," he chuckled.

"Sit," she commanded. "By the end of today, you're going to know all about hijab," she winked.

Nicholas obeyed. He was glad that she didn't get too offended by his words. However, he began to wonder what had caused Dina's overly joyous self to look so scared as soon as he subtly confessed. She had been frozen, completely stunned.

One thing was obvious; Dina wasn't just a crush anymore.

----

Oh Lordy, it's been a little over a month and this book got 5k reads. Damn, Nemo is getting popular.

Who else is kinda disappointed that Nicholas didn't fully confess? Don't be shy.

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