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*Chapter Twelve*

" Hana Pov "

"Doll go get ready. They will be here soon," my mother told me while she was rummaging in my drawer for a matching earrings, which corresponds to my dress.

I just ignored my mother and deliberated about the whole 'meeting' situation.

"Doll?" My mother's voice snapped me out my trance, and I looked at my mother. A worried mien was placed on my mother's gentle face.

Hurriedly, I shook my head and said: "Mother, I'm fine." With a sigh, I clutched my dress and went straight to the changing room.

While I was still thinking about the guy, whom I was going to marry, I changed into my pink dress.

I just stared at myself on the mirror. I wasn't looking bad, but shouldn't I look bad, so the guy won't like me? While I was still contemplating about changing this dress, I came outside. My mother was sitting on my bed. When she saw me, she gasped and complimented awestruck, "Doll, Masha Allah! You look beautiful."

I smiled at her and embraced her tightly. Noticing my taut hold on her, she asked me in concerned tone, "Is everything fine Doll?"

"Yeah, it is," I confirmed lying to my mother.

With a nod, she left me in my room.

I, considering about what would happen, and how he would look like, sat on my bed. All of a sudden, I heard a knock on my room. I stood up. My mother approached me while apprising me, "They are here." I nodded reluctantly.

"Perhaps, if you're not feeling comfortable about this, we can try to resolve this problem."

For a moment, I thought about this and gestured to my mother to sit beside me on bed.

Her eyes moved momentarily away from me, and she sat beside me while looking solicitously at me.

I wagged my fingers and said, "Can I meet him alone?"

My mother said, "Of course, you can."

As I nodded, my mother gave me an assuring smile, "Don't worry." With that, my mother left the room, again.

Nervousness built up in my body, as I stood up from my bed and started pacing around in my room.

This time, I perceived a loud knock on my door which frightened me, and I anxiously looked at the intruder.

My room's door was thrown wide open, and a young man was standing there. He was wearing a black suit with a black tie. While I was inspecting him, I thought nervously, "He was some kind of man that belongs to the squad in Men in Black, which I was going to watch."

He ignored my disgusted expression and moved his head. I looked at him with my eyebrows furrowed. "What was he trying to say?"

He cleared his throat and posed a question, "Should I close the door?"

My eyes went broad with uneasiness, and I said hastened, "No."

He stared at my face, for a while, and then shrugged his shoulder. He left the door open without giving it another thought, and, now, he was nearing me. Leisurely, I started moving backwards. He raised his eyebrows in confusion, and I smiled edgily.

He shook his head. "Your mother told me that you wanted to talk alone."

Yes, I had wanted to talk alone, but seeing the way I was acting right now made me double check my sanity.

"Of course," I replied immediately and motioned him to sit on the chair. He looked from me to the chair and sat uncomfortably. I sighed, and he looked at me with a very strange look.

Okay, that's plain quirky.

There was a silence. I didn't dare to say anything. I raised my head and gazed at him. He was staring at something.

A confused look was plastered on my face, and I looked at the place where he was concentrating on.

I was astonished to see he was looking at my mirror. My reflection was clear on the mirror, and he was staring at it with a wide smile.

A blush crept on my face, and my eyes fell on my flexed hands, which was settled on my lap.

His gaze held something which made me blush and tense at the same time.

I stammered while asking, "Wuh-what's y-your name?"

"Danish." I nodded while he set his elbows on his knees, embraced his palms, and inquired, "What's yours?"

"You don't know my name?" I asked him in incredulous tone. He shook his head, "No, I don't." I was going to say something when he said, "Yesterday, my mother told me that I have to meet you, so here I am."

I was beyond amazed. He was still quiet. I looked at his face to see him in a deep thought.

I wanted to ask him why did he agree about this. Unanticipated, he raised his head, and I looked down instantly. I didn't want him to look peculiar. With a sigh, he asked, "I think my parents knows what's better for me that's the reason if you're thinking."

I was stunned for a moment. He knew what I was thinking.

"My name is Hanna," I told him interrupting the eerie silence.

With a soft smiling grazing his face, he heaped a praise on me, "Lovely name just like you."

Averting my head somewhere else diffident, My cheeks reddened, reaching the tonality of strawberry.

I composed myself and asked shyly, "So, what do you do for living?"

"I'm handling my father's business. What about you?"

"I'm becoming a microbiologist."

"That's great!"

A light of curiosity spiked in my heart. I agitated looked at him and asked him, "Can I study further?"

He raised his eyebrow quizzically. For a second, he frowned; nevertheless, I explained my question furthermore, "After marriage."

To my pleasure, he hadn't looked startled by my question and responded, "If you want to."

A sigh of relief was released from my mouth and, with a grateful smile, I replied: "Thank you."

He shook his head, and said, "I know that you're marrying me because your parents want that to happen. Trust me, I'm doing this also for my parents."

I nodded and stood up. He looked surprised by that. Seeing him like that, a foolish smile tumbled on my lips.

Now, I noticed him clearly; he was not bad looking guy: his beard was enhancing his masculine structure. I blushed with the notions, "We should go."

He smiled in return and stood up. He was tall. I just noticed it when he was stood beside me.

I gazed him merely before walking out the room to the living room where our parents were sitting at. I sat beside my mother. She was looking at me with huge grin on her face which made my face flush.

I greeted, "Assalamu alaikum aunty and uncle."

They both gave me humble prayers. Consequently, Aunty praised me, "Beti, you look beautiful, masha Allah!"

At this time, I couldn't control myself. I could feel my face getting warmer. I know for sure that I was looking as bright red tomato right now. I took a peek at Danish to see him with wide smile on his face, and when he turned and saw that I was looking at him, he turned away sheepishly.

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