Kaduna State, Nigeria.

Abdullah was shell shocked inside the car wondering what the hell happened. His mind must be playing tricks on him. She was definitely trying to search for something and not kiss his cheek.

Then her next words blew up but her expression the next second made him a bit amused. He has been anxious about this meeting because a huge deal is at stake and they have just a forty percent chance of getting it.

Life had been about constant vigilance, about making sure everything stayed on track, about avoiding the pitfalls that could take it all away. There was never a time he wasn't wound tight.

But something about this little stranger that he felt familiar with even though he doesn't know her name makes him amused. Hardly anything could make his nerves settle when a business is looming but her expression? Wild.

Here he was, grappling with the absurdity of the situation. This girl –this wild, unpredictable stranger– had somehow slipped under his skin.

It seems like every time he meets her a side of him that he didn't know existed just emerged for a split second before it shuttered. Like a phantom he didn't know existed. And right now he is fighting a very much amused smile but couldn't.

His facial muscles felt strained because they haven't worked naturally in a long time. Work does that to you and worrying constantly that everything might be taken away and you will be back to square one.

She had exited the car, rushing toward her house without a backward glance, clearly pleased with herself, or maybe just glad to escape. He watched her retreat, still caught somewhere between bewilderment and a strange, reluctant amusement.

His fingers flexed on the wheel as he finally allowed himself a brief, almost imperceptible grin. Maybe he'd remember her after all, but not for the reason she might have hoped.

He watched the door to her home waiting to see if she would come out and get her stuff from his boot but she didn't for the next twenty minutes and he is going to be late if he sits there for more than another ten minutes.

Abdullah got out of the car when he saw a young boy of around fifteen years walking past. He called the boy who eyed him and his car with reluctance but went anyway. Clearly everyone is cautious these days but that Whirlwind.

"Can you enter this house?" Abdullah asked, pointing at the rusty brown metal door at his back.

"Yes." The boy answered, still looking skeptical but his eyes were mostly on the vehicle Abdullah was leaning on.

"Good." Abdullah opened his boot and brought out the three leathers.

There is this distinct smell of the fish very strong and might not leave his car boot for many days if he doesn't have it washed. He is not a fan of fish and right now he is already nauseous.

"Who should I take it to?" The boy asked when Abdullah passed him the leathers.

"Uh, I don't know her." Then he realized that the house is most likely for rent. "How many people are in the house?"

"Four."

"Hmm. I don't know her name but she is young. Maybe a bit older than you are." Abdullah tried to explain with a deep frown of concentration.

That Whirlwind doesn't look older than seventeen or highest eighteen. Very much a child. With the childish antics she just displayed minutes ago, she might even be younger. Still in her prime.

He cannot even describe her facial features because he doesn't know where to start placing the color of her eyes, her skin or even her height. She was just... young and unpredictable and incredibly heavy on self destruction it seems.

"There are so many people in the house. But I will go and check with Maman Siyama first." Said the boy and he made his way inside.

Abdullah waited for him to make sure the stuff was delivered. When the boy came out, he told him it was indeed for Maman Siyama. Abdullah gave him five thousand notes and left.

Is her name Siyama? Oddly she doesn't look like a Siyama. Then again what does he know about names to judge someone with?

The drive to the branch was filled with anxiety, all thoughts of the Whirlwind he encountered gone as he started rehearsing his presentation for this offer. This is the last meeting the company wishes to have with them.

Anas is also coming because this is a huge deal and his honeymoon break is over. With that forty percent chance they have, they need to get this. It will be a milestone for them.

He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, and his mind raced with the words he'd need to say, the points he'd need to hit, and the confidence he'd need to muster to pull this off.

They were running on fumes –this was their last chance to convince the hotelier to let their firm handle the redesign.

Abdullah glanced at Anas, who sat beside him, tapping his fingers against his knee in a nervous rhythm. Anas was finally back from his honeymoon break, his face still carrying that glow of newlywed bliss, but there was no mistaking the intensity in his eyes today.

This was too important to joke about, even for Anas, who often found a way to lighten the mood. Today, he was quiet, almost solemn, his mind undoubtedly running through the same maze of thoughts and worries.

The foreign hotelier and his advisors walked into the room a few minutes later. Anas and Abdullah stood up to greet them then the meeting started. Abdullah presented first before Anas smoothly completed it.

They work like a pair, perfect and in sync.

The Russian hotelier was hard to read but his advisors? Harder. Abdullah gave up trying to see whether they had hope or not and just went with the flow. Everything is in Allah's hands after all.

"I won't lie," The hotelier began in a thick Russian accent, "we've had some impressive proposals, and your chances aren't looking the best right now. But I must admit, you've presented a compelling case. Now, tell me, what makes your firm stand out? What guarantees can you give me that you'll deliver on this vision you've painted?"

Abdullah felt a flicker of hope. This was their moment to drive it home, to prove that they were the right choice. He leaned forward, meeting the hotelier's gaze head-on, and began to speak again, his voice steady, his resolve firm.

By the end of the meeting, Abdullah and Anas's company got the contract.

***

"Toh... ina kuma chefanan? (Now where is the grocery?)" Maa asked as she walked out of the bathroom.

Yasmin jumped from the wall as she leaned on it contemplating what to do with her life. She felt like she had committed the biggest sin in the entire world. Not to talk about how she embarrassed herself.

AGAIN.

Why couldn't she just act like a normal girl around her crush? You know, batting their eyelashes like they're auditioning for a mascara commercial. Nope. She had to come in like a bulldozer in a china shop, wrecking her chances before she even got started.

Now who would think she is a well mannered girl after what she did? He would think she goes around doing the same thing to other men out there when in reality she hasn't even realized what she had done.

It was this stupid part of her stupid frontal lobe that wouldn't cooperate with her cerebellum. It wasn't her fault. It really wasn't! She never planned on doing that and she is appalled.

How did she even think to kiss someone? Small girl like her?

She rubbed her lips with the edge of her hijab so aggressively that her mother looked at her like she'd just lost her mind. Now, her lips were red and a bit swollen, as if she'd been in a losing fight with a hot pepper.

"Baby, are you alright?" Maa asked when Yasmin wouldn't stop abusing her lips. She is now worried.

"No. I just need to go and pray." She stomped her feet and stood straighter then remembered her stuff outside in his car boot.

"It's not time for zuhr yet. What prayer are you talking about?" Maa asked with a raised brow.

She shouldn't be worried when it comes to Yasmin because she has always been weird and unpredictable but she always is. This is her baby girl. They always look out for one another.

"I'm doing walha (salat al-duha)." She answered absentmindedly even though she cannot remember the last time she did.

She just felt like she needed to cleanse herself after what she did. It is so absurd.

"Uhm. Religious Yasmin is back, Masha Allah." Her mother teased because it is an inside joke.

She used to say that there are times when she feels invincible because of how prayerful and connected she feels to Allah and then there are times when she deflects. Her mother told her it was normal.

Iman tends to fluctuate sometimes but it is the way you react to it that matters.

"Hahahaha." She said dryly but her thoughts were outside.

She doesn't want her mother to ask about the stuff again because that would mean she will have to tell her about the lift she hitched and how stupid she... ugh, she cannot even think about it without grimacing.

Should she go outside?

How on earth is she going to face him?

Will he be outside if he got pissed and left?

Just when she was about to throw herself into the well in the middle of their compound, a taslim was heard from the door. Her head whipped to the source of the voice and she breathed in relief.

Sabi'u is their neighbor and she used to iron clothes in their house. When he saw her, she gave him a signal with her eyes which he quickly grasped. She could call him her friend even though he was three years younger than she is.

He likes accompanying her to places when he sees her walking all alone in the area. She also sends him on many errands if she doesn't feel like going then she dodge in their house.

Now he walked in and greeted her mother as usual. He dragged the greeting so Maa didn't even question why he had their grocery and not Yasmin. He dropped them and left.

"Bring the rest inside and perform ablution. I'll wait for you so we can pray together." Maa said as she entered with some of the leathers.

"Okay!" Yasmin squeaked, performed ablution and entered their room.

She is so going to pray this and also pray later in the night for tahajjud (night prayer) because she feels like the most loved by Allah right now. He has saved her in many ways even though she had just sinned.

In her sujud, she whispered fervently, "Allah, forgive my sins, pleaseee..."

She paused, then burst into her rant in her mind, "Ya Allah, I swear I love him, wallahi! I don't even know what love is supposed to feel like, but he makes my heart race like I'm running a marathon."

"He makes my soul so restless it's like I drank five cups of coffee. And then somehow, he also makes me feel... calm?!" She sighed dramatically, "Is that how love is supposed to feel? Humph... he is definitely the one."

"I'm not choosing, Ya Mujeeb. I want you to choose for me because your choice is always the best but he is like the only man I have ever not lowered my eyes from. Like he is so magnetic. He is like the name I gave him. Whisperwind. Gentle and soft yet very mysterious."

"Ya Rahman, make him love me more than himself..." then she rose with a lightened heart.

Was playing "Don't Blame Me" by Taylor Swift when I wrote the last chapter so I played it again to see if I will write another wild thing today🤣 didn't go wild because you guys are already shocked from yesterday. I enjoyed this chapter a lottttt🤣 Yasmin is quickly becoming my favorite character.

Who is worst? Yasmin or Falak?

I think we should go back to Siyama and her egotistical footballer. Or are you not tired of The Winds?

Whisperwind and Whirlwind? Huh??????????!!!!!!Hmmmmmm.🌚

QOTD: Explore space or explore the ocean? What will I do in the ocean?🤣 meet dolphins and dine with shark? I'll take space.