Beneath Guarded Hearts - 69

 Previously…

Asma

He finally surrendered, parting my lips as he conquered them with complete control. I felt an immediate change in the way he touched me. My lips curved into a smile of triumph beneath his dominating lips. He wasn't just soothing me anymore.

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Asma

He lowered me to the bed slowly, and I felt chills of excitement. He stroked my hair, whispered endearments into my ears as I felt his hot breath, and I clung on to him tighter and I kissed him eagerly. He was taken aback by my boldness, yet he responded with equal yearning. How I loved the taste of him. How I absolutely loved my 3bady.

3bdulla

Her eagerness banished any sense of reason I had left. We were engrossed in pure passion, no fears, and no regrets. I had never thought that each and every time would be different in a beautiful, enlightening way. I just couldn't get enough of her. She was so addicting, so beautiful in ways she could never see. Not the way I did, at least. But tonight, I saw a completely different side to Asma. We’ve been through so much since the day she summed up the courage and decided to look up into my face, and our eyes met, really met, for the first time. She was so innocent back then, so shy as she forced herself to look at me when I bumped into her. How much we had changed since then, especially after we got married. Especially Asma. She wasn’t holding back anymore. It was like she had been waiting for me her whole life, and I would give her everything and more. 7abeebti Asma, wayed a7bha!

As she dropped next to me and sleep started to creep up on her, I traced the gradual curl of a strand of her hair that fell over her face, and I brushed it back gently. She lay in my arms, her eyes half closed as she breathed against my chest. I was drained myself, but watching her sleep was far too pleasing, too tempting to resist. I wanted to kiss her awake, but her cute, snoozing little face left me motionless, not daring to make a sound that could cause her to wake up. I pulled up the bed sheets over her exposed shoulders and gave her a light kiss on her forehead. I lay my head over the pillow, my arm tucked under it as I stared into the ceiling, drowned into my peaceful thoughts. I glanced at Asma’s sleeping face and smiled.

Me: “Amoot feech asoomty…”

            I whispered the silent words into the air between us as I closed my eyes, falling into a dreamless slumber.

Sul6an

            I came home still expecting to see Asma there, to hear her murmur questions about my day that I didn’t feel like answering, forgetting that she now lived with 3bdulla. I sighed. The house felt so empty without her vibrant spirit dancing everywhere, singing to the still air. I wonder lo bdat et3’any around 3bdulla. Hehe, akeed bati7shireh 3gb mudh. Ya3ni seriously, hal bnaya wayed t3’ani! But still. She might have been irritating at times, but she was, and still is, the best sister I could ever ask for. Who, I thought as I made my way up the stairs, deserved much more than just adding ‘precautions’ on baba’s part.

            I knocked twice on his office door. He bade me to enter with his stony voice. He was always so formal with me, when with Asma he was more funny and easy-going. I think it’s because he thinks I’m irresponsible and that because of it, he has to take me seriously. My father and me never got along anyway, but to be so cold about Asma’s situation? I would normally do anything to avoid getting into an argument with baba, because I didn’t want my temper to rise around him. He was my father after all, and I could never forgive myself if I raised my voice over him. I had so much respect for him, but right now, that respect was slowly fading away. How could he just sit there and do nothing when Asma was going through hell?

Baba: “Ohh Sul6an, tfa9’al.”

            I moved towards his desk and slouched into a chair in front of him, betraying my purpose of coming to him. But my father wasn’t a fool.

Baba: “Gabl la tibda, la tinsa iny obook w oboo e5tek. Ana ely a3rf sho he ma9la7atkm.”

Sul6an: “Ya3ni yom 5alait el 7a8eer ahmad y5aleeha 3indeh yom inteh knt troom tgoom w tridha el bait w tit5ala9 mn el salfa, ha kan 7ag ma9la7at-ha?”

            My voice was petrifyingly calm.

Baba: “7asib. Inteh mat3arf ay shay 3an el salfa. W kilh ele estwaa fel a9il 3shanik inteh.”

            I blinked in confusion.

Me: “Sho?”

            He sighed.

Baba: “Bat3rf yom el wagt bayee. 7ag a7eena, latfaker feeha. A7eena gooly, kaif bnt ahmad?”

            My body tensed in resentment at the mention of her.

Me: “Baba, ALLAH y5aleek, lat5aleeni abda weyaha.”

            He raised a brow at me.

Baba: “Ma 3eybatk?”

            I looked at him skeptically. He knew way more than he was letting on. But he’d deny everything and tell me that I was accusing him of lying or something if I asked him about it. I sighed.

Me: “La2. A7eena 3an ele estwa eb Asma-”

Baba: “Bass. La tirmis 3an salfat Asma, mada5alk fel mo6’oo3. Rayyi7 balik w insa 3an ele stwaa.”

            He gave me a very serious, dismissing look, and went back to his papers. I clenched my fists and abruptly left the room. I headed to our indoor gym, put on my boxing gloves, and punched the dummy until it looked deformed.

Me: “She is okay…”

I hissed out my thoughts as I rested my whole body weight on my arm muscles, my elbows crushed to the floor, my head bent low, my breathing heavy.

Me: “That’s all that matters. For now.”

To be continued…