Dear Reader,
This chapter is not as good as I'd hoped, butI was more concerned with posting it than making it perfect. I hope it satisfies you.
-LunarLitLover
Preview for next time: Fatima/Yasmine and Ali with the new change affecting them. Not sure about the details at this point.
Recap: Admin and Ayska, Ali's neighbors and F/Y's and Ali's good friends are throwing a rebellious party, where many laws are broken. Fatima realized she has some feelings for Ali.
Chapter 11: Ali al Din
Dancing, Daring and Darkness
All different fabrics in all different colors swirled around me as I entered Admin and Ayska's home. The vibrant coloring was so extremely unusual that I paused for a moment. All the women wore bright colors and intricate patterns; this type of expressive clothing was forbidden for women outside of their own private homes. That rule wasn't stopping them now, though.
The movement and whirl of these colors was due to the dancing. Heterosexual dancing was also forbidden, and yet here it was going on in my best friends' home.
I myself had to dance around the moving couples in order to make my way over to Admin and Ayska who were greeting guests on the opposite side of the room. Both hosts greeted me enthusiastically and I complimented their courage to throw a party such as this.
"Well, we are not conforming people, Ali," Admin replied to my comment. "As you know, Ayska and I live together even though we aren't wed. We are not about to change what we do because of rules or social customs. If we want to have a party with beautiful clothes and dancing, then, by all means, that's what we will do."
"I understand, Admin," I nodded. "But your bravery still applies for a compliment."
"Thank you, Ali, but I wouldn't exactly call it bravery-" Ayska began to say, but I didn't hear the rest of her comment.
At that moment, Fatima entered the room.
She looked stunning, like a Bedouin beauty. She wore the style of the desert tribe and her eyes were painted accordingly. They were pronounced with a rich kohl but the rest of her face shined with natural radiance from the sun. She wore a stiff gold and purple throat and mouth covering – I don't know what they're called, or anything about women's clothing for that matter. But the covering had two rows of stripes that were pointed upward towards each other. Fatima also wore a sheer head covering of the same deep purple with woven gold accents. Her robe matched the rest of the outfit; deep purple silk with gold edges and highlights. When she moved, it emphasized her curves perfectly. She was a wonder. A wonder that stopped me in my tracks.
Upon entering the room, Fatima made her way directly over to Ayska. Fatima did not see my stare until reaching our corner. Although half of her cheeks were covered, I could see her blush. She also looked down at the floor instead of meeting my eyes.
At this strange behavior of Fatima's, Admin and Ayska noticed my stare as well. All four of us were aware of it, even myself, but I was too captivated by the object of my stare to consider breaking it.
Slowly, Admin and Ayska moved to our left to speak to their friend from Western Europe and to give room to Fatima and me. We were left practically to ourselves.
Only then did Fatima meet my gaze. She tried to ignore my stare, but her cheeks still held a deep blush.
"Fatima, you look…" I looked her up and down, my eyes finally resting on her face. "You look like…like a…a desert flower. The most beautiful one I've ever seen."
"Thank you, Ali," she said, honestly honored by my flattery. "Ayska helped me with the outfit, although it was also inspired by my grandmother and mother. My mother's mother was a Bedouin woman until she married my grandfather. She told my mother many stories of that life, which my mother then passed on to me. My mother loved the stories. She always dreamed of visiting the tribe and learning their ways."
"I never knew that about your family, Fatima. Believe it or not, my mother was also a Bedouin until she married my father and moved to the city."
"Really?" Fatima asked me, delight sparkling in her eyes.
We talked for a while longer about the Bedouin customs and the tribes our family members were from. However, shortly after we had began to converse, I noticed many other pairs of eyes belonging to young men shifting in our direction. All of them were looking at the attractive Fatima. It was not long after that when I lost her to the foreigner, who asked her for the dance.
The rest of the party went by rather slowly for me. Fatima was occupied by many young men who kept asking for her to dance, who kept giving her drinks accompanied by flattery, and who kept conversing with her about a variety of subjects. Yet despite Fatima's being occupied with other men, I couldn't help but keep my eyes off of her. I would glance her direction every other moment, despite my determination not to. I caught her looking at me several times during the evening as well, although I had no idea if it was by chance that we caught each other's gaze or if there was a reason behind it.
I was a bit jealous of all the men who were taking up Fatima's time and attention, yet I didn't get the nerve or chance to ask her to dance myself until what Ayska told me was the last song of the night. Only then did I steal Fatima from the throng of admirers.
She was dancing with another young male when I cut in. Her partner looked unhappy, but I ignored him. "Fatima, may I have the last dance?" I asked, my eyes speaking directly to hers.
She did not avoid my gaze but used her eyes to indicate her willingness. Nonetheless, she also answered back with her voice, "You may."
We joined the group of moving couples. Facing each other, we moved forwards. I touched her hand, as was required by the dance, and felt electricity shoot through the soft, delicatepalm and into my body. We released each other but then turned to face each other once more. We weaved this way through the couples and back to each other over and over, the music becoming more faster each time through. Each time we also got closer together until not only are hands were touching but our bodies were connecting as well. When this occurred and reoccurred, it only lasted a few seconds. However, in those moments, I felt more alive and at home than I had in a long, long time. The enrgy in Fatima's eyes indicated that she was feeling the same way.
Once the party was over, I had expected Fatima to stay and socialize with Ayska for a while before returning home. However, when the song ended, she kept a hold on my hand. She led me out the door and into the dark, empty street, without ever stopping to grab her head coverings that she had removed during the dancing.
In the dark street, it was chilly and windy, and Fatima's dark locks blew around her face as she shivered. Yet she kept a hold on my hand and led me farther down the street, away from Admin and Ayska's house.
I had no idea where we were headed, but I eventually stopped Fatima and turned her towards me. I looked into her dark brown eyes and knew this was the time. I had to say what I needed to say. What I had needed to say for a long time.
"Fatima, you're beautiful. So beautiful. The most spectacular creature that Allah ever created. And not just in your looks. You are a beautiful person, and the only one I've ever felt this way about before. I'm not explaining this very well but-"
She silenced me by pressing a finger to my lips. Her eyes also stared into the depths of mine and I realized in that moment that she'd brought me out here to confess the same things I'd just said to her.
Understanding each other's feelings completely for the first time was liberating. There were no longer any boundaries. Therefore, I wasn't surprised when Fatima reached up and wrapped her arms around me. My gaze held hers and our souls connected in a dance, more firey than the one inside, through our eyes. I leaned my head towards her and our forheads touched. Then our noses connected as well. AfterI saw Fatima close her eyes,I followed suit. ThenI felt warm lips press against mine, for the first time in my life. Her lips were as soft and delicate as a ripe mango, yet i was more filled by their touch than by the consumption of a thousand mangos. I clung to her tigher; I never wanted to let her go.
We stayed there, in that small street, kissing under the cover of darkness.
