He paced around the counter, wary of my disobedience. He obviously knew I was going to break the rules and sneak out of the house. Fadil couldn’t think of another way to stop me. I was loving this; the holy son was trying to prevent the careless niece from having fun. “Fadil, you know nothing’s going to prevent me from seeing Ahmad, right?” That did it. He reached up to me at the edge of the counter and faced me with an angry glare.

“Aqila!” He yelled. “my mother is ill. I don’t know what she was thinking, taking you in in the first place. Is this how you want to repay her?!” Surely, he was pissed. I actually felt bad about treating my aunt that way, attempting to worry her. But seeing Fadil act so over protective of me made me want to do more crazy things, and so I slyly said,

“No, Fadil. You’re boiling inside, you don’t want me to go simply because you loathe Ahmad. Sure you’ve got the brains, but he’s got everything. The looks, the personality, charisma, as well as the brains. And maybe...” I placed my index finger on the side of his face, and traced his forehead till his jaws. He suddenly cooled down. He wasn’t angry anymore. He was scared. Nervous, maybe. When last did this innocent young man feel a woman’s touch? Had he ever been touched by a female, apart from his mother? Regardless, I caressed his lips with my thumb. He was frozen in his posture, just as I slid down the counter and placed one hand on the nape of his neck, past all that brown curly hair that smelled like the cinnamon shampoo on the bathroom shelf, and pulled him closer. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were completely focused on me. I entranced him! I set my right hand, which was on his pale pink yet soft lips on the side of his ear, partially covering the side of his face.

At this point I began to feel my heart skip a couple beats. I felt hot all over, and for a second or so I felt a little sensitive about what I was doing. That’s strange, I thought to myself, I never felt that way before. I ignored the feeling and focused on Fadil, not losing eye contact.

“Aqila... you shouldn’t.” He managed to stutter.

“Shh,” I whispered, “it’s only a kiss. Nothing more.” I tip toed a bit to reach up to his face and placed my lip onto his. I might have only wanted to play with the poor boys mind when I was sitting on the counter. However now that I was practically attached on his body, my mind had different intentions. At first when I kissed him, he didn’t respond. A few seconds later, he took me by the waist, pulled me even closer to him and kissed me back. He was not aggressive, like all the other boys I had ever kissed. His was warm, and slow. I did not want him to let go of me. The funny part was the calculated boy wasn’t ...