Chapter 21: 20

'Ready or not' - Bridgit Mendler

Unedited

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"Pass the butter," mumbled a sleepy voice to her left.

She turned to see Zakaria, well she thought it was him she couldn't be sure because there were way too many, slumped down in his chair a few seats to her left. She did so, clanging it loudly next to his ear on the table so he could get up. It was her second breakfast at her in laws and she was annoyed to see a bunch of zombies around the table.

Syra sipped on her tea, savouring the warmth. Yesterday Zayn & Syra took their sweet time to wake up, obviously, and stayed home. He gave her an in depth tour of his house, showed her where he hid piles of cash, and watched some movies together. Syra had been horrified when she found out Zayn had no interest in movies, so she decided she would introduce him to the Marvel series first. They had watched a few movies and had fallen asleep while watching Thor Ragnorak. The next morning they were up by ten, which was rather early for them and went to the park to chill. Now they back and were having breakfast. Zayn had gone to run some errands for Ammi, so she was left alone at the table with Zaina and his brothers scattered here and there. The rest of his family was still sleeping.

"Syra, we're all going ice skating today, so do you wanna join us?" asked Zaina.

Syra deliberated over this. The dull throb of pain between her legs had mostly dissipated after she had taken a warm ghusl before Fajr; when she went back to sleep and woke up again it had been just a light discomfort. Now she only felt it if moved too vigorously.

"Sure. I'll just ask Zayn to see if he has anything planned today," she answered.

When Zayn returned she had asked him about his plans and he said he had planned to go with them. So she quickly got ready, excited. She had done ice skating for a while but she had to stop once she begun college.

They all went together by the tube. The ring was located in Queens Way. There was also a bowling alley next to it. Syra had actually brought her ice skates with her as Zayn had told her to, so she didn't wear the hideous chunky blue ones they provided.

While everybody was still busy buckling up, she had ran ahead, well hobbled really, and into the arena. It was rather crowded today; it was Sunday. She walked over and stepped onto the ice, realising just how much she had missed gliding over the ice.

She sped up, following the clockwise circle some of the more experienced skaters were following. She moved in a steady, fast rhythm. She knew if she tried to practice any of her tricks she might crash into someone or people would deem her a show off.

She had skated about three rounds before Zayn and his siblings finally begun shuffling out. She watched Zayn as he moved slowly across the ice rink, weaving through the beginners. His technique was a bit rusty; but everyone was like that because no person did ice skating too often unless it was their sport. He'd get the hang of it after a bit, it was the same for her.

He came over to her but went to the side to stop himself. So he didn't know how to stop. She'd just show him.

"You looked so cool just gliding round and round. So many people were just looking at you in awe," Zayn told her, making her feel warm inside.

"I can't stop in these bloody things," Zayn complained.

"I'll teach you. So it depends on your speed. When it's just a soft glide, just drive your feet inwards, and you'll drift to a stop. If you are going fast or need to abruptly stop, place your weight back on your dominant leg and bring the other forward and tilt it, so the friction stops you. And also bend your legs, like go in a squat position. Try it,"

Syra spied a fast shape approaching the side and stepped back, just in time before Zakaria came and braced his arms on the wall. His wife followed after him, gracefully gliding over to him before scolding him. Syra was sure her name was Javairia. She turned to Syra,

"I'm so sorry - he's just so competitive,"

Syra laughed, knowing the feeling as Ilyas and Saleh always did the same thing whenever she used to be practicing. Zaina came too, wobbling a little as she came to the wall to stop herself.

"I can teach you guys to stop. And some little tricks," she offered.

And they continued, Syra coaching Zayn and his siblings through little tricks. A feeling of nostalgia entered her; once upon a time she was being coached and now she was the coach.

She hoped to one day teach her children.

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It was late at night. Syra was trying not to toss and turn incase she disturbed Zayn. She even tried going out to the balcony to calm her mind but all she got was a runny nose. Her feet felt itchy and hot, possibly from being stuck in those tight ice skates for hours. She sat up and went and sat on the edge of the bath, running cool water onto her feet. She still felt wide awake, so she decided to stay there for a bit.

"What on earth," came his voice from behind her.

Syra yelped and ended up slipping into the tub, soaking herself. Zayn stood snickering at the door.

"Go get me some clothes," Syra huffed.

"Hmmm, get it yourself," he said childishly.

"Zayn," she complained, exasperated.

"Syra," he mimicked before walking over to her.

Whas this mf gon do now? she thought, vexed.

He came inside the bath with her and helped her to stand up.

"Come, take your wet clothes off," he stated.

Syra's mouth hung open at his bluntness. She suddenly felt shy.

"If you're feeling shy, just remember I saw everything the other night and you weren't feeling so shy then -"

"Ugh shut up. The lights were off then -"

"I have amazing night vision. The only difference now is that you can see me too and see me watch you -"

"Your clothes aren't wet," she pointed out.

"Who on earth takes a shower with their clothes on?" Zayn responded, tilting his head to a side and cocking his eyebrow.

If Syra's face wasn't already red, she was sure it was now.

"We are taking a shower?" she inquired, incredulous.

"Isn't that what people do when they can't sleep? So they feel drowsy afterwards?" he said, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one swift motion.

The sight in front of her - damn, she felt blessed. Her eyes glanced at his wide shoulders, his collar bone, his chiselled abdomen, the Calvin Klein underwear peaking above his grey tracksuits. Her eyes quickly dropped down a little to see what had stretched her that time was no little joke. It was a big one. She glanced back up at him to see his mouth twitching, until she realised she had not replied to him,

"I've never heard of that actually," she muttered.

She turned around and pulled off her grey t shirt that was sticking to her. Next she pulled her trackies down and plopped both soaked garments outside the bathtub. Then she turned back to face him, who stood frozen, eyeing her. She simply raised her eyebrows.

"Come over here," he said, his voice hoarse.

So she did.

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Reaching over to the drawer next to her bed, she turned off the alarm blaring from her phone. She sat up gingerly, her body sore from last night. Last night. He hadn't held back at all, he had worshipped her body in the shower. And then on the sofa. Then the wall. Then had woken her up at almost three in the morning for another round. And literally destroyed her each time. It only hurt a little in the beginning in the shower and then all traces of pain had vanished.

She clutched the duvet to her person; her clothes were left in a soggy heap in the bathroom. Thank god before she had slept she had dropped a thin blanket on the side of her bed. She reached out for it and wrapped herself in it, before waddling around to Zayn's side of the bed to wake him up.

"Wake up, it's going to be Fajr time in an hour. We have to each take showers. Wake up, Zayn," she whispered loudly.

Zayn just groaned and turned over, covering his head with the pillow. Syra sighed and decided to be cruel and put her cold hands on him. He quickly turned around and grabbed her hands in his, rubbing them sleepily.

"Ya Allah, you're freezing," he murmured sleepily.

Syra just shook her head and clutched the blanket tighter around her. Zayn blinked as he tried to open his eyes then suddenly reached out and pulled Syra onto him, wrapping her under the covers, laughing as Syra squeaked.

"Zayn, no. We must get up and take individual showers," she stressed on that part.

"We have some time. And remember it's a Sunnah to take ghusl with your spouse. The Prophet did it," he reasoned.

While Syra admitted he had a point, she was too exhausted to take a shower with him, knowing what it would lead to. Besides she loved listening to his morning voice and he knew it. Syra could bet he loved the sound of his own voice.

"But Zayn you know you would end up-"

"Holy shît - you're wearing nothing underneath?!" he exclaimed.

Syra was hoping he wouldn't discover that.

"There's no point when I'm just gonna take a shower, so I thought I'd wake you up and hop in the shower," Syra explained, wriggling away from him.

He was not having it. He locked his arms tightly around her waist, securing her down. Syra wiggled about like her life depended on it.

"Syra stop - stop you don't know what you're doing," he rasped.

"You started it and - owwwwwww," she begun before hissing when Zayn moved her to his side.

The abrupt movement caused her thigh to jolt and send a wave of pain between her legs.

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, tell me where it hurts. Oh god, I'm so sorry," Zayn rambled, panicking as he removed the duvet and looked at her helplessly because she was wearing nothing underneath.

"Yeah, you just moved me too fast. I'm just sore," she said.

"Right," he said, not knowing how to react.

She just rolled her eyes, knowing his male pride shot up after hearing that but he was feeling bad about causing her pain. She rolled of the bed and waddled to her clothes to quickly grab a pair and head to the bathroom. Zayn leaned back against the pillows, now mostly awake, assessing her.

"You know I can see because of the bathroom light shining at you?" he remarked, smirking.

"Fuck you," deadpanned Syra, done with his bullshit.

"When and where?" he asked.

Syra just slammed the bathroom door, smiling as she heard his laughter behind the door. At least now she didn't have to pour water on him to get him up.

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"Syra Baji, come on, run faster!" taunted Anayah as she ran with Syra's phone. (Sister).

Syra had been messaging her friends in her room when Anayah had come running and snatched it from her. Syra could not run even if her life depended on it, and her family would notice. They weren't stupid. But they didn't need to know about whatever transpired between her and her husband, despite their age. But neither could Syra let Anayah take her phone - she had her private Snapchat account logged in currently and her brothers always went on her snap. And she saved her conversations in this one. Her and her siblings always went on each other's snap; it wasn't a big deal as any private convos disappeared. But Anayah always ran to one of her brothers rooms to avoid getting her ass whooped by Syra. So Syra ran.

Well more like limped hurriedly. She followed Anayah who ran into Ilyas' room. Just great. Syra knew he had some suspicions of her and Zayn. He didn't like Zayn. Saleh was too busy planning his wedding to care about Zayn.

"Syra why the fuck are you limping," growled Ilyas.

Fuck my life.

"We - ice skating. I failed one of my tricks cuz I haven't practiced for so long," she lied.

Ilyas' expression was unreadable. He just shook his head and snapped at Anayah to hand Syra's phone to her. Syra felt so relieved, she went and gave him a hug. She used to be very close to Ilyas before he distanced himself. She was aware he dabbled in some shit like Zayn, but she wish he would just come clean to her about it.

"Shabba khair, Yaasi Bhai," Syra said softly to him, using a nickname she hadn't used in ages. (Goodnight).

"Shabba khair, Sia," he replied, smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Syra went to bed, feeling troubled about Ilyas.

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Anybody else over here got strict parents?

They always say they trust me but their rules say otherwise. Like babes if this is ur version of trusting, I don't wanna know what's gona happen when u don't trust me. It just makes ur kids more rebellious. And I'm not a kid ffs.

2290 words.