"You can glare all you want, but tell me Ahad..... do you even realize what you have before someone else takes her away?" Haffiz whispered, before getting out of the room Dammit, Hafiz.
I will take care of it later. Right now, I had important stuff to deal with. Why the hell had Iman let Hafiz stay in her room till this late at night?
Heck, Iman.
Iman's room felt suffocating now. The door had barely shut behind him, yet Iman stood frozen, jaw clenched.
My blood was boiling at Hafiz's being able to make Iman laugh or, smile or, even having a conversation with her. My eyes locked into Iman's, like she had committed an unpardonable crime. I didn't care about a crime. She letting him stay near her was enough for her to stay here, until I interogated her.
I took a step closer to her. She was still on her bed, her dress covering her knees.
"It's late." My voice was sharper, stripped of its usual teasing edge.
Iman, oblivious-or pretending to be-simply raised a brow. "And?"
I leaned forward, closing the space between us. Our breaths mingled. Her pores and flawed skin were so close that if I weren't pissed at Hafiz, I would have wrapped her raven-slick hair around my wrist-until she had no nerve left to let Hafiz or any other boy come even an inch closer to her.
"And you let him stay this late in your room?" My words were controlled but barely.
Iman folded her arms. "Hafiz is a friend. And my neighbor, Ahad."
"Friend." I let out a bitter chuckle, shaking my head. "Do you always let your friends linger around till midnight?"
She narrowed her eyes. "You're being ridiculous."
Iman stood up and went to her dresser, organizing her hair clips as if my presence didn't weigh down on her. I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair.
God, why is she so stubborn?
"No, Iman." My tone softened, like trying to convince a child not to cry over a broken toy. "What's ridiculous is you not seeing how he looks at you, how he-" I stopped myself. My fists tightened.
The thought of Hafiz standing close, speaking in that low voice, whispering things he had no right to, made my blood boil. I wanted to say more to demand an answer, to tell her she should have pushed Hafiz out the second the sun had set. But instead, all I managed was a dark, chipped warning.
"Next time, I won't be polite."
I swear, Iman had a talent for making my blood pressure hit dangerous levels. She tilted her head, eyes glinting under the moonlight, the curve of her lips sharp with amusement.
"Polite?" she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. Then she scoffed. "What exactly do you call polite, Ahad? Barging into my room like you own the place? Questioning me like I owe you an explanation?"
I took another step forward, heat rolling off me in waves. "Maybe I wouldn't have to if you stopped acting like you don't see it."
She arched a brow. "See what?"
I let out a dry chuckle, shaking my head. "Don't play dumb Iman, you know exactly what I'm talking about." My voice was rough, edged with something I wasn't ready to name. "Hafiz. His whispers, his little smirks, the way he -" I stopped myself before my fists went through the nearest surface. "And you let him stay. Late. In your room."
Her jaw tightened, eyes flashing with defiance. "And what's it to you?"
That did it. That one damn sentence.
"What's it to me?" I echoed, my voice dropping to a dangerously low register. She took a step closer. Mistake number one. Unbothered by the storm brewing in my chest.
"Yes, Ahad. What's it to you? Are you my father? My brother? No. Then why the hell do you think you get a say in who I let in my room?"
I laughed-sharp, humorless. "You really think it's about that? About some damn room?"
Her glare stayed locked onto mine, lips parting, ready to fire back. But I wasn't finished.
"It's about the way he looks at you. It's about the way he speaks to you, like he has some right to you. And you-"I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "You. let him in."
Her expression flickered-just for a second. A hesitation. A small, almost imperceptible shift. But I caught it. And that was enough to make my chest tighten.
She wanted to argue. Wanted to snap back with something equally cutting. But this time, she didn't.
For the first time tonight, silence settled between us.
But damn it, silence had never felt so loud.