Iman's lips parted, and for a moment, she just stared at me -like I had said something so absurd, so unthinkable, that she couldn't even process it. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and headed for the door.
No.
I caught her wrist before she could leave, my grip firm but careful. "Iman, wait." My voice was lower now, the fire from before dimmed with something else-something I couldn't even name.
She stiffened but didn't turn to face me. "Let go, Ahad."
I swallowed, my own confusion pressing down on me. "I didn't mean I just-" I exhaled sharply. What the hell was wrong with me? What was this ridiculous jealousy clawing at my chest? Hafiz was just her neighbor, her friend. So why did the thought of him being in her room make my blood boil?
Iman tugged at her hand, but I didn't let go. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, " I admitted, my voice quieter. "But... you have to understand, I'm not used to -to-"
"To what, Ahad?" She turned, looking up at me, her eyes guarded. "To me having my own friends in my room? Or is it just Hafiz?".
Heck. How had I gotten myself into this situation? I rubbed a hand over my face. Was it just Hafiz coming near her that freaked me out? Or was it the thought of any boy getting an inch closer to her?
Something in my chest tightened. I sighed. "You know what? Forget it. I'm too tired for this."
"Good, now let me go."
I hesitated for a moment before releasing her wrist. She huffled and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're so annoying, Mr. Shah."
I smirked. "Took you this long to notice?"
"Oh, I noticed. I just thought maybe you had grown up eventually."
"I have grown up. I am mature."
I took a step toward her, my hands clasped behind my back, leaning forward to match her height. Iman barely reached above my elbow, and honestly, I loved her short height. Our eyes locked.
"Mature people don't throw tantrums over their friends having other friends."
She scoffed, brushing past me and settling on the bed. I was still bent slightly, adjusting to her level. As I straightened and turned to face her, a small smile tugged at my lips.
She still had that childish look.Iman hated being called childish, but in reality, only a few people could see that side of her. She only showed it to those she was comfortable with, those she-loved.
Like Ahm... me.
"It wasn't a tantrum, that was a strong opinion."
"A strong opinion?" she echoed. "You practically could've set the room on fire with your sulking, man."
I chuckled, shoving my hands into my pockets. My gaze lingered for a second more on the beautiful view in front of me before I finally said, "Alright, fine, maybe I overreacted. But in my defense, Hafiz does have that creepy smile."
"What? He does not!"
"Are you kidding me? He smiles like a villain revealing his master plan-except Hafiz looks like he forgot the plan halfway through."
She turned fully to face me, still frowning, but I caught the slight twitch at the corner of her lips.
"You are ridiculous," she said.
"And you're still here, arguing with me," I pointed out, my voice softening.
She groaned dramatically. "Because you won't let me leave."
She was right. I wouldn't let her leave. Not me.
"Not my fault you're so fun to argue with." That was the truth. I loved irritating her, watching her frown, seeing her childish side slip through. It was worth every second. Some girls acted childish, but Iman had been born with this side. Even strangers could tell the difference between Iman's God-gifted innocence and other girls' forced playfulness.
And damn it, I loved this side of her.
"Oh my God, I need new friends," she snapped.
"No, you don't. I'm enough entertainment for you." And I meant it. She belonged with me. She had no right to be with others.
She rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath. I grinned, watching her face shift from irritation to amusement-despite herself.
"See?" I leaned against the dresser, smiling. "Admit it, you like our fights."
"I tolerate them," she corrected without missing a beat.
"That's basically love in disguise."
"Ahad, I swear-"
"You'll what?" I pushed off the dresser and stepped toward her. "Complain to Hafiz?" I smirked. "Oh wait, he's gone. Guess you're stuck with me."
She grabbed a pillow and hurled it at my face. I caught it mid-air, laughing. Her glare softened, and I knew-despite all her words-she wasn't really mad anymore.
And just like that, I forgot why we were even fighting in the first place.