The Silence That Spoke To Him

Crossing the courtyard, she scanned for him.

There he was.

Surrounded. Charming.

She stood there, trying to figure out what she should do when slowly she noticed his fingers tapping a girl's waist as he spoke, his body tilted just enough to suggest intimacy. The grin, the mock-shyness—it was all deliberate.

Her jaw tightened.

"So, this is the real Bilal — when he thinks no one's watching."

Her eyes missed nothing.

She turned her gaze away and pulled out her phone, pretending to check messages. "Hijab," Bilal called out with a teasing grin when he finally saw her. "Come join us. These ladies want to know how you manage to stay so... unaffected."

"I have classes," she said,tone flat.

"Always the academic." He shrugged, still smiling. "You should tell them how smart you are.

It might balance out all this beauty."

Hijab didn't reply, but she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

Maira.

"Maira approached with a gentle smile, clutching her notebook like a shield."

"Hijab," she said, "I was looking for you."

Hijab's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Hey. Just dealing with this nuisance."

Bilal turned toward Maira with curious interest. "And who's your friend?"

"Maira," she said before Hijab could answer. "And you must be Bilal."

"Well, Maira," he drawled, his voice dipping into a lazy warmth, "yes—I'm Bilal."

He reached out to shake her hand, his grip firm but deliberate, holding her fingers longer than necessary. His thumb brushed lightly across her knuckles before he let go, a faint smile playing at his lips.

"It's my first time here," he added smoothly, his eyes flicking briefly to Hijab, "and I'd say I'm lucky to have her as my tour guide"

Maira gave a polite smile but shifted slightly behind Hijab.

Hijab noticed —, not consciously — just enough to feel a tightness in her chest. She brushed it off and turned to him.

"Let's get this over with."

He raised an eyebrow. "The tour?"

"Unfortunately."

Bilal said goodbye with a flirty ease that made Maira shift, clearly uncomfortable.

They began walking across the campus. Bilal slid his hands back into his pockets, still smiling to himself.

"You're not much of a people person, are you?"

Hijab glanced at him. "I am. Just not a fan of crowds that worship without thinking."

He chuckled. "Are you talking about them… or me?"

"I'll let you figure that out."

They walked on, the crowd fading behind them — but Hijab couldn't shake the feeling that something about this day had just shifted.

The driver pulled up in front of Bilal's house first. As Bilal stepped out, Hijab kept her eyes fixed on her lap, unwilling to engage in even a passing glance. Bilal felt offended, like her reaction bruised his ego, she heard the car door shut softly behind him, and only then did she lift her head slightly, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

The ride to her home felt quieter, calmer. The weight in her chest began to ease, though traces of tension still lingered in her stiff fingers.

When the car finally stopped outside her house, the familiar sight of the gate and the low hum of evening life in her street wrapped around her like a soft blanket. Hijab gathered her bag and stepped out. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and warm earth after a hot day.

Inside, her parents were in the living room. Her father sat with a newspaper, her mother arranging cups on a tray.

"You look tired," her mother observed gently.

Hijab offered a small nod, forcing a light smile. "It was a long day."

"Well, go freshen up. I'll bring tea to your room," her mother said.

As Hijab walked to her room, she felt the tension in her shoulders finally loosen.

The quietness of her room settled over her like a blanket, but it didn't silence the questions crowding her mind.

She changed into her home clothes and sat by the window, watching the last streaks of sunlight fade behind the rooftops. A breeze stirred the curtains. Somewhere far off, a dog barked, and someone laughed. Life was going on — as if nothing had shifted.

But something had.

Hijab exhaled slowly, her fingers still tense in her lap. She couldn't stop replaying the way Maira had stepped behind her… the way Bilal had looked at her.

Something about that moment wouldn't let go.

Her phone buzzed. A message.

From him.

Her thumb hovered over the screen.

She didn't open it. Not yet.

But already, she knew —

Tomorrow wouldn't be quiet