The Untainted
Chapter Five
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Rihannat pushed open the door to her small apartment and inhaled deeply.
Home.
The quiet wrapped around her like a familiar shawl. She dropped her bag neatly on the table and headed straight to the kitchen. She was famished — the kind of hunger that made her stomach growl in protest.
She warmed the remaining food from earlier, sat down cross-legged on the small rug, and ate peacefully. No television. No noise. Just her thoughts and the soft ticking of the wall clock.
After eating, she rinsed her plate immediately — no dishes left behind — and wiped the sink dry. Order restored.
Then she picked up her phone and called her parents, as she did every night without fail. They spoke briefly about her classes, her health, and the usual gentle reminder from her mother about "considering her future."
She smiled through it.
She knew what that meant.
After ending the call, she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at it.
Basit.
She hesitated for a second before picking up.
"Good evening… friend," his voice came through softly.
She rolled her eyes, though he couldn't see it.
"Good evening."
And somehow, that simple exchange lingered longer than expected.
***********
Meanwhile, Basit had just returned home.
As he approached his apartment door, he saw a familiar figure leaning against the wall with folded arms.
Ridwan.
"Basit!" Ridwan straightened up. "I've been calling you. Eight times. Eight! What happened? You didn't see your phone?"
Basit blinked. "Subhanallah… I'm sorry. I didn't even notice."
Ridwan narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"What are you thinking about that made you miss eight calls? And why are you smiling like someone who just won a lottery? Did the bike man hit your head somewhere? You're acting strange."
Basit tried to suppress his grin. "It's nothing. Just… nothing."
Ridwan stepped closer dramatically. "This vibe you're giving me is putting me on edge. You will tell me what is going on. You know I won't stop until I get my answer."
Basit sighed. "Fine. Come inside before you embarrass both of us outside."
He unlocked his door and dragged his overly curious friend in.
They settled on the couch.
"So?" Ridwan leaned forward.
Basit narrated everything — the number exchange, her warnings, her seriousness, her boundaries.
Ridwan listened carefully, eyes widening gradually.
"Wait," he interrupted. "Are we talking about the same girl you mentioned two years ago?"
Basit nodded slowly.
"The one you said had this… aura?"
"The same one."
Ridwan let out a long whistle.
"So you're telling me the mighty Basit is finally smitten?"
Basit frowned. "Smitten ke? Don't exaggerate."
Ridwan burst out laughing. "Allahu Akbar! I thought you would be single forever! I thought no girl could shake you!"
Basit stood abruptly. "Are you for real? Aren't we the same? Pot calling kettle black!"
He dashed toward his bedroom and locked the door.
"Basit!" Ridwan banged on it playfully. "Come out! I promise I won't kill you tonight — I'll only beat you small!"
Their laughter echoed through the apartment.
The neighbors were used to them. Outside, they were calm, composed, almost intimidating. But at home? They were children.
They chased each other around, wrestled lightly, tickled one another until they collapsed onto the couch, breathless.
Childhood friends.
Brothers in everything but blood.
When they finally calmed down, Ridwan leaned back, serious now.
"So… this isn't infatuation?"
Basit stared at the ceiling.
"This has been going on for two years," he admitted quietly. "Since the first time I noticed her. I tried to avoid her. You know dating isn't allowed in Islam. And she… she gives that 'don't come near me' vibe."
Ridwan nodded.
"But now," Basit continued, "I don't think I can go back to acting like before. Getting closer made it worse. She has this presence… this discipline. It pulls me in."
Ridwan studied his friend.
"Bro… I think you're in love. Deeply."
Basit didn't argue.
"And if it's real," Ridwan continued, grinning again, "start preparing yourself. I can already imagine your parents dancing. Uncle calling everyone. Aunty crying with joy. And me? Best man, obviously."
Basit wanted to shut him up.
But something about hearing those words — groom, marriage, future — stirred something warm inside him.
He didn't understand it fully.
But he liked it.
"I appreciate you," Basit said quietly.
Ridwan waved it off. "We're past appreciation level. We're brothers."
They hugged briefly.
Both came from influential families. Ridwan's father was a respected chief judge; his mother, a world-renowned surgeon. Basit's father was a powerful businessman with investments across countries; his mother, an accomplished construction engineer known for excellence.
Their parents had once hoped to strengthen the bond by marrying their children to each other's siblings.
But fate had other plans.
Basit's sister and Ridwan behaved like siblings already. And Basit and Ridwan were inseparable.
Sometimes, love refuses to follow parental blueprints.
And parents can only pray.
The next morning, Rihannat arrived at school earlier than most students.
She always did.
Even when she had no morning lectures, she preferred studying on campus. There was something about the quiet corridors that helped her think clearly.
She carried her homemade food in her bag — neatly packed — and walked toward her usual spot.
An unused building at the far end of campus.
A quiet corridor.
A corner by the window where sunlight filtered gently across the floor.
She sat there, legs folded neatly, books spread out before her, completely absorbed.
Meanwhile, Basit had just finished his first lecture.
He scanned the usual classrooms.
No sign of her.
He checked the library.
Nothing.
He spotted one of the girls who had walked with her the previous day.
"Excuse me," he asked politely. "Do you know where Rihannat usually studies?"
The girl hesitated, then pointed toward the old building.
"She likes that quiet corridor near the unused block."
Basit thanked her and headed there.
As he approached, he slowed his steps.
And there she was.
Sitting alone.
Sunlight resting on her shoulders.
Completely unaware that someone had been searching for her.
Basit paused for a moment.
Watching.
Smiling.
And for the first time, he realized something clearly —
This wasn't just admiration anymore.
It was something deeper.
Something steady.
Something that wasn't leaving anytime soon.