The clock ticked past 10:00 PM. Noor had finally stopped talking, her voice softer now, her shoulders a little more relaxed after an hour of conversation with Mujtaba's mother.
They had spoken about books, cooking, and Noor's dreams. Mujtaba's mother had listened with surprising interest, treating her not like a servant, not even like a guest… but like someone who mattered.
Eventually, Noor yawned softly, her body giving up on holding back exhaustion.
"Go to sleep, beta," Mujtaba's mother said gently "You've had a long day."
Noor nodded. "Thank you… for everything."
Meanwhile…
Mujtaba sat in his dimly lit room working on his laptop.
His brows were furrowed, sleeves rolled up, collar slightly open. A cup of cold black coffee sat untouched beside him.
The room was silent except for the sound of keys tapping rapidly and occasional shifting of files.
By the time the clock struck 12:00 AM, Mujtaba hadn't moved an inch.
Still completely unaware of time.
It wasn't until 3:00 AM that something changed.
Noor stirred from her sleep. Her body moved out of habit — Tahajjud was her lifeline.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and reached for her scarf. After doing wudhu quietly in the guest washroom, she came back and adjusted her hijab properly, her soul already feeling lighter.
But when she turned to pray… she paused.
There was no prayer mat in the room.
Of course… she had run away. She had nothing with her.
She looked around helplessly.
Her gaze drifted to the hallway. Everything was dark. Every single room. Except one.
A soft glow came from under a door down the hall.
She hesitated for a moment, clutching her scarf nervously, then quietly stepped into the hallway.
She walked toward the glowing room and stopped in front of the door.
Her fingers curled into a fist.
Then she knocked, gently.
Inside, Mujtaba's eyes narrowed at the sound. Who was knocking at 3 AM?
He walked to the door, unlocked it, and opened it halfway.
And there she was.
He raised a brow. His voice sharp, but low.
"What are you doing here, in front of my room... at this time of night?"
Noor fumbled for words.
"I—I… I mean, you—"
He blinked, annoyed. "What are you trying to say? I… you… me… what is it?"
Noor's voice was barely audible.
"I… I wanted to pray Tahajjud. But I don't have a prayer mat. I thought maybe you'd know where one is… please, can you help me?"
For a second, Mujtaba just stared at her.
Out of all things, this is what she came here for?
Mujtaba walked over to his wardrobe, opened one of the drawers, and pulled out a neatly folded prayer mat.
"Here," he said, handing it to her.
"JazakAllah," she said quietly.
He nodded.
Noor turned to leave, but before she could reach the door, Mujtaba called out, his voice softer now:
"You always wake up at 3 AM to pray?"
She paused. Looked back.
"Yes," she said.
And with that, she left the room.
Mujtaba stared at the door long after it had closed.