The Untainted
Chapter 16
Basit's Apartment
********
Ridwan cleared his throat for the third time.
"Faridat… please, can we talk about this tomorrow?"
Faridat gasped dramatically and sat upright. "No way! Stop that and start talking, jo."
"I… ohhh…" He dragged his palm down his face. "I want to rest. I was in school the whole day. I'm exhausted."
"You can rest later. Just kill my curiosity small. You know I won't sleep peacefully until I hear something." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Or should I follow you to your apartment?"
Ridwan straightened immediately. "No. Nah. Not a chance. You're not that little Faridat that used to follow me around when we were children."
She folded her arms. "Then what do you want me to do?"
He sighed deeply. "Fine. Let's talk for some minutes."
Victory flashed across her face.
"So?" he asked, already regretting it. "What exactly do you want to hear? Be fast."
"Don't rush me. Let me think."
He threw his head back. "Ahh, subhanallah. Okay. Think. I'm waiting."
She tapped her chin dramatically. "do they meet in school today? Has he confess now or not? Are—"
"Wait. Wait. Wait!" Ridwan raised both hands. "You're not asking me that again, are you? You should be asking your brother, not me. Go and interview him yourself."
He made to stand, but she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back down beside her.
"Okay, okay! Just tell me anything.... you know. Just gist me. Please." she always want to be in his company and they mistook it for talkative.
"Faridat, your gist can wait—"
"No! It cannot wait." She pouted with exaggerated cuteness.
He groaned, defeated.
We've talked about this three days ago. Why are you still disturbing me, ahhh.
"Fine. I heard he saw her at the administrative office in his first year. That was more than two years ago. Though the feel—"
"Stop!" she interrupted sharply. "He saw her almost three years ago. And he still feels the same? That's not infatuation. That's genuine." I just feel like all this is a dream. Can you bring me back to reality? It's just hard to believe.....you know about my brother having a crush or something not to talk of unrequited love.
Ridwan couldn't help smiling. For the first time since he stepped into the apartment that weekend, his shoulders relaxed. He leaned back against the couch. It was weekend.
"Yes, Faridat. His feelings keep growing every day."
Her eyes twinkle. "Really?"
"You have no idea how many times he has helped her secretly."
She blinked. "Helped her how?"
"With her art. The drawings. The photography. Basit has been sending customers to her without letting her know it's him."
Faridat's mouth slowly opened.
"Sometimes," Ridwan continued, lowering his voice, "he would even give people money to buy her work at a higher price. Just to encourage her."
"Subhanallah…" she whispered.
"Her works are actually impressive, to be honest. She's like a professional. I don't even know why she's not studying art. But she's excelling in Business too."
"Did Basit tell you all this?" she asked suspiciously.
Ridwan chuckled. "Basit? Tell me? Never."
"Then how did you know?"
"I saw her artwork in his bedroom two years ago. Signed 'R.H.' I asked him about it. He brushed it off. But after that, I started noticing things."
He began counting on his fingers.
"He connects her to rich students whenever they need calligraphy for birthdays, paintings for events, photography for family gatherings. When we go to the masjid, he gives some of the brothers money to buy her work—but tells them not to mention his name."
Faridat stared at him.
"I'm sure most of the brothers know already," he added with a shrug.
Then he turned to her with a teasing grin. "Now you understand why beautiful Rihannat doesn't have too many suitors in school? Your brother quietly keeps flies away and clears the stage."
Faridat burst into laughter. "So he's been guarding her without her even knowing?"
"Strategic man," Ridwan said proudly.
Their laughter filled the apartment.
What was meant to be a five-minute gist stretched into long storytelling—childhood memories, university drama, small secrets, exaggerated jokes. Time slipped quietly past them.
At some point, Faridat's responses became slower.
"Hmm… and then?" she murmured faintly.
Ridwan turned mid-sentence and realized her head was tilting toward his shoulder.
"Faridat?"
No answer.
She had fallen asleep.
He blinked.
Carefully, he adjusted her posture and helped her lie properly on the couch so her neck wouldn't strain. He avoided looking toward her bedroom.
Non-mahram, he reminded himself firmly.
He reached for a folded blanket in the corner and gently spread it over her.
And that was when it happened.
He froze.
His hand lingered for a second too long.
His gaze drifted to her face.
Her features were relaxed. Peaceful. Soft. The stubborn spark in her eyes now replaced with childlike innocence.
He swallowed.
"No one would believe how troublesome you are when you're awake," he murmured softly.
His eyes traced unconsciously—from her neatly shaped brows to the slope of her nose… then paused at her lips.
His breath hitched.
A strange sensation crept into his chest. Warm. Unsettling. Dangerous.
His heart began racing.
Astaghfirullah.
He tried to look away.
But it felt like his body refused the command.
Why does she look this beautiful while sleeping?
She looked… ethereal.
The word echoed in his mind like a forbidden thought.
A foreign feeling spread through him, like poison slowly mixing with his bloodstream. His brain short-circuited. His pulse thundered in his ears.
This wasn't right.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't safe.
Suddenly, clarity struck like cold water.
He dropped the blanket fully over her and stepped back as if burned.
Without another glance, he rushed out of the apartment.
In his room, Basit stirred.
He had intended to take a short nap earlier, but exhaustion dragged him into deep sleep. When he woke, the apartment was unusually quiet.
He stepped into the living room—just in time to see Ridwan heading toward the door in a hurry.
"Ridwan?" he called faintly.
But the door had already closed.
He frowned slightly.
Then his gaze shifted to the couch.
Faridat was fast asleep.
He walked closer.
She was properly covered with a blanket.
His frown softened.
"What happened here?" he muttered.
For a brief second, curiosity flickered in his eyes. But just as quickly, it faded.
Maybe Ridwan remembered something urgent. Maybe he was tired.
Basit trusted him.
They had grown up together. Shared secrets. Fought battles. Guarded each other's weaknesses.
If there was one thing Basit was certain of—it was Ridwan's boundaries.
He gently lifted Faridat in his arms.
"You better thank Ridwan tomorrow," he murmured quietly as he carried her to her room. "You would have frozen in the sitting room."
He tucked her in carefully and whispered a short dua for her protection before leaving.
As he returned to his room, he paused briefly.
"I'll see him tomorrow, in shaa Allah."
And with that, he lay back down—unaware that something subtle had shifted in the air that night.
Not loud.
Not visible.
But enough to change things.