Zari and Tabeer stood not just age fellows but were majoring in the same field of study. Even then, their experiences, their morals and their ideologies were what set them apart. 

Not to forget, their appearances.

Tabeer sported a little fluff around her face and midsection, but her mother always had her clothes sewn an inch larger. Hence, Tabeer naturally inclined more towards loose-fitting clothes that hardly allowed an outsider to peep onto her body figure. Although her hair would still slip through her scarf, she still consciously kept one on her head.

And sometimes, she wished Zari would too.

Zari's wardrobe was full to the brim with outfits that flaunted her wide hips and small waist, and could be found using Tabeer's dressing as a reason for hilarity. Tabeer didn't let it get to her, though. She knew that even when on the outside Zari involved herself in premarital relationships and negated the concept of hijab, she still housed a beautiful heart deep within her, a heart that had always supported her and stood tall for her. She refused any premonitions.

After all, Allah was the Sole Judge, wasn't He?

"Zari, you're not walking out like that, are you?"

Zari turned away from the mirror she was beautifying her reflection in, and towards Tabeer, her eyes dancing with glee. "You mean, in a sleeveless shirt? Baba will cut me in pieces and feed me to the neighborhood dogs."

Tabeer mustered a small smile, and suddenly, her long skirts and blouses that reached past her wrists were her safe haven. "I was just wondering."

Zari turned back to the mirror, applying another layer of mascara. "I'll wear a cardigan, but take it off later."

"Later as in?"

"When I'm with Arham."

Tabeer's lips parted in shock. "Zari. Look at me."

"Hmm?"

"What are you going to do?"

Zari slowly walked over to her bed Tabeer was seated on, and lowered herself on it next to her. "He said he wants us to make out."

Tabeer flinched and recoiled into herself, her chest a flurry of disdain. "Zari."

"Tabeer, he loves me. And he's not the only one who wants it."

Tabeer stared into her best friend's eyes, her jaw ticking. And then, she stood up. She grabbed the folds of her skirt, gathered her books and slung her sling bag over her shoulder. Just as she was about to slide her feet into her flats, Zari pushed them away with her toes. 

"You're not leaving me alone."

"I'm not supporting you in this, Zari. You can do whatever the hell you want."

"Please, I need you."

Tabeer averted her gaze, her cheeks red with shame. "No."

Zari sucked in a shaky breath, stepping away and settling back on the bed, her head in her hands. Tabeer allowed her gaze to waiver over to her friend, and as she witnessed Zari crumbling into heaps and piles before her, her heart softened and her jaw loosened itself of its hinges.

Even if Tabeer wanted to, she could not abandon Zari because wherever she step foot, she felt the weight of Zari's friendship weigh over her. Besides, wasn't she always taught to hate the sin and not the sinner?

Tabeer sat down next to Zari and the two friends sat side by side, their knees and shoulders touching the other's before Zari put her head in Tabeer's lap. 

"I won't let him touch me. But Tabs, don't go."

"You promise?"

Zari nodded.

"Use your words, Zari."

Just when Tabeer was beginning to believe it wasn't in Zari to make such laborious pledges, Zari whispered, "I promise."

— ❖ —