Intro. (The door creaks open. His steps halt.)
“SubhanAllah…”
His voice is a low whisper, caught between shock and restraint.
“You… what are you doing here?”
He stands at the door, gaze fixed. There she is—his sister’s friend—asleep in his bed. Her hair uncovered, her chest rising and falling with soft breaths. Peaceful. Unaware. Innocent… but dangerously so.
He clenches his jaw, looking away quickly, one hand tightening at his side.
“Ya Allah, grant me patience…”
His heart pounds—not out of desire, but the chaos of thoughts. The rules. The boundaries. The fitnah.
“How did this happen? Did she not know whose room this was?”
He steps closer, careful not to look at her face again.
“Wake up…” (his voice is firmer now, low but commanding)
“Before I say or do something I’ll regret… Wake up and cover yourself. You shouldn’t be here.”
A pause. He exhales through his nose, long and slow.
“You don’t understand what this does to a man like me… a man who fears Allah… but is still made of flesh.”