ADAMAWA STATE, NIGERIA.

Fatima lie down on her belly watching more videos of those Arabian couple she's been obsessing over. A knock came on the door and sat up quickly knowing that should be Ahmad back from work. She sighed, she's almost forgotten about their teacher and student relationship that she was ready to haul yet more choices of words.

Why is she being so forgetful recently? Another suspire before she yelled out an unladylike come in that he would've commented on had they not being is settled terms, no, not good terms. They're still tolerating one another before the other snaps.

Ahmad walked in with a large tray in hand, his self-assured strides reaching her bed in no time. For the first time in her life Fatima is not excited about food but the person holding it in hand. Her mouth gaped a bit at the sight before her, even thinking the aroma of the food is coming from him instead of the food. He is wearing a tank top and knee length beach shorts! His tanned skin getting illuminated by the dim lights in her room caused the skin to glow gold, his dark hair stood up against the contrast of far skin. Hot! It's too hot in there and she needs to get out or do something stupid like they had the day before. No wonder she couldn't resist, he is ridiculously handsome and well sculpted.

She's seen him with much minimum clothing but she is looking at him now without the help of any toxic pill in her blood. This is pure woman hormones that is about to reck her well grown self control. And then their eyes clashed, behave her a knowing smile that says I know what you are doing but I'm not about to comment and cause trouble. Fatima rolled her eyes, the man is really arrogant then her attention went back to the food he is holding in hand, she licked her lips.

There is no way this new side of him will perish, she will keep being nice even if it's just for food in front of her. Who doesn't want free delicious food?

Betsy cooked them fresh fish pepper soup and fried yam for them before she left but Fatima feels awfully hungry now at the sight of what she hasn't seen. He gently placed it on the edge of the bed where she won't be able to throw away with her feet if she moves. Her eyes fell on what is before her -scrambled eggs, boiled sweet potatoes, cream curry chicken, baked beans and abundant amount of ketchup by the side. A smile split her face into two, it lit up her whole face that she felt her stomach smiling too, no cooked story.

The fact here is, they seem to share the same love and adoration for chicken, he cooks almost everything with chicken and that is Fatima's favorite food. If there is chicken, Fatima is following closely behind even if it is cooked with poison.

Ahmad smiled right back and it reminded her why she slept with him. On God, the man is fucking gorgeous and everything he does makes him look more exquisite. He is like an archangel, grace and elegance following every little gesture he does leaving his audience enchanted and mesmerized even she is not escaping the clutches. She's seen that amount of handsomeness since before but never allowed herself to talk it even with her mind. But what happened yesterday is acting like the opening she needs to and thoughts keep flooding.

Betsy had to open her mouth and make her feel like a wanton woman. "I swear to god, bitch, I would've tapped on ACP Al-hafiz had I been in your place. Why would I stay married to someone drop dead fucking handsome and not take advantage of the situation? I'm so jealous of you right now." Betsy had pouted, biting her lower lip in a sexy way that only Fatima knew what it means.

Her friend is anything but a virgin, she wants to have a taste of all the flavors she could before settling down and after each discarded man, she will tell Fatima about it. They will laugh over a chilled coke and then plot about her next person.

"He took my virginity." Fatima rolled her eyes, inculcating that piece of information in Betsy's head will be like cleaning someone's name from a stone.

It's Betsy's turn to roll her eyes heavenward while muttering beneath her breath. "Stop putting too much importance in virginity, girl, rest a bit. And so what if he took your virginity? He did it the right way didn't he? And beside, you gave it to your husband like every other good girl."

Fatima can't help chortling at that, she did give it to her husband but it doesn't mean she is happy about it. She tend to forget about something called virginity and having sex in marriage, all her thoughts is, you will get a lifetime partner to disturb the heck out of but few weeks into a dreadful marriage, she has given it up in exchange for her well-being. She couldn't bring herself to call up Dr. Mujida, she is too mad at the woman to consider listening to her halfhearted apology that will surely set her off. She will insist that it was for their own good, won't accept she did something wrong.

"And who told you I was ready to give it up? I wanted to wait until I get married to a handsome foreigner with blue eyes and full beard before I give it up." She's always loved foreigners with blue eyes, they make her heart skip a beat with it's twinkle and unearthly depth.

"I beg to differ. This one is way hotter than any foreigner you shall meet and besides, his only flaw in your description is the fact that his eyes are not blue but so what? He is hotter than all those blue and green eyes. His voice is enough to make my pants wet, don't get me started on his nonchalant elegance. Now tell me, how was it?" Betsy wiggled her brows, shrugging off Fatima's glare about getting wet but she isn't lying.

Fatima shook her head, she is not going to tell her something so intimate and complicated. It shouldn't be scrutinized by eager friends even though Betsy knew more about men than she ever will. There are just no words to describe such soul stealing intimacy and the devastating confusion that followed soon after. She's never felt anything relatively close to what she felt after her encounter with Ahmad, like he's seen every little secret she is hiding which was why she didn't bother hiding the fact that her Islamic and religious part is lacking of not absent at whole. She will never be more vulnerable than she'd been with him yesterday.

"I cannot tell you anything about it. It's ineffable, girl. Sometimes words are just not enough to convey some things, just like this." She shrugged her shoulder, inclining back on the couch and sighed gratefully at her filled stomach.

Betsy's face yaw to a teasing expression, her lips suited into a perfect o and her eyes wide with mischief. "So it was that passionate. Finally something Fatima cannot put to words, she is speechless." Betsy giggled behind her palms to annoy her. "Okay, rate it from 1 to 10."

Fatima thought, how can she rate it? Ten is too small a number to rate why they had but to avoid further readings, she'd answered with a reluctant nine.

"Ukiyo sweetheart, it means live in the moment."

"Where are you lost? I didn't poison the food." Fatima blinked at the sound of Ahmad's baritone voice, she was thinking too hard on something that should be set in the past. Half hitting her head, she sat up leisurely to avoid causing havoc on the bed and lose her chances in eating such delicious goody.

"Even if you poison it, I'm going to eat it." She drew the tray closer to her and picked up the fork beside it to start on the cream curry chicken, it looks too yellowy good to ignore.

Ahmad stood straighter since the tray is safely in her grasp. "I'll be downstairs." He made his way to do foot only to be stopped by the muffled sounds of her protest, he meandered with furrowed brows.

She swallowed thickly, she didn't finish biting and chewing on the potatoes but she had to talk. "Are you going there to eat your own food?" At his nod, she got off the bed, slipped her slippers and held the tray. "Lead the way by all means because I'm going to take your plate if it has more chicken than mine."

Ahmad shook his head with a smile and make his way out of her room and down the stairs. Fatima followed quietly behind him, one wrong move will have the food tumbling from her hand to the fine flooring of their home. When they reach the bottom, she pushed past him with her smaller size and went to the dining room first but didn't find any plate so she furthered to the kitchen where she found a mountain of food waiting for him. Mouth hitting the floor, she pivoted to look at him in question.

"Are you going to eat all these?"

"No. I'm going to pack some for the officers outside." His answer was honest but she thought he was being sarcastic before he got to work of piling more than half the food into a warmer. Fatima watched in amazement as he worked efficiently like a woman when she wouldn't have known what the heck that warmer is for.

He went outside and gave them the food and came back, sat down and started eating his own food. She pouted, she would've added from that portion he gave to the guards but, it's okay, she can manage this one. She lowered to the chair opposite him and continue to devour her food without etiquette of the dining room nor the one for a lady. What? This is the same food man and woman eats, why the heck is it that only the woman would follow baseless etiquettes? She won't.

Tired of the quietness of the place, Fatima browsed through her conversations and took the safest side. "So, how did you become a police officer when you are very good at gold digging?"

Ahmad stopped eating for a few seconds to glare at her, she had to go ahead and ruin his good mood. She only gave a small shrug that it's not her fault that's how she keeps seeing things are her mouth tend to blurt out things whether good or bad. Then he remembered again, because they share teacher student relationship now doesn't mean she will stop pushing his buttons every now and then. No actually, she will always push his buttons because it's still less than twenty four hours since they built the relationship but she has done that twice already.

He answered her anyway. "I've always loved the uniform at first back in Texas. Most of my costumes range from army to police uniform and when I became an adult, I had to go to police academy no matter what. My mother didn't like it of-course but my father supported me like he's always done." Reminiscing the good old days, he twirled his fork on his plate and smiled ruefully.

Rather than sharing the same sentiment, Fatima just made a face. How could uniform push you into doing something? Well, American police officers look hot in their uniform but Nigerians, she begged to differ even though Ahmad proved her wrong. The uniform fits him like it was meant for him all along, his tall and big boned frame will swallow up every inch of the well pressed clothing. He is the only person she's seen that the uniform looked good on and that too with effortless grace.

"How sentimental." She flatted her lips before asking something else. "Where is your father?"

Something changed in him, he tensed and his hold on his fork tighten an octave but she noticed it, as small as it was. "He is dead." Oh, that's why his mood changed? But this expression of his doesn't come with mourn or grieve, it's something else that he remembers only when his father is mentioned. Oh no, he had daddy issues too before the old man died.

"Oh, ayyah." She is almost out of topics when she remembered something. "That Colt Paterson revolver I saw in your room that day, where did you get it from? I'm very sure it's older than the time you came to Nigeria so my father didn't give it to you. How did you get it? It's such an expensive and rare gun to find."

Ahmad smiled because the memory behind the gun is dear to him and one of the things that kept him sane. It was a year ago when they went on an operation with Oliver and a few others in their department. Ahmad was shoot on his leg but he managed to have most of the terrorists killed from his hiding, he removed to surrender while they are trying to bomb out a few places in Texas. For his bravery, the gun was given to him by the inspector general who said the gun is extremely dear to him but what Ahmad did was unforgettable.

"It was given to me by my senior but how do you know so much about guns? I'm amazed." He doesn't look the least bit impressed by the fact though, his words were dry and almost out of place.

"I was fascinated with the object since I was seventeen. That was when I decided to go learn how to shoot and found out so much about them. I'm still going to put that skill to good use." She gave a saccharine smile too sweet to pass up as sarcastic. She is referring to the incident that permitted her to see the gun in his room.

Ahmad chuckled, shook his head and continue to eat his food for the girl won't kill him. Fascinated with guns at seventeen? That was the same age he went to police academy but he wasn't allowed gun that time but look at this brat, toying with big men's toys.

"Stop calling me brat in your head." She commented dryly and he was startled thinking he's said it out loud but she confirmed he didn't. "You didn't say it out loud but I know that's what you are saying. Have you forgotten you are dining with a psychologist? I know what's going on through your head without looking too close into your expression."

His expression made an Oh, for real? "Then what I'm I thinking now?"

She looked at him for about five seconds before dropping her fork beside her plate. "You are amazed that I can do this even with the fire and drama I am good at creating."

"I'm doomed then." He chuckled.