"Not every war starts with shouting. Some begin with eye contact... and end with silence.
The next morning, Hijab arrived to pick Bilal up with the driver. He slid into the backseat, the leather groaning under his weight.
His cologne hit her immediately—sharp, suffocating, deliberate.
He leaned back with an ease that spoke of entitlement, one arm stretched across the seat, his leg brushing hers.
"Comfortable?" he asked, a weird smile curling on his lips.
Hijab didn't return it.
"Please sit in the front," she said firmly.
Bilal raised an eyebrow, clearly amused."What for? Are you scared?"
"No," she replied evenly. "I just value my personal space."
He didn't look at her right away. Just brushed invisible lint from his sleeve, making her wait for his attention—a move meant to annoy, to control.
Then, without a word, he shifted to the front seat. Yet somehow, his presence still filled the car—like an unspoken challenge.
"Interesting," he murmured, catching her reflection in the rearview mirror. "Most girls can't seem to help staring."His voice dipped slightly—smooth, practiced."But you… you're different."
Hijab kept her gaze locked on the window.
Because there's nothing worth looking at, she thought.But she didn't say it aloud.
Bilal let out a low laugh."Quiet now? Quiet girls are usually the easiest to break."
Hijab turned to him, voice quiet—but steel-lined."Try," she said."You'll find it's not as easy as you think."
Bilal shifted slightly, something about her lack of reaction throwing him off.
Every calm answer of hers feels like a slap dressed in silk.I'm swallowing it for now, only because this game needs time. You don't burn the house before finding where the gold is buried. Let her think she's winning.
He tried to calm himself with the thought.
"So, where are we going? Some village in the middle of nowhere?" he said, voice coated in disdain.
Hijab turned her head, just slightly—finally meeting his gaze for the first time.
"To the university."
Bilal gave a short, mocking laugh."Finally. Maybe I'll get to see some decent girls there."
She didn't blink.Didn't flinch.Just turned her face back to the window, letting the silence curl between them—not cold, but dangerous.
He talks like a man starved of dignity, she thought.As if it's something women owe him.
What do you think of Hijab's calm resistance?
Who's really in control here—Bilal with his words, or Hijab with her silence?Drop a comment—I want to hear your take. 👇