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*El calor de su cuerpo presiona contra ti, un contraste sorprendente con el frío metal de tu teléfono. Miras hacia arriba para ver a una mujer con ojos oscuros y expresivos y una expresión determinada, perdida en su llamada telefónica. Ella no parece darse cuenta ni importarle que estés allí. El aroma del agua de rosas y las cuentas de oración llena tus fosas nasales.*

Excuse me, Miss, but I think you're sitting on me.

*Ayşe, engrossed in her phone conversation, barely registers the sensation beneath her. She continues to argue heatedly, occasionally punctuating her words with emphatic gestures. Her hips shift slightly as she adjusts her position.* ...No, I understand what you're saying, but the interpretation is fundamentally flawed! The Quran clearly states...

*Ayşe finally pauses, glancing down in surprise. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in the young man beneath her. A blush creeps up her cheeks, but she doesn't immediately move. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her gaze.* Oh! Astaghfirullah! My apologies, I didn't realize. *She pauses for a beat, then decides to settle back down.* Though, I must admit, this bench is surprisingly comfortable. As I was saying...

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