Misha's POV:

"What happened to your face?!" I gasped as I looked at Ibraheem's disheveled attire. There was a light bruise under his left eye. I carefully brought my hand forward to touch it but I recoiled almost immediately think it would probably hurt him if I touched it. Ibraheem had landed in Lahore last night after staying almost a week in Karachi. The first thing he did after landing was call me up so we could have lunch today so here I was sitting in his Range Rover in the parking lot of my university.

"Ah shit, it still hasn't faded? It's nothing. Don't worry about it, meri jaan." Ibraheem averted his eyes while placing a hand on his bruise and I narrowed my eyes at him. What in the world was he hiding? He was gone for almost an entire week to Karachi saying he had to take care of his political duties but this didn't look like it was work related.

"Who did you have a fight with?" Ibraheem looked at me in surprise. I crossed my arms over my chest as I looked at him pensively. "Who hit you? Tell me."

"Nobody babe." He chuckled but I could sense the uneasiness in his voice. Was he seriously going to hide shit from me?

"Nahi batana? Theek hai. Men ja rahi hun. Khud khana kha lou. (You are not going to tell me? Fine then. I am leaving. Eat by yourself.)" I made a move to grab the door handle but he quickly grabbed my wrist.

"Acha meri jaan batata hun. Jazbaati kyun horahi ho? (Alright, my life, I will tell you. Why are you getting emotional?)" Ibraheem smirked but I glared at him and it wiped the smile of his face. He scratched the back of his head as he answered. "Abbu hit me." I blinked. Once. Twice.

What? What did he just say?

"Uncle hit you?" I repeated his words. I mean, I know his father gave off aggressive vibes but he didn't look like violent type. What did he do to piss him off so much?

"Yeah." He muttered lowly. "Well, he didn't exactly hit me. I just didn't dodge what he was throwing at me in a fit." He grinned at me and I just looked at him dumbfounded.

Silence fell on us and then I imagined the scene of Ibraheem dodging the things his father was throwing at him. For some reason, in that moment, the scene seemed so amusing to imagination that I don't know what came over me but I ended up laughing. I laughed until tears came out of my eyes while Ibraheem just smiled.

"I should" I broke into a fit of laughter then paused, "have seen" I laughed again, "this scene unfold." I wiped my tears while Ibraheem feigned hurt.

"You are happy to hear your husband getting hurt? That hurts my feelings." Ibraheem put a hand over his heart while he reversed the car and I laughed again. How was he so perfect? Was it even possible for a man to be this amazing?

"You know I would never be happy if you actually got hurt but this situation just made me laugh. I am sorry." I beamed up at him while tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"It's alright, my love. I know you won't. So what do you want to eat?" Even his side profile was perfect. I looked down at his hand broodingly. There was something I had wanted to do but for some reason, my confidence from last night depleted.

"Whatever you are down for. I am okay with anything. What are you in the mood for? Desi? Chinese?" I replied while still looking down at his free hand that was resting on his thigh. Should I just go for it? I didn't get a reply from him so I snapped my eyes up at him only to see him looking at me with a confused expression.

"Where are you looking, little fox? What is down there?" Ibraheem smirked at me. He looked down at his pants and then back at me. I sensed an inappropriate undertone in his words and gaped at him. My face turned red as I wheezed in shock.

"You are misunderstanding!" I answered quickly but he just laughed out loud.

"Whatever you say, little fox. Isn't it getting hot in here? Should I turn on the A.C?" Ibraheem grinned again.

"It's seriously not what you are thinking! I just wanted to do this...." I trailed off. Before he could respond, I grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it causing him to look at me with wide eyes while he swerved the car a bit. I had seen a Turkish actress do this to her husband in a drama and really wanted to try it with Ibraheem. It just seemed like such an adorable gesture of affection. I looked up at Ibraheem who was just looked at me in absolute silence with a contemplative look on your face.

"Misha, are you doing this on purpose?" His voice sounded gruff.

"Doing what on purpose?" What did I do now?

"Turning me on?" I gaped at him.

"No! I am not."

"You sure because what you did just now has me feeling all kinds of things." Ibraheem sounded excited.

"It's a sign of affection. I watched it in a Turkish drama." I explained quickly before he got any other stupid ideas.

"A Turkish drama huh? Babe, you should watch more of them if they are teaching you things like this." Ibraheem laughed while I just lightly punched his arm. How was he so shameless? I covered my face with embarrassment. I can't believe he thought I was looking at his manhood. Speaking of that, I wonder what he is like down-Stop Misha. You are not going down that rabbit hole. Don't. Snap out of it. But I wonder, I slowly parted my fingers to take a peak. One look won't hurt anyone-I mean he is my husband, there is nothing-

"We are here, babe." I snapped out of my inappropriate thoughts as I looked in the front of the car. Chinese huh? I was about to grab the handle again but Ibraheem stopped me. "Sit here."

"Why?" I frowned at him.

"I am going to open your door." I tilted my head in his direction. He could tell I was still lost.

"Why? Is there a child lock or something?"

"No." He rolled his eyes. "Has a guy never opened the door for you? No, never mind, don't answer that. I don't want to know" He got out of the car as he rounded the car and opened the door for me. Was he being a gentleman? Chivalry wasn't dead huh? I grinned widely as he offered his hand. I was about to take his hand when I spotted a familiar face going into the restaurant and panicked. WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE? YIKES.

On reflex, I grabbed Ibraheem's hand and pulled him into the car with such sheer force that he stumbled and fell on top of me. I pulled the lever that made sure the seat went back. I closed the door and hid my face in his chest while he was on top of me. Spacious luxury cars, I swear. You can fit a cow in them.

"What are you doing jaan?" Ibraheem frowned but I hushed him. Were they gone yet?

"Are the windows see through?" I whisper yelled.

"No, they are tinted black. You cannot see inside. Why?" He had either of his arms around my head to make sure his weight won't crush me.

"Even the front?" I grabbed his shirt due to the anxiety that was piling up.

"Yes, love, even the front." He assured me but his voice was laced with concern.

"Promise?"

"Promise. Hua kya hai? (What happened?)" He seemed distressed too now.

"My phupho and her nosy daughters just went into the restaurant. If they see me coming out of a car with a man, it's going to be the death of me." I explained quickly and Ibraheem nodded his head slowly in understanding. "Let me see if they are gone." I carefully glanced and noticed that they were nowhere in sight. I sighed in relief. "They are gone."

Once the panic subsided, I realized the situation I was in. Ibraheem was literally on top of me. Both of his hands were on either side of my head so his face was only inches away from mine but I could feel his warm breath against my cheeks. His abdomen was touching mine lightly. My cheeks suddenly turned red as my breath hitched in my throat.

"Uh, Ibraheem?" I refused to make eye contact with him in this situation. I was looking anywhere but his face. He dipped his head down and whispered in my ear.

"Yeah?" His voice sounded hoarse. I felt chills run down my spine.

"You can move to the driver's seat now. The crisis has been evaded." I replied softly but he made no attempt to move.

"Let's stay like this for a bit longer?" He whispered as he leaned down and gave me a proper hug. I trembled as I felt my stomach twist. 

"This is driving me crazy." He then looked at me as he kissed my forehead before he moved to his driving seat. I was at a complete loss of words.

"Shall we get Italian instead?" Ibraheem questioned as he pressed the start button and reversed the car slowly. I was still spacing out.

"Yeah," I unconsciously pressed my hand on my face and felt it turn red.  A wave of goosebumps took over me. What just happened? And why did I already miss the feeling of having him near me?

I watched Ibraheem grip the steering wheel tightly until his knuckles turned white but he had a smile on his face. Did he regret what he had done? Was that it? Did I put him off? A feeling of dread took over me.

Author's Note:

Hello and Asalam o Alaikum Lovelies!

I hope you are all well and taking necessary precautionary measures against Corona.