I sat idly in the winged chair, my eyes still upon the mullioned windows taking in the picturesque view of the gardens ahead, the scene perfectly framed by the generous folds of the curtain. Rich hues of orange gold blended with purple, painting the sky in a swirl of colours, as the sun continued to descend. Huda shuffled around the room, putting together the clothes and jewels Layla had so graciously sent. I glanced upon the racks lined with the finest of clothes, a heady mix of contemporary and vintage pieces.

It was almost time to head downstairs and I was still undecided. A frown settled upon my face as I mulled over the dresses, finally settling upon a black silk dress that shimmered with golden thread-work around the neck and back. My fingers fleeted over the soft fabric and I nodded my head in appreciation. "I'll wear this. Can you pass me those jhumkas?"

"Shukr Allah ka! Mujhe tou laga app ajj tayar hi nahi hongi!" Huda exasperatedly raised her hands in the air. The girl was prone to dramatics. "I go call the makeup artist," she called out behind her, leaping for the door.

[Oh thank god! I didn't think you'd get ready before the day ended.]

Despite my earlier reservations, I was unexpectedly feeling rather calm. Whether it was because of the amiable family lunch earlier or the prospect of finally meeting Yaar, I do not know, but the emptiness within me evaporated as ease finally set in and I was looking forward to a convivial evening. 

"I think we're done. Have a look, do you want any changes?" The girls doing my hair and make up announced, breaking my chain of thought. I turned to see my reflection in the mirror.

I looked .... enchanting?

I wasn't sure, if it was the mystique of the black colour, the snug fit of the dress or the simplistic magnificence of the hair and makeup, but I looked every bit an enchantress ready to entice. I scoffed at the silly notion, it's not like I was looking to impress anybody. Or was I?

"Thank you, this looks perfect. My mother will be proud of me." I chuckled.

The girls soon left and I glanced at myself in the mirror one last time before heading for the door. Exuding confidence in my stature, I waltzed down the hallway with an effortless saunter. The soft click of my heels echoing in the warm room, flooded with the fading gleam of the setting sun. The curtains billowed in the soft summer breeze. The air was ripe with a pleasant, dewy petrichor. I stopped in my track, as realisation dawned upon me.

It was drizzling. The first rain of the season.

Excitement rushed through my veins, and I stepped outside in the open courtyard. The soft drops of water kissed my skin and soaked the dry earth beneath me. I lift my hand, cherishing the feel of the sweet pattern the liquid globes created upon my skin. It was just a soft drizzle, but I welcomed the feeling.

Rain has a certain serenity to it, an almost meditative quality. Every time it rains, I feel a certain calmness envelop me. The pitter patter of the drops create a melancholic tune that soothes my soul. I love the rain, I always have.

I raised my hands and tilt my face towards the sky, feeling the few drops of water cascade down my face, lightly soaking my dress. I twirled around relishing the feeling of joy, liberation and tranquility.

Time had begun to dissolve into itself. I did not know how long I had been revelling in the rain, when an unfamiliar voice broke me out of my trance. 

I whirled around to see an intense pair of dark brown eyes pinned on me. Those deep pools of mahogany swirls stared at me with an unreadable expression. I held his gaze, trying to decipher the raw emotion imprisoned in those eyes, the intensity of which promised to stir life into dormant seeds.

A certain warmth crept up my face, flushing my inside as his eyes roamed my figure, drinking in my form. His heated gaze leisurely wondered down my neck, to the curve of my breasts and lowered onto my petite waist before trailing back up to meet eyes.

My heart raced as our eyes met again. However, this time his eyes had softened with a glint of mischief that reflected off his lips as well. My gaze settled upon his lips; his full lips which were trying to fight a smile.

Wait. Was he? Was he laughing at me?

I turned away in mortification, grimaced at the possibility. The rain had stopped and an eerie humid air blanketed the surrounding. I fixed my duppatta and decided to walk back inside. I hoped he would have left by now, but when I looked back I found the same pair of eyes still intently peering at me, as if trying to pierce into my soul.

Although, much to my relief the deeply aggravated frown was now replaced with a softer, more placid expression. He looked at ease, seemingly enjoying his surrounding. Now that I looked carefully, I noticed his face was strong and defined, his features sharp and angular. A light dusting of hair peaked from under his slightly undone shirt. A stubble grazed his jaws, framing his ripe generous lips.

I quickly averted my gaze to look back into those mesmerising eyes that still held mine in a deep stare.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude." He finally spoke in a deep baritone voice.

"Hmm. What are you doing here? These are residential quarters and outsiders aren't allowed here. How did you get in?" I didn't even try to conceal my vexation at his rude interruption.

A confused expression marred his face, but it was so quickly replaced that I wondered if I even saw it in the first place.

"You don't know who I am?"

"Of course I do. You're Yaar's brother, Ahmed Uncles's son."

His lips quivered with slight amusement. "You'd know my name then too."

"Yes I do. Doesn't all of Pakistan know your name?" I shrugged. "But that doesn't answer my question, what are you doing here?"

His face hardened with an incomprehensible expression. "Maybe you should ask your family that."

My eyes narrowed at his cryptic response. He sighed and stepped forward walking up to me, inadvertently I stepped back.

"What's your name?" He asked peering down at me. Now that he was close, I felt acutely aware of his towering presence. A confident, domineering aura radiated from his lean muscular built.

"Why would I tell you that?" I jutted my chin at him with defiance dancing in my eyes.

He leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning the outer shell of my ear. "You know my name. It's only fair I know yours," he said in a cool whisper. "So, what's your name?"

"Shanzae. Shanzae Malik." I stepped back, flustered at the sudden proximity.

He too stepped back, his face contorted with a victorious smile. Bloody jerk. He was enjoying this.

"Shanzae." He repeated, stretching each syllable. He held his hand out, waiting for me to hold it. I gazed at it unsure, before finally placing mine in his warm ones. He lifted my hand to his lips and before placing a soft kiss there, his lips lingering there for a moment longer. His stare never once leaving mine.

"I'm Aaliyaar. Aaliyaar Ahmed Chaudhry."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I find it hard to express my feelings but I can't even begin to explain just how much I love your feedback and comments.
Thank you everyone who voted and left amazing comments on the previous chapters. This is my first attempt at writing something, so your encouragement means the world.

Also, Aliyaar is finally here. 🥳🥳🥳
The gif above pretty much sums up Aliyaar's reaction upon seeing Shanzae. 😉

Also, I know this actor is Italian, but can he remotely pass off as Pakistani? Otherwise I'll have to change him and I really don't want to.

Let me know your thoughts. I'd love to hear them.