The One Where He Comes Again
تیرے وعدے پر جئے ھم اے جان!جھوٹ جانا کہ مر نہ جاتے خوشی سے اگر اعتبار ہوتا۔
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Azlaan Ahmed was sitting on the loveseat, his back broad and shoulders prideful. Besides him sat his brother Ali.
Next to Jannat's mother, sat his Mother Saima.
"Jannat, I am so happy. I can't believe this. Can you imagine? You, as Azlaan bhai's wife? O my God. I want to dance at your wedding already! " ,Hoorain exclaimed and Dua laughed.
Jannat couldn't raise her head. She tried but she could not. She was so so shy, she could feel it in her bones. They were cousins, she had known them for ages. But this was different. It felt different. Because the air was heavy with numerous feelings. Euphoria, excitement, exuberance. Everyone was happy.
They didn't feel like her cousins now. They were here for her engagement to Azlaan. She could almost read everyone's mind. Why had she read so many romance books? Her thoughts made the blush on her cheeks look pale. She blushed again, her skin glowing.
"Azlaan, come here, mera beta. " Her Ammi patted the sofa next to her. He stood up and ran his hand over his white button down shirt that he had paired with black pants. His oxford shoes tapped the floor and his grey eyes twinkled as he sat next to his Khaala, merely two seats away from Jannat.
His name was enough to make her lips shiver and hands clammy. Her head dipped even low.
Ali's loud laugh echoed through out the living room. He sat right opposite to Jannat in his black polo shirt and dark jeans. His hair falling in his eyes as he winked, "Why are you so shy suddenly, Jannat?"
Everyone laughed whole heartedly. Even Azlaan but with a shy smile gracing his raspberry lips.
"Chalo! Badmaash. Meri bachi ko tang na karo. "
Her Khaala was on her side. She was such a sweet and graceful woman. Every word she uttered was sweetness and more sweetness.
The large wooden doors opened and Ibraheem stepped in, his all black Armani business suit clashing against the homey environment. One hand held his phone to his ear the other rubbing his brow.
" Lo, Ibraheem agaya. Idhr aao,beta. " He came towards them as his Ammi called him.
After saying Salam, he sat next to Azlaan. They did the weird hand shake and a side hug.
Jannat kept her head low, towards Hoorain. Hoorain and Dua planned how they'll dance and when to start playing dholki.
Azlaan's father, Ahmed Lashari stepped outside of the drawing room with her father.
His shoulders almost as broad as her father but there was less white in his hair and beard. His Kurta was white and his body still fit.
He had laugh- lines around his mouth and didn't wear glasses like her father. He had always been the 'Cool Uncle' for when they were growing up. He used to play with them and teach them cricket. He was happy, humble person, who didn't take everything as seriously as men did in this powerful family.
As he walked towards them, he smiled and patted his son on his back.
"Why are you sitting here, young man? Go sit next to her. Look at you, shying like a blushing bride! Go on. " He joked as Azlaan slowly stood up, his steps heavy as he gracefully sat next to Jannat on the sofa.
Her mother smiled and Khaala gestured with her hand "Mey waari jawan."
Jannat's head dipped low again and Azlaan smiled again, his dimples appearing on his cheeks.
"Bhabi, look up!" Ali yelled as he snapped some photos on his phone.
Jannat's head jerked up, Azlaan husky laugh echoed as she blushed red.
Ibraheem stood up.
"I'll be back in a minute."
And he was gone.
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Ibraheem tried to calm himself. Shaking with anger, his fist collided with the ivory coloured wall of his room.
His knuckles started bleeding, the skin tearing open as he slammed his clenched fist in the wall again.
He was seething. He closed his eyes and her blushing face appeared before him. So close to touch. Then red appeared before him as he thought of the reason of her blush. How dare he?
Ibraheem cursed himself. It was all his own doing. He had to bear it.
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"Shahida baji! I'll do it. I promise. You can go and rest. "
Jannat assured the maid working in the kitchen. During the last month, Jannat had matured in a way. She stated taking part in the chores around the house, started making tea every evening. She started wearing more mature clothes. Shalwar kameez and dupattas. She did wear frocks sometimes, but they were different. It was not the child-like Jannat anymore.
Azlaan watched as she put the plates in the cupboard, her hair tied at the base of her neck, some strands ticking her collar bones.
Her white shalwar kameez with silver embroidery was adorned with teal tassels. So was her dupatta, which was hanging off one shoulder.
Exhaling through his mouth, Azlaan walked towards her. His feet quiet and his hands folded. He leaned against the kitchen shelf. His back against the cupboards while she was facing the cupboards, a plate in her hand. Jannat froze, the plate hanging mid-air.
"Hey."
Her eyes instantly fell downwards, teeth nibbling on her pink lip. "Hey", she whispered.
Azlaan smiled at her shyness. It was amusing how she played with her dupatta in nervousness. Jannat had always been quiet and shy but this was something else.
"So... What are you doing?", his arms unfolded and held the shelf behind him, his eyes glancing towards the door.
"Nothing. Just putting these away." Jannat spoke but her still held the plate. She didn't dare to put it away.
"Right."
He stared at her for a second, then two.
"Do you want to go out with me to get some ice cream?"
Jannat's eyes raised, she had the courage to look to into his eyes for just a second, not longer. Then her lashes lowered again.
"H-How? W-. We? ", she stammered. All grace left her body and nervousness took over .
He stood straight, one step closer to her. One hand on the shelf and one arm raised to clutch the handle of the cupboard.
"Yes, Jannat. Me and you. To get ice-cream."
His two decibels lower than usual.
"I don't know", She gulped. Her eyes casted downward still, but raised for a mini- second to gaze at him.
Azlaan smiled, his dimples appearing again.
"I'll ask Khaala then. Get ready."
With that he turned on his feet and walked towards the door. The mischief in his tone could be heard by even Ali and Dua, who stood outside kitchen door and ran as soon as they heard Azlaan approaching.
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Writing while fasting is kay, right? It's not edible at all. Bear with me.
Anyways, what do you guys think about Azlaan?
and Ibraheem?
And Jannat?
Vote and Comment please!
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