Zainab's POV

The delicate yet bristly brown tiny brush, whose tip has eventually tainted into an unknown hue after being used for a whole decade, is still running smoothly on the canvas; preserving its own and my dignity. A smile appears on my face when I take a glance at the sketch board in front of me. A huge farmhouse is glowing in the light of sunshine. On the far corner, the water of the lake is seeming dandelion due to the same sunrays plummeting on it.

I drop the paintbrush inside the small cube-shaped plastic cup having clear water and push it's tip deep inside it to wash the brush from any excessive paint. It's been after such a while, I am doing my hobby of painting. Perhaps due to the hectic schedule of University, I stop doing this. But today an odd feeling has urged me to unlock the old worn out room at the roof of my home and portray whatever is in my mind.

For the purpose of getting my painting dry as soon as possible, I drag the portrait stand in front of the window from where hazy rays of the sun are making their way inside the room.

I waver my hands in the air considering how sweaty I am getting.

"You are again sitting here without the fan, Zainab."

I turn back hearing the familiar voice; my smile
gets deeper seeing the person.

"Hi Shaiq," I chime with excitation.

"You still have the courage to greet me in this state." He turns the button up present on the right wall.

"You know right the fan will make my pages fly and then I end up losing concentration, " I reply with a timid smile.

I push the wooden stool under the fan and make myself settle on it. A sigh of relief leaves my mouth when cool air tumbles on my face. Shaiq too sits beside me.

"So here comes our artist Zainab back, huh?" Shaiq says with a smile.

"I am not that good enough to be called an artist." I tug the impinging strands of hair away from my neck to allow the air to invade the sweaty area.

"What have you made?"

"Go look for yourself," I point towards the stand.

He gives me an amusing smile before going towards the window. He first bends on his knees before the canvas and then his eyebrows lift up as an ecstatic look adorns his face.

"That's so amazing. Which colors did you use?" He looks up at me.

"The ones which you gifted me on my last birthday."

"So that was the work of my given paints. That's why I was wondering how can you make such a beautiful sketch," he asserts as a smug look appears on his face.

"Hah! Very funny, " I cross my both arms on my chest in annoyance, "Anyway, what brings you here?"

"So I need a reason to visit my friend's house?" He asks back as he comes back and sits next to me.

"But other than that, I do have hot spicy news for you as well, " he winks.

What spicy news is he talking about?

I feel an intense dryness down my throat which prompts me to get up abruptly and I swallow my saliva to keep my mouth wet but it isn't helping much when I remember I haven't drunk water since this morning.

"But before it, I want to drink something. Let's get down."

He nods and with the same irony smile on his lips follows me. I wonder what is the deal with him which is making him so weird. The smile on his face seems forced. The way his eyes are getting red and swollen isn't giving me good vibes. Shaiq has a strange thing; whenever he is angry or displease on something, his eyes turn red. And the same trait of him doesn't let his mood to get unnoticed by me.

I peek at him with my side-eyes. That's so funny that he knows me more than myself and I know him more than him. Today, there is something unusual in his eyes as well other than the red hue. The peculiarity is exotic to me. Why he is looking so unusually handsome today with the slight aftershave on his face which brings all the features of his face to enhance more. But deep inside, I am sensing a strong change in him.

"What are you looking at?" He questions, his face still on the front.

"I was just wondering why are you looking so handsome today?" I reply as we get inside the kitchen.

I walk towards the fridge and take out the water bottle from inside and pour the water in the glass.

"Are you sure, you are calling me handsome?" He asks as he jumps on the cabinet.

"Yes, when you will be looking handsome, I will call you handsome." I gulp down the water in one go, "what is the hot news by the way?"

"Oh yeah," he mumbles.

"Do you know who your boyfriend's wife is?" He asks.

"How would I know, Shaiq? And why I need to know?"

He jumps off the cabinet and rushes towards me.

"Dumbass, you are so naive. There he is having fun with his wife and you don't care at all," he smacks slightly on my head.

"Hey!" I rub my head as I glare at him.

Having fun? With his wife? What this stupid is blabbering?

"Zara, "

I gaze at him in confusion, "what's with her?"

"It's her," he shouts.

"How does she know?" I let out in a loud voice.

"Silly, Zara is Armaan's wife," he stresses on every single word.

My feet remain fixed to the ground, a chilled wave spirals through my body as my eyes forget to blink. What have I just heard?

Zara? Armaan's wife? Having fun?

"Zara? The same one who is...."

"Yes, the same Zara who is our friend, who studies with us," he grits his teeth in outrage.

"You are kidding, right?" I point my index finger at him.

"Why would I be kidding, Zainab?" He takes out the juice from the fridge and tears the straw's wrapper with his teeth.

How can this happen? In frustration, I run my fingers through my hair. How come I can't figure this out? I have just made her my friend. How can I be so dumb?

"How do you know about it?" I again glance at Shaiq who has just put the straw of the juice in his mouth.

I am annoyed and this guy is just thinking about food.

"He came to drop her to the University yesterday and you know what?" He again jumps and sits on the cabinet, "they were looking so happy. They were smiling and laughing at something."

"And the worst is, I have never seen him laughing like that with you," he blurts while his eyes are locked on me.

Laughing? It has always been difficult for me to just make him smile let alone laugh.

"You are lying. Aren't you? Stop doing these filthy jokes of yours with me," I find my voice coming from afar, low and faint dusk.

My hands start trembling as my voice is reciprocating the same thing. What type of game nature has played with me? The vision in front of me starts getting misty due to tears which renders my steps to ripple.

He can't dump me. He can't be this low to play with two women at the same time. He can't exploit my feelings. But Shaiq can be wrong as well. If Armaan has to fall for his wife, he could have done it a lot earlier.

Shaiq gets down and grabs my arm; a way for me not to lose the balance. He turns me towards him so that I am facing him. His face is stern and his expressions are dripping grimace. I have never seen him this serious before.

"I never lie when it concerns you. And I can never think about joking which can make you upset, " he explains in a low voice.

"But it just made me upset," I mumble, more to myself.

He holds my shoulders and bends down to my level.

"But it's good if you know this beforehand. I am not trying to frighten you, but I am not getting good vibes from Armaan and that wife of his. They seem more than two forcefully married people. There is something with the way Zara's face was glowing on his every mention, which was looking skeptical to me. I want you to clear everything with him before it's too late."

I look straight into his brown twinkling eyes. Now I remember, he also has feelings for Zara. How much he has got hurt discerning this thing. I have been thinking about just me the whole time.

"But you also like..."

"Don't worry about me. Just think about you," he interrupts me.

"But Shaiq.."

"Shh. I have no regrets. Look here, I am smiling and I want to see a smile on artist Zainab's face as well." He pinches my nose.

Just seeing him smiling this comically, makes my lips to spread as well. Shaiq gives an assuring pat on my shoulders. I don't know what I would have done without him. He has always been there for me- through every thick and thin. I can't imagine my life without him the part of him.

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Zara's POV

Loud thumping voice colloids with my ears. Like a jerk, my eyes snap open. I gaze around the room with a dubious look. My heart is pounding like it has been on a marathon for decades. My whole body is damped with sweat.

I sit up with caution, my body is still trembling. My eyes are teary; perhaps I have been crying for real. I rub my eyes in an attempt to get fully awake.

Was it all a dream? How horrid it was!

My eyes go to the crashed pieces of the jug which has probably fallen and created the noise, inducing me to actually awake from the sleep. I tug my hair behind with my hands. I still remember every single happening and every single word of that dream. In fact, my mind is still occupied with the same three words- a terrible mistake.

Why am I feeling mitigation in my running breaths that it isn't real; it is a dream. He actually doesn't say it. But it doesn't matter when in the end, his answer will be more or less the same as this. I take a deep breath and wipe my face with the back of my palm. I will not let him hurt me. He has no right to first use my feelings and then mock them. And I will not allow him to take that opportunity.

My eyes roam to the window on the right side. It isn't covered by a curtain. Perhaps I have forgotten to close it last night. In the glassy slits of it, I can easily see the dark, faint surrounding giving me an idea that it's still night time. I may have barely slept for a few minutes when that nightmare awoke me.

Without permitting any other thought to invade my mind, I get up from the bed. I don't want him to think of me someone who can melt away with her emotions. When I know the probable aftermaths, then it will be dumb of me to still stay here. The coldness coming from tiles of the marbled floor seeps into my feet as soon as I lay them there, and from there directly hits my spine. I am about to stand up when something in me stops me to do so.

Should I think again? What if, what I am doing is overthinking? I don't even listen to his side of the story.

But! He loves someone else and if what just happened is normal for him, he wouldn't have left without a word. Despite listening to the same hurtful words by him, it's better to take a stand for myself.

I lick my lips in apprehension. I haven't thought living with him will be this overwhelming for me. Without further thinking, I grab my phone and bag and rush towards the door to unlock it.

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Assalam o Alaikum guys!

How are you?

I am back with another chapter. How is it?

What do you guys think is in Zara's mind?

And it was a dream lol. Some of the comments in the last chapter were so hilarious that I was laughing so much. That was the reason I didn't reply to some comments because I thought I would end up spoiling it.😂

This chapter has more Shaiq and Zainab's moment because I thought, why not? Lol. Actually, seriously speaking, in this Entangled tale, I just forgot to emphasize enough on how much they care for each other. So there is a little showcase of it in this chapter.

Sorry for no Zararmaan's moment. :(

I know this chapter is boring but what can we do?😂 It is important for the story.

Don't forget to vote and comment.

So till next update, Allah Hafiz!