© All copyrights belong to StarsAndMoon1447 on Wattpad

*

Rohaan Rehan Tariq

I am a flirt, and that's an undeniable truth... Well, it's only something that can be denied in front of my parents.

Yet, it must be clarified that there's a difference between being a flirt and a playboy. I don't go around breaking girls' hearts and serial dating. No. I smile at girls, giving them the exceptional charm of Rohaan Rehan Tariq.

I am well aware of my good looks, but I don't boast about them. I have a sense of arrogance about my family wealth, but I don't show anyone down or look down on anyone because of that.

I got home after football practice and slammed the front door shut as I kicked off my muddy boots. "Assalam Alaikum!" I called out.

To my utter surprise, Ifra Emaad came skipping out into the foyer. "Walaikum Assalam! There you are! Just the person I was looking for!"

"You were looking for me?" I looked dubiously at her.

She smiled angelically at me, her blue eyes glinting and with her straight black hair curtaining her face. "I need to write a sports' article for my journalism course, and Haya Appi isn't home."

"So, I'm your unwanted backup option?" I asked.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures." She shrugged.

"Usually, when asking for someone's help, you don't go around dissing them."

"You reek." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Take a shower, and then we'll talk."

"I didn't agree to help you."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I guess I'll tell Anabia Khalla to let Haya Appi know that I need her since you refuse to help."

"You cunning little..."

She smirked. "Come on, Ro. You know you're soft hearted, so why all this acting?"

"Have you sworn to be an ultimate pain in my a**?"

"Language, Rohaan!" Mama appeared in the doorway of the living room.

"Assalam Alaikum." I greeted her, walking over to kiss her cheek.

"Walaikum Assalam. Why do you tease everyone so much, Rohaan?" My mother did not look impressed.

"Because it's fun?" I grinned.

Ifra rolled her eyes again.

"Help her our, Rohaan." Mama warned me before heading back inside.

"What's in it for me?" I directed my gaze at Hareem Khalla's daughter once again.

"Do something without selfishness for once. That inner sense of satisfaction will be your reward."

"Nah. I'd rather have something more materialistic." Chuckling, I headed up the stairs. "I'll see you downstairs in a bit, and then we'll talk." Yawning, I made my way down the hall before throwing my bedroom door open. Pulling my shirt off, I tossed it onto the ground before heading straight for the bathroom.

After a nice shower and changing into clean clothes, when I returned downstairs, Ifra was sitting on the living room sofa, chatting with Mama.

"Stop boring my mother." I teased.

"Rohaan." Mama gave me a warning gaze.

Ifra smirked at me.

I sat down on the armchair and narrowed my eyes at the girl. "What do you want?"

"Talk football with me." Ifra took a notepad out.

And so, I helped her with her article. She eagerly asked questions, and I found myself answering them without further teasing. She seemed like she had a good potential for being a journalist, I couldn't deny that. She was very pretty, and I couldn't deny that either. But I didn't allow my mind to go that way. Mama will be furious if I thought about Reem Khalla's daughter like that. She was very protective of Harris and Ifra, the way she was about Shayaan the Bunny.  

Once Ifra left, Mama gave me a lecture about being nicer to her.

"Ifra and Yamna need to learn how to take jokes."

"You need to learn to be nicer."

"Mama, I just mess around with them. They need to toughen up. This world is a cold, dark place. If they can't handle my teasing, how will they survive the reality of the world? It's like someone being unable to sleep in a tent in their own back garden, and yet expecting to be ready for camping in the wilderness."

"I don't need your life lessons. All I need is for you to be nicer to them." 

I sighed, jumping up to my feet. "I'm just gonna head out for a bit."

"No, you're not. Papa wants to talk to you." She took the TV remote and started flicking through the channels.

"He's home?" 

"No, but he told me to make sure that you don't go out anywhere." 

I sighed again. "I'll be up in my room then. I'm sure Yamna complained about something again, that little baby. And whatever she says, Papa believes blindly."

"Does she ever lie?" She questioned, knowing the answer very well.

"No." I admitted, begrudgingly.

"I'll call you when he's home." My mother said, without moving her gaze from the TV.

*

"Are you serious about university?" My father questioned me as he stood in the living room, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I want a degree, but it takes a back seat in my life." I shrugged.

"What do you want to do in life?" He continued interrogating me.

"I want to play football professionally." 

"Any backup plan?" 

I glanced at my mother, almost instinctively. It was a childhood habit. Every time Papa told me off for something, I looked at my mother, almost as if I needed her to stand up for me. 

And, of course, she spoke up. "Rehan, what's going on?" 

"If he needs to achieve something in life, he needs to become more mature and responsible, Anabia." Papa glared at me. "You are twenty now, Rohaan. Grow up." 

"What happened?" Mama looked at me, puzzled.

"I got a call from the university, and apparently Rohaan is on a final warning." Papa explained. "He got caught doing graffiti with his friends by one of the campus guards, on the wall of one of the university buildings." 

"It was just one time, Papa. I didn't even know they were going to do it, and when they did, I couldn't stop myself."

"Can you explain the meaning of 'final warning'? Because to me it implies that warnings have been given before." 

"Rohaan..." Mama looked at me in disapproval.

I bowed my head, ashamed. I didn't want to embarrass them or humiliate them with my behaviour. I guess I had come under 'peer pressure' and had just followed what my friends were doing.

"Rohaan and his friends have to pay a fine to cover the clean up charges incurred to the university to remove the graffiti. You have fourteen days to pay the fine, Rohaan, otherwise you are potentially facing suspension." 

My gaze still on my ground, I mumbled, "I don't have any money left. I spent it all." 

"I just gave you some more two days ago!" Mama looked at me, wide-eye. "And it was quite a decent amount."

Papa looked at her sharply. "Didn't we both agree that we need to give them a certain amount just so that they can understand the value of an earning?" 

"I convinced her, Papa." I spoke up. "It's not her fault." 

"That brings me to the next topic." My father spoke quietly. "You need to find a job, albeit a weekend, part-time job. We're not going to be those parents that hand everything to you on a silver spoon. Hoor has already found a job, Ma Sha Allah, and Haya is applying to galleries as well. I feel like you need to start as well, if it helps you steer away from these wrongdoings. Even Arsal got a summer internship, Ma Sha Allah." 

"It won't give me time for football." I glanced at Mama as I spoke.

My father's tone softened as he spoke this time. "Rohaan, we are not stopping any of you from achieving your goals- as long as it's all halal and legitimate. But there's also a practical side of life, one where a person needs to learn to be mature and responsible. You can go for your goal o being a footballer, but don't forget the other important things in life. A job teaches a person a lot- responsibility, time management and organisation, amongst many other things."

"What if I apply for a job at a local sports' club or something?" I suggested.

"Why not? As long as your earning is halal, we'll be proud of you."

"Great." I then looked sheepishly towards my mother, before looking back at him again. "Before you get mad at her, remember how many times you've shown leniency to Hoor and Haya." 

He reached out and lightly pulled my ear. "And how many times have I shown you leniency, you forgot that?" 

I grinned.

*

Arsalan Rehan Tariq

I sat in the Tube, my headphones on, trying to distance myself from the hustle and bustle of the daily world.

An elderly woman got on with a walking stick, and I looked around. All the seats were taken, and people were too absorbed in their books/phones/tablets/newspapers to notice her. I stood up and offered her my seat, giving her a soft smile.

"Thank you, dear." Returning my smile, she sat down gratefully.

"No problem." I replied, holding onto the rail in the centre of the aisle.

I got off the train at my stop and headed up the stairs to the exit towards the road that led to my university. The wind ruffled through my hair as I walked towards the building, minding my own business.

And then suddenly, I saw a bike coming towards me speedily, and I stepped out of the way just in time, my heart rate suddenly increasing. I turned to glance at the culprit, and stopped when I saw that she had stopped as well, glancing over her shoulder at me. Almond eyes stared out at me from under the black and purple helmet, and her chestnut brown hair was in a braid that rested comfortably on her back.

"It's nice to pay attention to the world sometimes, Aslan." She, as usual, referred to me by the name of the lion in The Chronicles of Narnia.

"Are you trying to run me over to teach me a lesson?" I raised both eyebrows at her.

Tahira Anwar got off her bike to look at me. "Have any of my lessons ever worked on you?" 

"I'm getting late." 

"That's always your excuse." She blew a bubble and rolled her eyes. "Learn time management, along with paying attention to the world, Aslan." Grinning, she got back on her bike and rode off.

I stood there, cheeks warm and looked around as if to see if anyone had noticed this interaction. Feeling a strange warm feeling inside my chest, I continued making my way towards the building, a small smile on my face.

I'd met Tahira on the first day of university, when I'd ended up sitting down on the only empty seat in the lecture hall, and she was right in front of me, wearing a pink cap, with her hair in a braid. I'd dropped my pen during the lecture and as I'd retrieved it, I'd banged my head hard against the wooden slab that was placed in front of the benches, as a substitute for tables. It had been loud and hard enough to capture her attention, and she turned to look at me, blowing a bubble as she did so. 

"First day, welcome lecture, and already banging your head in frustration? What are you going to do for the next three years?" She'd asked.

We weren't friends, just classmates. But somehow each interaction with her amused me. From the moment I'd told her my name, she'd never called me Arsalan, always 'Aslan'.

*

Ya Allah, please give my parents good health and long lives, first and foremost, but also my siblings. Please give Hooriya Appi everything that makes her happy and what's good for her. Please help Haya Appi achieve her goals, as long as that's what's good for her. Please protect Rohaan, and keep him away from harmful and dangerous situations. Ameen. I made my dua after Maghrib prayers that day, as I prayed between my father and brother in the mosque.

As we started to make our way out of the mosque, I noticed a very elderly man sitting on a chair at the corner of the main prayer hall. His head was in his hands and he was sobbing, his shoulders shaking hard. I let my father and brother continue on, while I made the way to the man. "Are you okay, Uncle?" 

He looked up at me, his eyes brimming with tears. "When the heart is overwhelmed, the eyes fill up as we plea to Allah for peace, beta." 

"Whatever it is, May Allah make things easy for you. Ameen. But even when humans don't support us, Allah is right there with us. He is the Best Support that we can have." 

He stood up, wobbling a little as he used his walking stick for support. "You are a compassionate boy, I can tell. Ma Sha Allah. May Allah shower you with his Mercy and Blessings. Ameen." He ran a hand over my head. "Don't ever let anyone take this light away from you, beta. No matter how dark the times seem, we should retain kindness, compassion, and a strong sense of humanity." 

I nodded. "Just keep me and my family in your prayers, Uncle."

"When you show kindness to someone, as you have shown to me, dua comes out automatically." The elderly man again ran a hand over my head. "May Allah give you happiness and success in abundance, and may He shower his blessings on your parents for raising you as you are. Ameen. In this house of worship, amongst the crowd, you are the one who noticed the tears of an old man. Trust me, beta, never underestimate the reward of kindness. It always comes back to you in one way or another."

"Arsu!" 

I turned and saw Rohaan walking up to me. When I turned back around, the elderly man was walking away, led by the arm by a stern-looking man.

"Where did you disappear off to?" My brother followed my gaze. "Who's he?" 

"Just a reminder about the importance of kindness and humanity." I muttered almost to myself.

*

Hooriya

I arrived at university, feeling excited. It was nostalgic being back here, even though it hadn't been long since I'd left. First I was a student, and now I was going to be a lecturer here, In Sha Allah!

Wearing black professional trousers and a dark magenta blouse with a black blazer, I gazed at my reflection in the small vanity mirror that I always carried along. My hair was in waves, left loose and pushed back by a thin hairband. I'd chosen to wear simple black flat pumps, because I knew that it was a large campus. I'd even advised that my appearance could be smart-casual, nothing too formal.

I headed into the old Victorian gothic-style building. On the inside, it was modernised, and was a complete contrast of its external façade. I headed towards the lift, glancing down at the office number on the invitation email that I'd printed out.

As I stepped into the lift, a student also came inside, and he tossed me a look from head to toe, a small appreciating smile appearing slowly on his face. I ignored him and looked at the notices on the walls of the lift instead. I almost sighed with relief as the doors opened on my floor and I stepped out. Following the signs on the wall, I headed to the office of the lecturer who would be training me. I knocked on the door lightly.

A few moments later, the door opened and a woman with blonde curls peered out at me, her green eyes blinking questioningly at me.

"Hello, are you Ms Brooklyn?" I asked, nervously. "I'm Hooriya Rehan, and I..."

"Oh, right. Of course." A warm, welcoming smile appeared on her face and she stepped aside. "I'm Lena Brooklyn. Please call me Lena." She held out her hand.

I shook her hand and as I stepped into the office, I noticed a man sitting beside her desk, reading the blurb of a hard cover book. He had longish brown hair, and was wearing blue jeans a soft-looking black long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. His hazel-eyed gaze looked up at me as I entered.

"Hooriya, this is Mohib Naveed, a colleague of mine." Lena explained. "Mohib, this is Hooriya, the alumni of this university, who will soon be a lecturer with us."

The man stood up, a soft smile appearing on his face as he held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rehan." 

"Please call me Hooriya." I shook his hand, confidently. "It's nice to meet you too."

"It's lovely having someone new on the team, Hooriya." Lena said. "Especially a female." 

I smiled politely.

"I'm sorry to ask this incredibly cliché question, but you look familiar." Mr Naveed said. "Have we met before?" 

"Not that I can recall, I'm afraid." I admitted.

He looked deep in thoughts, as if he was trying to figure something out.

"Ignore him." Lena rolled her eyes. "Come on. Let me introduce to the life of being a lecturer."

Mohib Naveed excused himself, while for the next couple of hours, Lena showed me around, even taking me to empty lecture halls to get me a feel of what my professional life would be like.

"Your former lecturers have praised you greatly." She told me as she walked us to the staff 'restroom', which consisted off two whole floors of seating area, with the upper floor including a canteen with hot foot and plenty of hot and cold beverages. 

"English had always been my favourite subject, so I always worked extra hard on it." I explained, my cheeks warm from the praise. 

I felt excitement build up slowly inside me as I realised that I was finally about to take the first step towards the career that I'd wanted for a very long time. Haya and Rohaan used to teased me that I was too boring, but nevertheless, my entire family had supported me in this. 

As had Farhaan. 

The thought of his name sent my heart on a wild rampage, pounding hard against my ribcage.

As Lena talked to one of her other colleagues while grabbing coffee, I took a seat at one of the tables and looked around at the large bright room. The windows that lined the wall looked out onto the stunning grounds of the university. I felt so happy that it almost seemed like a dream. 

*

When I got home, Haya met me in the foyer. "Quick! Freshen up and change! We're about to have a pizza party and we'll be watching horror films!" 

"Who's 'we'?" I asked.

"You, me, Ro and Arsal, duh." She rolled her eyes and headed upstairs.

"Okay!" Smiling, I ran upstairs and quickly freshened up.

Half an hour later, the four of us sat in various positions in the living room, selecting a film.

"So, how has zindagi been for you nutters?" Haya asked, biting into a slice of pizza.

*Zindagi: life.

"I got into a s**tload of trouble with Papa." Rohaan replied. "And then I got Mama in trouble because it was revealed that she gave me extra pocket money."

Haya and I simultaneously scoffed and exchanged a look before bursting out laughing.

"Puh-lease." She said. "If he says anything to Mama about it, then that's hypocrisy, and our Dad is anything but a hypocrite." 

"Just save the money like I do, and you'll never have to ask them for more, hence causing conflict between them." Arsal spoke wisely.

"Makes sense. That's why he didn't say much about it because he knew that he was guilty of the same." Rohaan nodded like he'd finally understood a difficult maths equation.

"Creepy doll." I muttered, staring at the screen. "Let's watch this one." I don't know why but I enjoyed films about creepy dolls or dummies. 

"Doll? I thought that was Haya!" Rohaan joked and immediately received a cushion on the face from her in reply, as Arsal and I burst out laughing.

We watched the films and ate pizza, with Rohaan occasionally making jokes, and Haya commented about how cliché something was. Fortunately, the film wasn't very good, otherwise I'd have been annoyed at my siblings for talking so much.

"Yo, Behaya, pass me a slice." Rohaan called out as we paused so that Arsal could have a bathroom break.

"Yo, Badrooh, you have legs. Use them to get the slice yourself." Haya shot back.

*Badrooh- poltergeist.

As the two argued light-heartedly, I scrolled through my phone, pretending like they didn't exist.

When Arsal returned, we continued the film, but nobody was focused on it. Haya was apparently having a conversation on her WhatsApp group with her cricket team. Rohaan was also scrolling through his phone, and Arsal seemed to be shopping for books online. 

I decided to go to bed. I'd been up early because I'd been excited about the day. 

*

I was getting a mocha at a café close to the university and I was waiting by the counter for the barista to prepare my coffee. There was a mid-morning student rush, and the service seemed a little slow. Today, I had to go to university to submit my final paperwork, including the contract, and to have a Staff ID made.

"Hooriya?" 

I turned and was surprised to see someone completely unexpected. "S-Sophie?" 

Farhaan's ex-fiancee was standing a few feet away in line to order coffee. She gave me a warm smile.

"H-How are you?" I asked. Was that a silly question? I had no idea. To me, it was just a formality.

"As anyone would expect me to be, but it's okay. What happened must be for the better somehow, right?" She gave a one-shouldered shrug.

I had no idea how to reply to that. 

She approached the counter to order and I got my order in the meantime. I waited to the side until she came to me with her order.

"So....ummm... how are things with you?" I asked. Where is my brain when I need it?

Suddenly, she narrowed her eyes at me. "He didn't tell you, did he?" 

"Didn't tell me what?" I was confused.

She sighed in exasperation. "When is he going to learn?" She gave me a small smile. "I wish you all the best, Hooriya." 

"But, what do you mean? What didn't he tell me?" Something occurred to me. "Is this something to do with why you guys...?" Shut up, Hoor. Please.

"Is my existence just to make people realise the truth?" She placed her spare hand on her hip. Wearing high-waisted jeans and a long-cream blouse, along with bronze-coloured high-heeled court shoes,  Sophie was elegant and chic. You would expect someone as exceptionally handsome as Farhaan to marry someone like her. "Hooriya, it's not my place to tell you the truth, but you're a very smart person, Ma Sha Allah. His heart was elsewhere, that's all the hint that I can give you."

"He betrayed you?" The naïve me asked, unable to believe that. Farhaan is not a cheater! No! Absolutely not. No part of me was willing to believe that.

"I wish. Things would have been much easier. But perhaps that's why I hold no grudges, because he was honest with me." She said. "There's that line in that ghazal that is perfectly applicable here, 'bichadne waale main sab kuch tha, bewafai na thi'." 

*"The departed might be anything but disloyal."- poem by Naseer Turabi, also famously used in the OST for the drama 'Humsafar'.

"I don't know why he's still delaying things, after everything." She took a sip of her coffee. "Hooriya, don't make the same mistake as him." With a light wave of her fingers, she headed out of the café, leaving me staring blankly after him.

"His heart was elsewhere..."

Where?! A strong wave of jealousy washed over me. Who else was in his life?

*

I couldn't focus on anything that day. I tried, but my mind kept returning to the conversation I'd had with Sophie.

So when Aizah Appi called me to meet her for tea at the Rose Luxe B&B, I agreed immediately. I didn't know why; it wasn't like I was going to confront Farhaan about this new discovery.

I got out of the Uber and looked up at the beautiful building. Farhaan had really put in a lot of hard work in this, Ma Sha Allah. He didn't want to be a CEO of a luxury chain of hotels; he preferred to focus all his attention on this one place.

Aizah Appi was waiting in the reception for me, and we greeted each other warmly. "How are you, Hoor?" 

"Alhumdulillah, very well. How are you?" 

"I am well as well, Alhumdulillah. Congratulations on your new job, Hoor! We're all so proud of you." She said, leading me towards the large expanded conservatory, which was the dining area of the B&B. We sat at one of the tables by the window from where we could see the beautiful rolling hills. Aizah Appi raised a hand to wave a waiter over.

"Thank you." 

"It's my treat for your job. Order whatever you'd like." She told me.

I ordered a slice of maple-pecan pastry and a cappuccino, while she ordered a latte and a slice of carrot cake.

Aizah Appi looked at me quietly with her blue-green eyes. Her brown hair rested over her shoulders in soft waves. The entire family had really good genes, Ma Sha Allah. "So, Ma Sha Allah, you have the job that you wanted. What else have you planned? Anything related to marriage, or no such plans? Either way, I'm not judging, you know that." 

I stared at my hands on the table. "I don't really know. I haven't really thought about it." Yeah, apart from the hundred million fantasies that I've created in my head about my parents and Farhaan's parents arranging a picture-perfect wedding for us, and Farhaan miraculously falling hopelessly in love with me, and with us living happily ever after.

"Do you like anyone?" She asked, gently.

I looked up at her, pursing my lips together. Yeah, your twin brother. And I don't just 'like' him. I'm beyond like. I'm in the far depths of the realm of love, in an irrevocable state.

"Consider me like a big sister, Hoor. Tell me. I won't tell anyone." She reassured me with her calm and soothing voice.

"What I feel..." I paused, not knowing how to word this correctly. "It's one-sided, so it doesn't matter." 

"Who is he? Anyone I know?" 

I chickened out, shaking my head. I could have sworn that I saw a disappointed look in her eyes, but I was probably seeing things.

"My advice? If you feel that this could be serious, talk to your parents about it. They are such mature, reasonable people. They'll find out about this boy and judge things. If you're ready for marriage, of course."

"It's nothing like that, Aizah Appi. As I said, it's one-sided. I'm nothing to him but just another person that he has to be friendly to." 

"I'll not press you on this anymore." She smiled at me again. "You're just about to start your career, and I wish you the best in that." 

I smiled back at her. We chatted over our coffee and dessert for over half an hour, and it was nice. Aizah Appi was sweet and understanding, and it was so easy for me to talk to her. I knew that even if I told him about my feelings for Farhaan, I could trust her to keep it a secret. But that was one topic that wasn't easy for me to openly discuss with anyone, let alone Farhaan's twin sister.

She glanced at her phone and winced. "I have to excuse myself. I have a zoom call due in a few minutes. But it was lovely catching up to you. If you wait about twenty minutes, I'll drive you home."

"No, it's okay, but thanks. I have to go." I said as we both stood up. "And it was nice to catch up to you too." 

She gave me a hug. "I wish you all the best over all, Hoor. You're such a sweetheart. I find it hard to believe that your feelings could be one-sided for anyone. Only a fool wouldn't appreciate what a gem you are." 

"I can't resent someone for not having feelings for me, Appi. It's not something that can be helped. It's not really up to us."

She walked me out, before hurrying back upstairs, probably to Farhaan's office where she often crashed for her own out-of-office work.

I headed out and began to order an Uber, but almost being in the country area, the network connection had a tendency to misbehave a little. When I finally got through, it stated that the cab was eight minutes away. "Great. Might as well have dinner here." I paced around, and yes, a part of me was hoping to catch just a glimpse.

Ugh. Get a grip, Hoor. You're a lecturer-to-be. You need to remain focused on planning ahead, on academics. 

"So, I can be an empowered woman and also have a crush." I was mumbling to myself.

Crush? Are you being delusional again?

Five minutes later, and the Uber driver was still eight minutes away. I sat down on the front steps of the B&B. But then I remembered something.

<Hooriya:  When will my car be fixed?>

I missed my car. I missed the freedom. 

There was a notification on my screen to say that the driver had to cancel my ride, and that Uber was searching for a replacement. "For the love of..."

<Farhaan: Tomorrow, In Sha Allah.>

<Hooriya: It better be. I feel stranded without it.>

<Farhaan: Is that why you're sitting on the front steps of the B&B?>

Surprised, I looked up and when I didn't see him around, I glanced over my shoulder up at the house. I knew exactly where his office window was. He was standing with the window open, his phone in his hands, and a corner of his mouth lifted up in a smile.

The notification ring made me glance down at the phone again.

<Farhaan: Need a ride?>

I resisted the urge to smile as I typed a reply. Well... I typed and deleted and typed and deleted and typed...

...and deleted again.

<Farhaan: An essay for a simple 'yes or no' question. You truly are a writer, Hoor! 😁>

I looked up at him just to roll my eyes, before glancing down at my phone again.

<Hooriya: No thanks. I have booked an Uber already.>

Well, technically I requested one and was still waiting after one cancellation by a driver.

My phone buzzed and I saw the Uber driver confirmed...for twelve minutes.

<Farhaan: Your expressions say it all. How long?>

<Hooriya: Just twelve minutes.>

<Farhaan: Just?! Come wait inside then, at least.>

<Hooriya: It's okay. It's nice out here.>

<Hooriya: 💅🏻 *nail paint emoji*>

I'd meant to send the tree emoji beside it, to indicate nature. Before I could even unsend it, I saw that he'd already seen it. I heard his laugh all the way down here, and I blushed hard.

<Hooriya: What? What's so funny? It means I'm chilled enough that I might as well paint nails out here, because it's so nice.>

Wow. What an excuse, Hooriya.

<Farhaan: I know that we have a nine years age gap, Hoor, but who are you fooling with that?>

I looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. He returned my smile and my hear somersaulted.

<Farhaan: Want something to eat or drink, at least?>

<Hooriya: I already had coffee and a pastry with Aizah Appi.>

<Farhaan: You can have more. Consider it your own place, don't be shy.>

Those words made me inhale sharply. I looked up. The sound of the gentle breeze ruffling the tree leaves nearby, combined with the chirping of the birds provided a beautifully soothing atmosphere. The view of him standing in the window, smiling down at me, complete the utter perfect scenario that was surrounding me. Beautiful sounds, beautiful sight, beautiful feelings.

<Hooriya: Think about it long and hard. Once I accept something as my own, I don't let go.>

Before I could think about the message, I sent it. I saw him read it, before he looked up at me with a different kind of expression on his face. 

<Farhaan: To qabool karlo na...>

*Then accept it.

Our gazes clashed, the intensity obvious even through the distance between us. Thousand emotions ran between us, and in those moments I realised what it meant when someone said that 'love needs no words'.

Suddenly, Aizah Appi appeared next to him, raising her eyebrows as she looked at me first, then her brother. She tapped his arm and asked him something as he turned to look at her. I dropped my gaze and kept it lowered, monitoring the progress of my ride home on my phone screen.

A few moments later, I looked up once again, but the siblings were not in the window anymore. I felt my tensed body relax, and I prayed that the Uber driver suddenly broke all speed limits to reach here. Just as I finally felt calm again, the front door opened.

"Hoor..." 

I looked up with wide eyes.

*

 I thought you guys should get an insight on Rohaan and Arsal as well.

Do you think Aizah senses the truth regarding Hoor's feelings?

Mohib Naveed... new character? 🤔

Tahira?

Well, for once the ex was being nice, and gave Hoor a major clue, but would Hoor understand?

Thoughts on Rohaan?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!