Does it run in our blood to blow surprises every chance we get? Because as I try to endorse myself in the arena of codes, the chaos of my house unfolds.
I already had the idea that Ayan and Inaya were going to be together as Ayan seemed quite serious and different with her, but what I didn't assume was his direct announcement Infront of the family.
He even gave her Nani's pendant that Mami (Ayan's mother) secured for his wife. Ayan should thank a thousand times that his father wasn't there to witness this situation or else he would've faced the home court session.
Ayan stands Infront of the ruling ladies who were on the verge of explosion. Rayan is perching on the sofa with his forever stoic expression, Zaid is worried and constantly checking his phone for god knows what reason...me... I'm pondering ways to protect him, after all I'm his brother.
It's been two days, yet, the ladies thought today is best to confront Ayan. Classic SADAQA family.
Mom has always been the most cherished lady among us kids for her casual and frank behavior, Ayan's mom shares equal personality traits which also includes, her being extremely cautious of things that could result in displeasure of uncle Ayan. Speaking about Aunt Ayesha...then... She's not so favorite, while, Zaid's mom is also nice.
"What is it with these girls? First Maha, now Inaya? They're all after you boys." Aunt Ayesha breaks the silence, her voice dripping with disbelief. Rayan scoffs at her reply still focusing on the clock so that he doesn't miss his match.
I shoot Ayan a look, raising an eyebrow. He's grinning like an idiot, his face lit up like a kid on functions, completely unfazed by the impending doom.
"Can we just not tell Dad?" Ayan whispers to Ayzal and Mami, his voice low but urgent. "Like, ever?"
"Nope don't look at me I ain't medling" I mutter under my breath. His father, the most serious man alive. No one-and I mean no one-wants to be in the line of fire when Uncle's temper flares.
Ayzal, of course, is loving every second of this. "You're doomed. Absolutely doomed. I'm going to tell dad"
"Shut up, Ayzal!" Ayan hisses, clearly sweating now. "Please. don't tell him, okay? I'll... I'll do anything!"
Mami is watching her son with the faintest hint of amusement. "To unki bahu ka introduction kese karwaongi"
(So how will you introduce his daughter in law to him?)
Ayan's face brightens up. He may be my cousin and .... best friend.....in name but Inaya is my soul sister, if this shine that appears on his face after hearing name ever vanishes from his face, I'll break his bones.
Mom wraps her arms around Ayan and exclaims. "Inaya! I always knew she had a good head on her shoulders. I'm so happy for you, beta."
But Aunt Ayesha isn't having it. "This is madness! Inaya? The girl who called you Chichora two weeks ago? You have her mom's necklace"
"But she's dead now. May she rest in peace" Ayan habitual of uttering wrong things at wrong times, sensing that his dialogue wasn't taken positively he silences himself. "I'm sorry."
"I wish you had a different definition of madness" Rayan sarcastically mutters and leaves this discussion dismissing the offensive gaze of khala.
"I don't get these girls one of them has no shame and is dating my son, another secured my mom's necklace Uff ab Ahad koi bachi hai to Tum bhi dekhlo" Aunt Ayesha throws her worries as other ladies nods at her.
(Now if anyone is left than you can also jump in Ahad!)
I can't help but silently chuckle, "I was the first one to beg one of them to like me back" I mutter while glueing my sight to my laptop, so focused in my work that I failed to register the silence that came after.
As I move my gaze above the screen, I'm greeted with stunned expressions...well...did they take my deceleration in a wrong way? I'm aware of mom's notion without noticing her expressions while others are bewildered to know that I've committed myself.
"Ofcourse he's the eldest one so you won't say anything to him but me chota hu na mere liye to qayamat uthayi hui hai" Ayan dramatically rises from his seating position and strolls around the room, not before pausing midway to complete his dramatic speech, "Pyar Kiya hai gunnah nahi dekhlenge Abba huzoor ko akhir unhe bhi dada banne ka shauk Hoga" everyone in the room, even I can't help but laugh at his statement.
(But I am the younger one that's the reason y'all have created a scene out of this)
(I've loved someone and not committed a sin. I'll see dad, after all he would be wishing to become a grandpa)
His mother grabs her slipper which is exactly under her feet, and aims it on Ayan's head but like always teh boxer effortlessly dodges it.
Informing my senses that the current situation isn't ideal for me to crack codes, so I excuse myself to return back to my room.
After I find myself surrounded with the familiar walls of my sanctuary. I run a hand through my hair, half in disbelief at the whirlwind of drama Ayan just unleashed, and begin searching for my tech. My headphones, as usual, are exactly where I left them-draped carelessly on the edge of my desk.
I slip them on, letting the world and its chaos fade into the background, then settle into my chair in front of my laptop. The soft glow of the screen illuminates the dim room, casting familiar shadows on the walls.
My fingers begin to face on the keyboard as if they've memorized all the logics of algorithm which in a way they have.
Suddenly, My phone lights up, drawing my attention. It's a notification, probably another family message exploding over Ayan's antics. I sigh and glance at the screen, half-expecting some new drama.
But it's not that... it's her.
Without wasting any sec, I pick my phone and throw the headphones on the desk. I click the notification while spinning around on my chair like a lunatic. I guess it's not wrong to be crazy like this when your girl is messaging you.
The image fills the screen, and I chuckle despite myself.
She's standing at that place, our place. The exact spot we went to on our first date. It's a place hidden by the arms of bushes, through it you can get the beautiful view of the entire city. Yet the view's beauty seems to fade Infront of the lady grinning in my phone. Her bangs are slightly out of their place which indicates the breeze, her blue eyes reflecting the warmth and mischief, but it's her bare face that catches my attention....
A face bearing no powder, no tint just few freckles on a chubby face and her natural blush, gosh I can never get tired of her.
Ahad:
If your plan was to flatter me? Then
Ma'am I'm dead till now.
Hoor:
Uff Ahad. Do you remember this place?
Ahad:
Never forgot Hoor.
Hoor:
I knew I love you <3 FYI I was here to write a chapter for my book.
Ahad:
Yeah the chapter where your mafia male lead finds out that his arranged mafia wife was with him due to revenge? While he was surrounded by the police? Btw why are you alone?
Hoor:
Stop being such a green flag Ahad. And yeah I wanted to message you but you might be busy with your assignment... not like you'll be here in 20 minutes heheh jk
Ahad:
Will be there in 10 minutes along with some cupcakes you might be exhausted.
I pocket my phone, laughing softly to myself. She always knows how to pull me away, how to make the noise of the world quiet down without even trying.
Coding and everything else can wait but she should never.
I slip my sneakers to my feet and I head out with a smirk tugging on my lips. Devouring her favorite cupcakes together has been a ritual for us, she yapps about her books while eating and I listen. Initially I used to hate strawberry but now... I can't find a better flavor than that, why? Because my love loves them.
I reach our spot after grabbing the cupcakes in my way, as I walk through the passage way of bushes... I find her beautiful than ever.
She's sitting cross-legged on the grass, her laptop balanced on her knees, the sun catching the edges of her hair. I've been at this place several times before I met hoor but it's surprising how It never felt like home...but now it does.
I take a moment just to take it in, the sight of her so effortlessly at home here. She's lost in her work, completely unaware of my presence, and for a second, I hesitate to disturb the peace she's wrapped herself in.
I walk over quietly, and as I approach, the crunch of my footsteps on the grass makes her look up. A smile spreads across her face, soft and bright, as if she's been waiting for me all along.
"You're late Mr Sikandar" she teases, closing her laptop and making some space for me. I pat her cheeks as I settle down beside her, letting the cool breeze move my hair.
I lay the box of cupcakes between us, watching her ocean eyes twinkle with excitement, "I figured some cupcakes will make-up for it?"
She puckers her lips and squints her eyes while leaning close, pretending to be searching something in my eyes. "Kya dekh Rahi ho Meri jaan in Ankhon me tumhare ilawa koi nahi milega"
(What are you looking at my love? You won't see anyone else except you in these eyes)
I love how her skin turns into a shade of cherry whenever I say something in her adoration, she's so cute... How did I get so lucky to have her in my life?
"Good" she affirms while peering at the view to hide her blush, "anyone else can't even catch the sight of these eyes. I trust you"
I chuckle agreeing with her, I love you and I trust you are two different aspects of the same sentiment... When one declares that a person is swimming deep in an ocean while the other assures that this ocean won't drown them. This is what I want Hoor to experience beside me, that I'll never be counted among those who'll challenge her comfort.
Before I can proceed with our conversation, she grabs one of the box and opens it with bewilderment. As the cupcakes come in sight, she smells the delightful aroma of strawberry with her eyes closed, a mere sight of her fastens my heartbeat. For real what makes my heart beat is a beat named after her.
With a chuckle I take a bite of cupcake belongings from another box for I know that she won't share when it comes to her favorite treat.
After a moment she peeks into my cupcake probably wondering why mine has more stuffing then hers. "Ahad would you please give me that strawberry from your cupcake"
"I would give you my world Hoor and you're hesitating on a cupcake?" I feed her the strawberry while she's busy blushing at my comment.
Hoor brushes a strand of her ash brown hair behind her ear and begins yapping about the plot twist she thought of before sleeping hours. She remains oblivious to how I've been adding my cupcakes into her box as I know my girl loves them, I'll starve if it means to keep her happy.
She glances at my box, unaware that the cupcakes are sitting in her box now. With a soft smile, she purses her lips and hands over the whole box to me.
Here, you take mine," she says, her voice gentle, her eyes filled with concern. "You barely have any left."
I watch her with disbelief, but most of all with deeper love. Doesn't she see what she's doing to me? I can't define this surge of emotions, as I watch the golden shade of sunlight enlight the brown shade of her hair, as the wind touches her skin, as her eyes glimmers with concern for me is everything I need to live.
How serene is this moment, I was adding my food into her plate while she was ready to give me her box because I had less.
I shake my head, chuckling softly as I push the box back to her. "Hoor I'm full the cupcakes are in your box"
Her eyes widen in surprise, then narrow as she glances down at the box, the realization hitting her. "Wait... what?" She opens the lid and sees the extra cupcakes sitting innocently on top "Ahad Sikandar this is wrong!"
"Nothing is wrong ma'am you're the one who looks weak" I point at her skinny figure, "while I'm bursting here with muscles so my love you can have the food."
Don't get me wrong, I'm in love with her every phase but her weak figure will cause her health issues so I'm also striving to turn her healthy.
"Ahad look I'm already so chubby and fat"
"Ma'am please eat. Shaadi Karke aana mere paas hai na mujhe bus Tum har Haal mein achi lagti ho" I utter while pulling her cheeks.
(Eventually you'll come to me after marriage, and I like in every condition)
"Can't you stop flirting?"
"Not with you Hoor"
She chuckles and I feel my heart skip a beat, the sincerity in her voice wrapping around me like a warm blanket. "You know" I say, my voice quieter now, "I could sit here forever. Just like this. Watching the city, with you beside me."
She gazes at me, her eyes softening, and she leans her head gently against my shoulder. "That sounds perfect," she whispers.
I reach over, brushing her hair behind her ear again, my fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "You're perfect."
She lets out a light laugh, shaking her head. "If I'm perfect, then what are you?"
I grin, leaning in just a little closer. "The luckiest guy in the world."
Her laughter fills the air, light and melodic, and in that moment, I know I'd give up all the cupcakes in the world just to hear that sound again and again.
We didn't even realize when the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of purple and orange. The city beneath us flickers with tiny lights, like stars scattered across the ground, and the air grows cooler as the night settles in.
Hoorain's phone buzzes beside us, breaking the peaceful silence. She picks it up, squinting at the screen, and her eyebrows rise in curiosity. It's a video call from her group chat.
"Who's calling?" I ask, watching her expression shift from curiosity to concern as she swipes to answer.
"It's the girls," she says, holding the phone up to her face as the video connects.
On the screen, Ayra's face pops up first, sitting in their hostel room with Inaya beside her. Ayra's nose is red, and her voice sounds heavy, like she's been crying or is about to. Maha is in the background too, holding her phone up with Rayan peeking into the frame from behind her. He seems distracted, messing with something out of view.
"Ayra, what's wrong? Did your condition worsen?" Hoorain asks immediately, sitting up straighter, her tone laced with concern.
Ayra sniffles, rubbing her nose. "Hoor, you need to come to the hostel. I... I need to tell you something, ASAP."
Hoorain and I exchange a quick glance, the lightheartedness of earlier slipping away.
Inaya waves briefly from beside Ayra, her expression sympathetic but also concerned.
"We'll be there soon" Hoorain assures her. "Hold tight."
Before Hoorain can end the call, Maha pops up on the screen, practically pushing Rayan out of the way. "I'm coming Ayra you must've drank cold water or something nasty well no worries I'm bringing some medicines" she adds with a dramatic roll of her eyes, though her smile shows she's half-serious. I won't even ask why Rayan is with her.
Rayan peeks back into view, his usual scowl in place. "Maha, chup ho jao"
She shushes him with a hand in his face, grinning at Hoorain through the screen. "Just saying medicines will help"
All the girls forget about our existence when it comes to them, I know that for her the first place will always be secured by them and to be honest I'm happy with sec as well... Knowing that her girls with her even before I entered in her life.
Before y'all start on me that Maha! You were supposed to provide Rayan Khan with silent treatment, which I'm obviously going to after his match with Strokia university.
But right now? Right now, I'm standing in the middle of a roaring crowd with my ticket in hand, staring in awe at the gigantic field before me. The entire stadium is buzzing with energy, students from both universities are practically bursting with excitement. The night sky is lighting up with bursts of fireworks, colors raining down over the arena, illuminating the scene with electric energy.
This is Rayan's first international university match. My fake boyfriend, Rayan Khan, playing for our university's football team in front of thousands I'm excited-like really excited to see him play.
The field is massive, like something out of a movie. A huge screen towers over one end, showing close-ups of the audience, players warming up, and all the action happening on the field. The seats around the field are packed with people, waves of blue and white jerseys representing the schools, flags waving, chants echoing. The whole atmosphere feels... larger than life.
Ohhh the adrenaline Maha Aamir lovess!
I lean against the railings, my eyes scanning the field until I finally spot him. There he is, his figure unmistakable even from this distance. The same wavy hair peeking out from under his cap, those broad shoulders, and...yep...those honey-brown eyes. Even from here, I can tell they're as sharp and intense as ever, scanning the crowd. And when they land on me?
His eyes light up, just for a second, like he's surprised to see me here. I have to pinch myself to believe if he's really grinning at me... he's resembling a kid who has seen his parents while he's performing in a school.
He makes his way over to me, weaving through the crowd with the kind of ease only a football captain can pull off. His posture is casual, like this isn't a big deal at all, but I can see the tension on his shoulders, the focus in his step. And when he reaches me, the first thing out of his mouth is:
"What are you doing here, Maha?" His voice isn't low, gruff like classic Rayan but it's more like an excited one.
I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest with a grin. "I'm definitely here to support you! I mean this is your day I won't miss it for anything" I lean in slightly, teasing. "Also here to look at my hot fake Boyfie don't forget to wipe your sweat with your shirt, I've heard your abs are to die for"
He laughs... really laughs and I must...will say that his laughter is also to die for, "filters Maha filters." He glances away for a second, but I catch the faint smile still tugging at the corner of his lips. "You were supposed to be upset with me remember?"
"Oh, don't worry," I say, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'll get back to that after your match. But right now..." I gesture toward the field. "This is a huge deal, Rayan! I had to be here."
He chuckles under his breath, "you're wearing wrong jersey number" I can't help but grin wider than ever looking at him being so happy that I'm here.
"Umm what wrong?"
He points at the jersey I'm wearing, "my number is 07 and you're wearing 05"
That was cute ok... Never thought I'd see a jealous Rayan but Maha is known to push off people's masks.
I cross my arms over my chest after poking his head, "I don't like 07 number besides 05 is my birthdate so yeah"
He nods, trying to pretend he doesn't care about it at all but I know him better, he hated it.
"I don't need distractions," he mutters, glancing back at the field.
I scoff, nudging him lightly with my elbow. "Distraction? I'm your biggest supporter!"
He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. "Yeah, sure."
"Hey, I came all the way here, didn't I?" I add, tilting my head. "I could be anywhere right now, but I'm here. For you."
He offers me a cheeky smile and then does something unexpected, with a sudden movement he removes his cap and slides it onto my head "you're the only supporter I need"
"Ofcourse I'm what everyone needs" I say with a playful grin.
He shakes his head again, but this time, he doesn't hide the smile. "Alright, I've got a match to win."
"You better," I call after him as he turns to head back to the field. "I didn't come all this way, prepare victory expressions and slogans for nothing!"
As he walks away, I can't help but feel a little lighter, a little warmer. He might be grumpy, but beneath all that, I know he cares. And seeing him out there, about to take on the world, makes me feel a strange sense of pride.
Not that I'll tell him that, of course.
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
The crowd roars as the teams line up on the field, the atmosphere buzzing with energy. I can barely hear my own thoughts over the cheers, chants, and shouts echoing around the stadium. The lights illuminate the field, casting an electrifying glow over the players as they take their positions, ready for battle.
I clutch my ticket in one hand, standing at the edge of my seat with a grin plastered across my face. This is it. Rayan's big moment. The teams are now facing each other, lined up in their respective formations. My heart beats a little faster as I spot Rayan amongst his teammates, his tall frame standing out, looking as serious and focused as ever.
But then...like he senses me...he starts scanning the crowd, searching for something... or someone. His honey-brown eyes sweep over the audience, and I hold my breath for a second. And then, he finds me. The moment his eyes lock onto mine, his whole face softens. That familiar light flickers in his eyes, brightening his whole expression, and despite the chaos around us, it feels like he's looking only at me.
I can't help but smile, and before I know it, Rayan lifts his hand and winks at me...yes, winks...and then, with a casual, confident grin, he flashes me a thumbs up. It's like he's silently telling me, I'm going to win this for you.
My chest tightens with excitement, but just as I'm about to respond, I hear a high-pitched squeal behind me.
"Oh my God, Rayan just winked at us!" One of the girls a few rows down practically screams, clutching her friend's arm in excitement. "Did you see that?!"
I roll my eyes so hard I think I might strain something. Fan girls. Of course, they think that wink was for them. Typical. Huh? Why would Rayan wink at anyone else? It took him months to wink at his own girlfriend.
Without missing a beat, I mutter just loud enough, "My boyfriend winked at me." I make sure to emphasize the boyfriend part, flashing them a little smirk.
The girl shoots me a glare, clearly not pleased, but she doesn't have time to respond because the referee's whistle cuts through the air, signaling the start of the game. Everyone's attention snaps back to the field, including mine.
I settle into my seat, my eyes glued to Rayan as the players kick off. The match begins with a burst of energy, both teams pushing hard right from the start. The ball moves swiftly from one side of the field to the other, players weaving in and out, dribbling, passing, strategizing.
Rayan moves with grace and power, controlling the ball with precise movements, his focus sharp, his body language radiating confidence. The crowd is on edge, cheers erupting every time the ball gets close to either goal. But my focus stays on Rayan. The way he moves, the determination in his every step-it's mesmerizing.
The game is in full swing, with Rayan moving through the field like it's his second nature. His steps are calculated, swift, and precise-an absolute powerhouse in motion. The ball stays close to his feet as he weaves through the defenders, his focus razor-sharp.
Suddenly, he breaks past the final defender, eyes locked on the goal. The crowd holds its breath as Rayan winds up for the shot. In one fluid motion, his foot connects with the ball, sending it flying straight into the top corner of the net-goal!
The stadium erupts into cheers, but Rayan barely reacts like he usually does-no celebration, no expression, just his usual calm. Until, of course, his eyes flicker up to where I'm sitting. Our eyes meet, and instead of the typical grumpy Rayan, I get a different look-a playful one. He chuckles, raising an eyebrow as if to say, Well?
And then, as if reading my mind, he gestures with his hands, asking me silently, How many more do you want?
I blink, completely caught off guard. Is he actually asking me how many goals I want? This is new. I laugh, shaking my head in disbelief, but I play along, lifting my hand and showing him five fingers. Five more goals.
Rayan's lips twitch into a grin, and he gives me that iconic look of his the one that says, Pagal larki. With a slight nod, he acknowledges my order as if to say, Yes, captain, and turns back to the field. My heart skips a beat as he jogs back into position, ready for more.
The crowd around me is buzzing, whispers of Rayan's uncharacteristic behavior filling the air. Girls are screaming his name, clearly in shock at how playful and different he's acting. Normally, he's the cool, stoic type...grumpy on the field, never celebrating his goals. But today, he's all charm, obviously because Maha the great is here.
The game resumes, and Rayan doesn't disappoint. Within minutes, he scores again, this time glancing up at me before the ball even hits the net. A sly smile tugs at his lips as if to say, That's two. You want more, right?
The commentator's voice booms over the speakers, "And it looks like Rayan Khan is on fire today! Another goal! And, oh-would you look at that? He's dedicating his wins to someone in the crowd. How adorable. Looks like Khan has a fan who's caught his attention tonight!"
Mr I'm his girlfriend the Rayan Khan is my fan.
The crowd erupts again, but I barely notice them. I'm too busy watching Rayan, my heartbeat drumming in my ears. His fan girls are losing their minds, completely floored by his change in behavior. One of them turns to her friend, exclaiming, "I can't believe it! Rayan's actually... celebrating?! Who is she?!"
I mean ok! My fake man is really handsome but that doesn't mean they'll scream this hard for him? Don't they have their men?
Am I jealous?
What if I am?
Fake ya Sacha hai to Mera, so kyun na hu mein jealous.
(Fake or not he's mine so I why won't I be jealous?)
Rayan's laughter echoes from the field, and I glance up just in time to see him staring directly at the camera. As the giant screen zooms in on him, he does something I would never expect. Slowly, with a cheeky smirk playing on his lips, he slides his sleeves up, revealing his forearm.
My breath hitches when I see the writing etched on his skin: "This player is taken by that beautiful girl in front."
Is he for real?! I gasp, my eyes widening in disbelief as I realize what he's doing. He's literally telling the entire stadium..no, the entire world-that he's taken by me. The screen zooms in, capturing the words crystal clear for everyone to see, and I can practically hear the collective gasp from the crowd around me. My heart races, pounding in my chest, and I can feel my cheeks heating up from the attention.
Half of the university already knew about our "relationship," but this? This is something else. He's not just announcing it...he's declaring it, boldly and proudly. And the worst part? He's completely loving my reaction, that cheeky grin growing wider as he catches my stunned expression. But we're fake? This is temporary so why is he doing this on a big scale!!! Rules are being broken!
Before I can even wrap my head around what just happened, Rayan's back in action. In a swift, powerful move, he scores yet another goal. The crowd erupts into a deafening roar, but he doesn't celebrate like a regular player. Instead, he sprints toward me, his grin wide and mischievous, and when he reaches me, he bumps his fist with mine like it's some secret code between us.
The crowd goes absolutely wild. Cheers, whistles, and claps fill the air as the stadium explodes with excitement. People are cheering for us, for Rayan, for the moment, and I'm standing there, caught in this whirlwind of emotions, feeling like I'm in a dream.
The final whistle blows, signaling the end of the game, and Rayan's team has won..they've qualified for the next round. The celebration around us is electric, with his teammates piling onto the field, but even in the midst of all the chaos, Rayan's eyes never leave mine.
He's surrounded by his team, fans, and reporters, but somehow, he pushes through the crowd. And when he reaches me, everything else fades away. Without a word, he scoops me up into his arms, twirling me around in the middle of the field. I let out a squeal, laughing as he spins me, his face glowing with pure happiness.
"You're better than any trophy," he says with a boyish grin, his honey-brown eyes softening as they meet mine. His voice is low and tender, making my heart skip a beat.
I chuckle, trying to play it cool, but I can't stop smiling. "That's because I am a trophy."
Rayan smirks, setting me down gently, but his arms stay wrapped around me. "My favorite trophy."
Before I can reply, he takes my hand and guides me toward the stage, where the trophies are lined up. The announcer calls his name for Man of the Match, and Rayan looks at me with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Go on, take it," he says, nudging me forward.
I blink, staring at him in disbelief. "What? No Rayan it's your trophy!"
But he shakes his head, pulling me closer. "Your rhino's trophy. You prepared slogans for me so don't feel shy Maha"
With that, I step forward, feeling the weight of the moment sink in. I reach out and take the trophy from the presenter, the crowd cheering once again as we stand there together. I lift the trophy high, and Rayan leans in close, whispering, "exactly five goals for you."
I chuckle feeling like a main character, this is the best day in my life!
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
I'm standing on the field, still holding Rayan's trophy high like I've actually won it, and he's there...grinning like a fool, phone in hand, snapping photos of me like a proud fake boyfriend. I feel like I'm in some kind of sports drama where the guy dedicates his win to his girl.
"Turn a little to the left," Rayan says, tapping his phone screen as he adjusts the angle. "Perfect. Now give me a big smile, you're holding a trophy for crying out loud."
I roll my eyes, trying to balance the heavy thing. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"
He chuckles. "What can I say? I was supposed to be celebrating with my team, but here I am, stuck with my fake girlfriend."
I gasp dramatically. "Haww! I'm your trophy, aren't I?"
Rayan tilts his head, that playful smirk never leaving his lips. "Well... yeah, that was to show the entire world, y'know."
"Yeah, yeah, shut up and capture a perfect photo!" I laugh, striking another pose.
He snaps a few more pictures, the stadium lights casting a glow around us as the last few fans linger. I notice his fan girls still loitering around, trying to sneak glances our way, but Rayan? He doesn't even care. He's acting like the happiest person on the planet.
Just as he's about to take another photo, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see Ayra's name flashing on the screen. Uh-oh. I immediately pick up, wondering if something's up.
"Maha!" Ayra's voice comes through, sounding urgent. "You need to come to the hostel room right now."
I frown, concern flooding through me. "Ayra? Are you okay? Did your health worsen?"
I can hear some shuffling on the other side of the line, and faintly, I catch the sight of Hoorain and Ahad on the screen. Inaya is with Ayra.
"I'm fine," Ayra replies, her nose still red. "But seriously, get here ASAP."
"I'll be there right now."
"Achoo!" I throw my hundredth tissue in the dustbin of our room. My nose is clogged, my throat feels like sandpaper and my head is pounding.
Since the day I left the SADAQA mansion with a heavy yet confused heart, cold stuck me like an unwanted relative. Fever accompanied with flu is the worst feeling ever...
I pull the blanket tighter around me, glancing at the mess of books and notes scattered across my bed. Two days. Two whole days I've been missing from university. My professors must be on the verge of writing my academic obituary by now. I can't afford to miss another day.
"This is a nightmare. I'm going to fail, aren't I?" I mumble, rubbing my nose as I glance at Inaya, who is perched on the bed beside me, flipping through her own notes like nothing's wrong in the world.
"You won't fail, Ayra," Inaya says, barely looking up. "Just rest. You need to get better."
"I've already lost two days of work!" I groan, throwing myself back against the pillows. "And you know how Dr. Butt is-he's probably plotting ways to fail me as we speak!"
"Dr. Butt will survive two days without you," Inaya replies, finally glancing up at me. "The real question is will you survive this cold?"
Before I can reply, the door swings open, and Hoorain marches towards me while holding a steamy bowl of soup.
"I'm not going to die am I?" I ask, my voice laced with fake frustration. The girls have been fussing about my health and taking care of me more than a doctor would.
Maha folds her arms, glancing at me and sighs dramatically. "Nope you won't die before killing your fiance"
Uhh don't mention his name before me. That day I didn't intend to invade his personal space, nor did I wish to hurt his sentiments...which I always do. However, it was the only time when Zaid's words managed to make me cry (guilty as charged). Ater our engagement, I thought he had begun to care about me...but the way he screamed at me was surely hurtful.
Ayra you are the one who hurt him badly.
Hoorain nods, adding a spoonful of soup in my mouth. "You're literally begging us to go out."
I huff, blowing my nose loudly into another tissue. "I swear if you stick here for another day and miss everything, I won't take a single medicine."
They're conscious about my health more than my mother, as I wasn't attending university for past two days.. these girls took off alongside me. But I won't let them compromise their daily routine for me, Maha is going out for Rayan's match and Hoor is going somewhere quieter to write her book, I ain't taking no for an answer.
"Oh, fine Ayra but promise you'll call us" Hoorain says with a concerned look.
"I'll survive. Unlike some people who hide their entire relationships from us." All of us direct our gaze towards the guilty Inaya. This girl literally came and have us a surprise out of nowhere that she's dating the playboy.
"Uhh guys I'm so happy I mean we don't even need to have an interview, we'll just spy on him but Naya he's great" Maha exclaims while hugging Inaya.
Hoorain nods eagerly, her wide eyes glued to Inaya. "I'm still curious how did it happen? But I'm really excited to imagine you, me, Ayra and Maha under the same roof only if your fake dating turns into a real one"
Inaya blushes slightly, throwing her hands up in defense. "Guys I mean I didn't know it was happening... We were just talking and out of nowhere he proposed under the rain..I'm.. I'm ready to trust him"
"Ayra?" I repeat, giving hoor a flat look "I'm never marrying that four eyed, rude and extremely arrogant Zaid"
Inaya shrugs, looking a bit sheepish. "Hehe as if"
Maha crosses her arms, leaning against the wall. "Just in case I've already practiced some moves for your functions so no you're not allowed to back off?"
"Haww shut up guys I'm sick and I'll puke if you take his name any longer" I protest.
Hoorain lets out a snort. "Ok ok we won't bother you but again I hope Ayan is loyal and serious with you"
Inaya rolls her eyes. "Yeah Ayra sent him a long paragraph threatening him that she'll chop him into pieces and then have a barbecue night with them if he even thinks about hurting me"
I chuckle at her "ofcourse I would and darling that's just a trailer I'd gladly throw him off the cliff... I hate him"
"Shut up!" Inaya laughs, throwing a pillow at me.
I sit up in bed, ignoring my own headache for a moment, and give Hoor a mock-serious look. "When are you both leaving"
Hoorain groans, clearly realizing she's not getting out of this one. "Yes ma'am but we'll come early"
"Bye Ayru" Maha says, while spinning around the room and swinging the door before leaving. "Don't miss me girls"
"Guys," I interject weakly, reaching for another tissue. "This is worse than handling Zaid"
We laugh, even though I'm half-serious. But somehow, being surrounded by them-my friends-makes me feel just a little bit better.
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
The soft hum of the city outside our hostel is the only sound, until my phone buzzes sharply beside me. I glance at the screen, my heart sinking when I see my mother's name flash across.
I swipe the call open.
"Ayra, you need to come home. It's urgent."
Her voice is sharp, curt even, with that undercurrent of authority she's mastered over the years. No warmth, no concern for the fact I've been sick for two days. Just commands.
I sit up straight, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. "What happened? Is everything okay?"
There's a pause, one that stretches out just long enough for the tension to coil tighter in my chest. "Just come home, Ayra."
I knew it. I knew she was up to something. I haven't been speaking to her properly for the last two days, and of course, she'd notice. But what she doesn't notice is that I've been sick, feverish, barely able to stand without feeling dizzy.
"Mom, I'm not feeling well-"
"Ayra, I said it's urgent," she cuts me off, her tone brooking no argument. "This isn't up for discussion. Come home."
I press my lips together, frustration bubbling up inside me. She doesn't care about my sickness, doesn't ask if I'm okay. Typical. It's like nothing matters unless it's on her terms.
I glance over at Inaya, who has been quietly watching me during the call, her brows furrowing with concern. "You can't go," she says immediately as soon as I lower the phone. "You're sick, Ayra. This is ridiculous."
"I have to go," I reply, shaking my head. "You know how she is. If I don't show up, it'll just get worse."
"Are you sure it's something urgent, though?" Inaya presses, standing up and crossing her arms. "I mean, it's not like your mom calls you with concern usually."
I laugh bitterly. "Exactly. Which is why I need to go. I need to find out what's going on. She's not happy with me right now. I can feel it."
Inaya steps forward, her face tight with disapproval. "You've been sick for two days, Ayra. You can't just run off like this."
"I'll be fine," I insist, sliding out of bed despite the dizziness swirling in my head. "I always have"
Inaya shakes her head, clearly not convinced, but she knows me well enough by now to understand when I've made up my mind. "At least let me come with you," she offers, a look of worry flashing across her face.
"No," I say firmly, grabbing my sneakers and slipping it on. "She'll get rude with you for no reason"
Inaya watches me for a moment longer, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Text me the moment you get there, okay? And if anything happens, call me."
I nod, knowing that if mom had called out of nowhere and made it look like an emergency then I'm on for something really unpleasant.
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
I push the door open, the familiar creak of the hinges echoing in the silence of the house. The smell of home...a blend of spices, old wood, and something distinctly sterile-hits me all at once. My head swims, the fever still pulling at me, making me weak, but I steady myself and step inside.
But what stops me in my tracks isn't the wave of exhaustion.
It's him.
My breath catches in my throat as I see my brother, Ali, standing in the hallway, casually leaning against the wall like it's the most normal thing in the world. Except it isn't. We don't see each other outside of Eid gatherings, and even then, it's fleeting. He's busy, always traveling, and working.
But here he is. Without any occasion. No reason.
He's my twin brother, the one my father prioritized over me and recommended mom to leave me in an orphanage. Despite that, Ali has never shown a hint of hatred for me, on the brighter side.. he has always been a great brother to me.
"Ali?" My voice comes out small, weaker than I'd intended.
His head snaps up, and his eyes soften when he sees me. That familiar warmth, the one I haven't felt in so long, spreads across his face. "Ira? What the hell are you doing here?" His tone is half scolding, half concerned, but I can hear the underlying affection.
"I... Mom called," I mutter, feeling a sudden wave of dizziness hit me again. "She said it was urgent."
Ali steps forward, his brow furrowing as he looks me over, taking in my pale skin, the dark circles under my eyes. "You look terrible," he says bluntly, his hand reaching out to touch my forehead. "You're burning up. Why are you even out of bed?"
I shrug, trying to brush it off, but it's hard to pretend when I feel like collapsing. "Shut up and stop acting older, I'm 10 seconds older than you"
"Mom shouldn't do this" he mutters under his breath, shaking his head. "Always pushing, never asking if you're okay first." His eyes search mine, and for a moment, I see the protective brother I've always known, the one who hated seeing me suffer.
"Why are you here?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper, too many questions swirling in my head.
"I'm here for you Ira" his voice is softer now, a quiet confession. "My sister is engaged now I wanted to congratulate you... Since I couldn't attend the function"
The warmth from his words should have comforted me, but instead, it only highlighted the absence of someone else...the person who should have cared, who should have been looking out for me all along. My father. The one who had always seen my existence as a burden, my gender as a failure. Who left me and mom because of my identity which I had no control over.
I hear footsteps from down the hall, and my stomach tightens. My father's cold, distant figure appears, his eyes sweeping over me with that familiar look of disappointment. No words, no greeting. Just that silent rejection, as if my very presence in this house was something distasteful.
My throat tightens, but I hold my head high, refusing to let him see how much it hurts.
Ali watches the exchange, his jaw tightening as he notices the way our father brushes past me without a second glance. His hand squeezes my shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity.
"Don't worry ira" Ali says softly. "He'll realize his mistake soon"
Ali's been living with our father since his childhood and me with mom after their divorce, he loves dad and I won't blame him for that.
I force a smile, though it doesn't reach my eyes. "I know," I say quietly. But the sting is still there, buried deep, a wound that never really heals.
Then my mother's voice cuts through the air, sharp and authoritative. "Ayra you're late c'mon your dad wants to talk to you"
Dad? Why does he want to speak with me out of nowhere? My heart is threatening to shatter into pieces but I won't give my father the satisfactory broken Ayra.
He abandoned me in a prediction that I'll transform into a burden for him right? That's my motivation to stand firm against his typical theories, I'll push my limits to prove him wrong by getting my names along with those successful males he looks UpTo.
Pushing aside the reality of my sickness, I enter the room and direct my gaze to the familiarly-unfamiliar man, I can't believe I share DNA with him. "Yes, father I'm here"
I settle down beside Ali and watch my father examine our lounge with his sharp grey eyes, yeah I got them from him. "You look unpleasant Ayra" that's the first thing that successfully made out of his mouth, now it's hilarious for me.
"Oh, sorry, Father. Should I inform you that I'm sick? Or is it that males don't become pale when they're sick?" I bitterly smile and I'm hundred percent sure mom is planning ways to kill me while cooking in the kitchen, Ali as always enjoys the exchange between us. One of the few things that I adore about mom is that she never meddles between me and my father, maybe because I always pass insulting comments and that somehow waters the burning fire inside her.
"I was just normally concerned" father runs a hand through his non existent hair and leans deeper into our sofa.
"Concerned about what, exactly? How I'm still alive and breathing? Or perhaps you're more worried about the fact that I'm a girl who hasn't just quietly faded into the background like you hoped?" Yups I can never talk normally with him, he'll say hello and I'll still have an insulting comment for that.
The air in the room thickens, tension wrapping itself around us like a suffocating blanket. My father's jaw tightens, his hand gripping the armrest as though it's the only thing keeping him from standing up and storming out. His gaze sharpens, but I don't flinch. I haven't flinched in years.
"Girls are a disgrace and a burden to families Ayra."
My lips curl into a smirk, he only has my gender to blame. "Disgrace? If being a girl is what qualifies me as a disgrace, I'd hate to see what being you feels like. Given birth by a disgrace, married and fell in love with a disgrace, sounds very hard father"
My father's nostrils flare. "You were never what I wanted in a child."
I tilt my head, my voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Good thing you don't get to choose your disappointments, right?"
He clenches his fists, his temper clearly rising. "You've done nothing but shame this family with your attitude."
My grin widens, I really enjoy being a stubborn girl, I literally forgot that I was on the verge of passing out. "Shame? Oh, I thought we left the 'disgracing the family' part to you after the divorce."
My father glares at me, his patience wearing thin. "Watch your mouth, girl."
I cross my arms, unbothered by his frail threats. "Funny, I was just about to say the same to you. But I guess respect isn't something you teach when you're busy abandoning your responsibilities."
The tension in the room thickens when my father stands up with a furious stomp, but me being me I walk towards him with the same attitude and stand Infront of him, matching his gaze.
"You need to learn when to shut up."
I raise an eyebrow, unflinching. "And you need to learn that your opinions stopped mattering to me the day you walked out."
That's when he snaps. His hand flies up, coming toward my face, but before it can connect, it's stopped mid-air, it never reaches me.
I stare down at Zoro, my white furball, who's currently sitting on the floor, his big black eyes staring up at me as if he understands every single thought racing through my head.
"No I wasn't wrong? Was I buddy?" I ask him, running a hand through my hair, feeling more conflicted than I ever thought I could over her. "I mean, I just... shouted at her. Maybe I crossed a line? But you have to agree that she was also wrong"
Zoro cocks his head to the side, as if he's considering my question seriously, which makes me huff out a frustrated breath. I grab the tennis ball from the corner of the room and toss it lightly in his direction. He ignores it, staying rooted to his spot, those eyes fixed on me. Sometimes I believe that Ayra has casted some spell on my buddy, he cares about her more than me!
"You're betraying me Zoro. I didn't mess up that badly" I lean down his level and point my index finger at him.
He lets out a soft woof and nudges my index finger as if telling me that I was the asshole here.
I groan, leaning back on the bed, running my hands over my face. "Uhhh... maybe I did. But can you blame me? She is always trying to push me down!" I mutter, though the words lack their usual edge.
Zoro jumps up onto the bed, settling beside me with his head on my lap. I scratch behind his ears, my thoughts wandering.
It's been two days. Two whole days since Ayra didn't show up to university. That's not like her. She never misses class. She's usually the first one to challenge me on every damn thing I say, especially when it comes to academics. But this silence? It's unsettling. More than I care to admit.
I hate to admit it, but I'm worried about her. Really worried.
I've been jotting down extra Notes for every class, keeping records of the extra curricular activities like an idiot just so that she doesn't miss anything in the meantime. I want to ruin her yet I can't bring myself to do that.
Zoro nudges at my engagement ring with her nose and then drags Ayra's infinity bracelet from my pocket, I Kno what he's referring, "Zoro! I won't apologize even if she's my fiance"
He wuffs!
"Zoro no"
He wuffs again
"Uhh fine you won but I'm still hurt by this betrayal"
Zoro's persistent gaze stays locked on me as if he's waiting for me to take action. I groan inwardly, my fingers tapping restlessly on my phone, debating what I should do next. I know I can't sit around like this, stewing in my thoughts, but showing concern for Ayra? That's unfamiliar territory for me.
"Alright, fine," I mutter, pulling up Inaya's number. Zoro perks up beside me, like he knows I'm about to give in. Thank God I have her number, I can't directly call the mother of badasses.
The phone rings for a moment before Inaya picks up, her voice light but curious. "Zaid? What's up?"
"Is Ayra at the hostel?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual. "I haven't seen her around for two days."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, then Inaya's voice softens. "No, she's not here. She's at home. She's been sick... didn't she tell you?"
I frown, my grip tightening around the phone. "No, she didn't. Alright, thanks."
Sick!!!
As in sick sick!!
I hang up, staring blankly at the screen. Ayra's at home. I can't exactly just go to her house. That's... crossing a line, isn't it? My thoughts spiral, but Zoro's insistent nudge brings me back to the present.
"She's at home, Zoro. I can't just show up there. What am I supposed to do, huh?" I ask, exasperated. But Zoro just tilts his head, his tail wagging ever so slightly, like he's urging me on, as if saying, Why not?
"What!?" I blink down at him. "How could I... I mean, it's not... normal. I can't just show up at her mom saying I was worried about my enemy fiance"
Zoro lets out a soft bark, almost like a protest, and I shake my head. "You're seriously asking me to go?"
He nudges me again, more insistently this time, and I groan, burying my face in my hands. "You're impossible. What kind of pet sides with the enemy?"
Still, I can't shake the feeling in my chest, the nagging worry that's been gnawing at me ever since I realized she wasn't around.
I push myself up from the bed, throwing my grey muffler over my shoulders. "Fine. Fine! I'll go. But this is on you, Zoro. If she throws something at me for showing up unannounced, it's your fault."
Zoro barks, wagging his tail, clearly pleased with himself.
With a deep breath, I grab my keys, my mind racing as I head toward the door. "I can't believe I'm doing this," I mutter to myself. But despite the protests in my head, my feet move on their own, leading me out the door, toward Ayra's house.
This was definitely not how I planned to spend my evening.
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
It's surprising that the main door of Ayra's home is left opened. Were they waiting for my arrival or what?
I debate with myself, whether I should go inside or not but now that I'm here... I should probably go in there. I adjust my grey muffler and pull my black turtleneck closer around my neck. Might as well step inside.
The warmth of the house contrasts the chill outside, but something feels off. I knock, but there's no answer. Just silence. Frowning, I push the door fully open and walk in cautiously. As I step into the hallway, I hear something-a muffled noise from the lounge. A commotion.
I quicken my pace, my senses on alert. What's happening?
Then I see it. Him. Some guy standing too close to her, arm extended, reaching towards her. Towards Ayra.
Rage detonates inside me like a bomb. Before I can think, I stride forward, grab his wrist in a vise grip just before his hand touches her.
"Touch my fiancée again, and I'll burn this house down!" I snarl, my voice low and dangerous.
I jerk his hand and turn back to see Ayra.
He recoils, eyes wide, stammering something, but I don't hear it. All I see is Ayra, pale and weak, leaning on the couch. Her forehead glistens with sweat, her nose red, and she's coughing violently.
I shove the guy aside, my rage momentarily forgotten as I make her sit on the sofa. Kneeling beside her, I reach out, placing my palm on her burning forehead. Fever. She's burning up.
"Damn it" I mutter, my anger mixing with concern. She looks like she hasn't slept in days. Her breaths are shallow, and she's struggling to speak between coughs. I hate myself for not caring enough.
Without another word, I pull off my muffler and wrap it around her gently, feeling her shiver under my touch.
Clenching my jaw, I turn towards that man who dared to touch Ayra. Within a moment, Ayra's mother stands with confused stare along with another boy of Ayra's age. But I don't care about anyone all I see his a home where my girl wasn't safe.
"Is this how my fiancée is treated here?" I demand, my voice like ice, slicing through the air.
Her mother shakes her head quickly, her expression shifting from confusion to concern. "No, not at all! We would never--"
"Who are you, Mr.?" her father's authoritative voice cuts in, stepping forward with a frown.
I straighten, meeting the older man's gaze with steely determination. "I'm Zaid Mirza, the man your daughter is engaged to."
The tension in the room thickens. I can feel Ayra's brother's eyes widen, but I don't waver. I glance back at Ayra, who looks frail and exhausted, and I feel an urge to protect her intensify.
"And no one treats Mirza like that" I continue, my voice dropping lower, edged with urgency.
Ayra looks up at me, her eyes shimmering with defiance, and I can see her frustration boiling just beneath the surface. "I don't want to stay here for a minute!" she declares coldly, pushing herself off the couch.
"Ayra!" I call after her, but she storms out, and I feel my chest tighten.
Turning back to her family, I add, "If she cries, she's never coming here ever" My tone is unyielding as I nod toward the intruder, who looks lost and defensive.
"Zaid, listen" Ayra's mother begins, but I'm already following Ayra, needing to catch up with her.
I dash after Ayra, as she walks down the street not caring about anything. As I match her stride while she walks sulkily, I notice the red shade covering her face and the way she's trying to hold back her emotions.
"Haww itni SI naak pe itna gussa Ayra?" I affirm while matching her steps, hoping that she'll fight with me again...but she doesn't. Why am I acting cringey?
(This much anger on such small nose?)
"I'm not angry at all, I'm habitual of all this you know I don't even care about my father anymore" she bitterly chuckles while rubbing her arms with her hands.
I move in front of her without a word, and for the first time, she fails to make eye contact with me. I like the fiery, savage and always ready to fight Ayra... I want her to fight with me.
"Itni choti SI larki hoke itna Kuch andar Liya Huwa hai? You don't need to act strog Infront of me Ayra... You can let it out I promise I won't judge"
(You're such a small girl yet gathering this much inside you)
She meets my gaze with watery eyes, and just like that, a punch lands on my chest. "Why did you shout at me?" Her voice breaks as she hits me again, her punches causing no serious harm but I'm glad she's letting it out"
"I'm sorry" I affirm accepting each one of her attempts to hit me.
"Why do you act like this with me?!"
"I'm sorry"
"Why you didn't ask if I was fine or not!"
"I'm sorry"
With the last punch and her last sob I pull her and gently engulf her in my arms, letting my shirt soak her tears. I gently pat her hair and whisper, "I'm sorry for everything bacha please wipe your tears"
"I..m.. sorry Zaid"
The words spill from her lips like a floodgate opening, and I feel her body trembling against mine. "I've never been happy," she admits, her voice shaking. "I've blamed you for something you never did. Not a single day went by that I didn't feel guilty."
"Please, Ayra, you don't have to..."
"I did all this, Zaid, because I've always been known for my grades. I don't know what I am if not an academic achiever. I'm really sorry! Please forgive me, Zaid. I can't handle this."
Her words slice through me like a knife. The pain in her voice is palpable. "My father always hated me for being a girl," she continues, her voice breaking. "I had to prove him wrong. Even my mom wants that. That's why... I'm sorry. I'm pathetic."
My heart aches, and I feel tears stinging my own eyes as I wipe them away furiously. I embrace her deeply, feeling her vulnerability sleep into my skin. All the anger and desire for revenge I'd harbored toward her and her family evaporate in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming urge to protect her.
How is it that seeing her like this makes me willing to leave everything behind? I hold her tighter, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the warmth of her body against mine.
"I...I forgive you," I say softly, the words barely escaping my lips.
I'm screwed up.
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
Hey guys I hope y'all are doing fine and well.
This chapter felt like a roller coaster ride.
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Also, do you guys find it boring or difficult to read long Chapters? As the chapters exceed 10k words so let me know.
Finally!! There misunderstanding is cleared ð felt like a burden off my chest but... Already warning that it's still going to be a slow burn for Zayra.
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