Chapter : 59 - More Than Diamonds.

Hair? Done. Beard? Done. Suite? Check. Watch? Check. Perfume? Check.

As I looked in the mirror one last time, I couldn't resist saying "perfect" to my reflection.

It was around 7 in the morning, and I was already dressed and ready to step out, prepared to take the first step toward making her mine forever.

Mohtarma, what have you turned this Samir Farsi into? I couldn't help but say aloud.

Whenever I think about her, I'm filled with amazement that she said yes to me-she actually said yes to this idiot!

You've fulfilled your responsibility by crossing seven seas, Jaan. Now it's my turn to do something for you, for us.

Dressed in a black shirt, gray vest, and a perfectly tailored grey suit paired with grey trousers, I adjusted my hair one last time. After glancing at my watch to check the time, I grabbed my car keys, stepped out, and got into my black Mercedes.

Unlocking my phone, the sight of a white rose on both my home and lock screens brought a smile to my face.

So, my Mohtarma loves white flowers, I thought as I stared at the image of the single white rose which she gave it to me. This is the first thing I received from her, or rather this is the first ever flower I received from a woman.

Just as I was about to put my phone away, a call came through. A grin spread across my face as I saw the caller ID-it was Sahara. I'd even saved her name with that same white rose. I answered in a single ring.

"Assalamualaikum," I greeted.

"Waalaikum Assalam, Farsi," came her soft response. Her voice was gentle, calm, almost as if she had just woken up. Hearing her sweet tone melted my heart, especially since I'd grown used to her sharp words and taunting tone. This unexpected softness was doing something to me, before the day even starts my body gave up by her voice.

"What are you doing?" Sahara asked casually.

"I'm in the car, just leaving the house. What about you? Any plans?" I replied, eager to know every detail about her day.

"Just going to meet my friends," Sahara replied casually.

"Are you free in the evening?" I asked with hope. Please say yes, Sahara, I thought, crossing my fingers.

"Yes." She didn't disappoint me. A small smile crept onto my lips hearing her say yes to everything I wished for.

"Be ready at 7 then, I'll pick you up-"

"Are you ordering me?" she interrupted before I could finish my sentence.

"Me? Ordering you? Not possible in this lifetime, jaan." I quickly covered up, realizing my tone sounded like a command. I really need to get out of my CEO mode because I'm not her CEO-she owns my heart instead.

"So?" Her tone was back to her usual sternness.

"It's a delightful request, mohtarma. May I pick you up in the evening?" My tone was now calm yet appealing. I was sure it was enough to melt her.

"Why?" Amazing. She really knows how to frustrate me in seconds.

I mean, do I really need a reason to see her? I'm dying to see her, to just have her in front of me. That's the only reason.

"Want to see you," I finally framed my impatient thoughts into one simple sentence.

She didn't respond immediately. Maybe she's blushing? Or trying to control her blushing. Yes, those are the only two things she's an expert at.

"Let me think," she said, clearly testing my patience. And I don't have even a shred of patience when it comes to her.

"I'll wait for your response," I replied calmly, though my inner self was screaming at her antics.

Is this what I have to go through loving Sahara? My blood pressure out of control, fluctuating wildly. My heartbeat betraying me. My breaths uneven since yesterday.

I guess I'm drowning deeper and deeper in her love. The craziest part? She's dangerous too. And yet, I love her!

"Where are you off to now?" she asked, her tone suddenly shifting from stern to soft.

"To meet my parents," I replied with a smile, happy to see her genuine interest in my whereabouts. This was exactly what I wanted-a woman who considered me hers, who asked me questions like she had every right to, and in return, I would gladly answer with utmost loyalty.

"Give my regards to Uncle and Aunty," she said, her tone now cheerful.

"I will," I assured her, turning the car to the right.

"Alright, drive safely and call me when you get there," she instructed.

"And what if I don't?" Now it was my turn to increase her blood pressure, and I love it.

"Nothing, just when you come to pick me up in the evening, I'll be waiting with a vase in hand," she replied with a tone so serious and threatening that I knew she meant every word she said. And that's all it took from her side, I gave up.

The thought of taking a vase to the head wasn't appealing, so I didn't push my luck further. Instead, I promised to call her and ended the call.

Taking a deep breath, a smile crept back onto my face.

"You way more dangerous Sahara!" I exclaimed to myself.

But.....No matter how difficult she is, I'm ready to handle her. I'll just have to stock up on first aid kits and keep sharp objects like knives, scissors and especially those crazy pots known as vases far away from her. That's all I need to survive with her-wait, what am I even thinking?

Shaking my head, I calmed myself and tried to focus on driving, but her voice still echoed in my ears.

When I stopped at a signal, my eyes wandered, and I noticed a flower shop nearby. Among all the blooms, the white roses immediately caught my attention. I pulled the car to the side, parked it, and walked into the shop.

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Around 8 o'clock, I was waiting for the door to open.

A minute later, the door opened, and an incredibly beautiful face appeared in front of me.

"Samir? You're here? Weren't you going to meet Uncle and Aunty?" Sahara asked, surprised to see me there.

Aur mai jawab dene ke bajai usme kho gaya. Kya aurat hai! Jab bhi saamne hoti hai, mujhe bezubaan kar deti hai.

(Instead of answering, I got lost in her. What a woman-whenever she's in front of me, my words simply fail).

"Samir?" She snapped her fingers, breaking my trance, and I finally blinked.

"Tumhe dekhe bhagair kaise jaa sakhta hoon, Mohtarma?" I asked her in return.

(How could I leave without seeing you, Mohtarma?)

"Where do you come up with this stuff?" she asked with pointed gaze though her cheeks were reacting in different way.

"It comes naturally when I see you," I replied with a soft chuckle.

"You're crazy, Samir." This time, she laughed and blushed as well.

"What's that in your hand?" Sahara's curiosity was growing seeing me hiding my hands back.

"Flowers for you, Mohtarma" I said, holding out the white rose bouquet to her with a slight smile.

"Seriously, Farsi? Flowers? And you? Why?" Her reaction went from surprised to happy, a bit bashful, and then shocked, her reaction was expected, as I hated flowers, but guess what? Now I am love with the flowers.

"You like them, don't you? That's why," I said sincerely.

"Thank you," she replied, taking the rose and smelling its fragrance. Meanwhile, I kept gazing at her beautiful face. She was dressed in a simple white outfit with a dupatta draped over her shoulder. Her hair was tied in a bun, she wasn't wearing any jewelry, yet she was glowing more than the flowers. And why wouldn't she? After all, she's my Samir's, Sahara.

"What's in the bag?" Sahara asked, her sharp gaze falling on the bag in my right hand.

"Breakfast for you," I said, handing her the bag.

"Did you eat breakfast?" she asked, her voice full of concern, if felt as if my mom is asking me, she too integrates about everything.

"No, I'll have it at Ammi's place. Just make me a cup of coffee with your hands," I finally found an excuse to stay with her, even if it meant 2 minutes to see her, I would thake that opportunity too. Because I have no control on my eyes, they just want to see this dangerous woman, and right now she looked like a beautiful mess.

"Of course," she smiled.

"If your interrogation is over, can I come in, Mohtarma?" I asked, trying my best not to sound sarcastic, but Sahara was a master at putting me in my place.

She gave me a pointed look, flipped her invisible hair, and walked ahead of me. I blushed at her cuteness. I followed her inside with slow steps and sat on the couch in the living room.

In front of me, Sahara was making coffee. My gaze wandered to the open book and empty coffee cup on the table-she must have been reading something earlier. I then shifted my attention back to my Mohtarma, taking in every little detail of her.

Her face was clear, her slightly messy hair were just making her even more attractive, and her hands and eyes were busy making coffee. But amidst all this, I noticed one thing-her beautiful face radiated peace. Looking at her, I got my answer: this woman is my peace. And now, it's my duty to protect her.

I want to keep her close by marrying her as soon as possible. I want to see her smile, listen to all her worries, tease her, then make up to her. I want to go on long drives with her, hold her hand, and take peaceful walks together. That's all I want.

I have no other desires; I just want her by my side for the rest of my life. Nothing more.

"Coffee," her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. When our eyes met, I forgot everything else.

Sahara was about ten feet away, bringing coffee on a tray. As she walked closer, I found myself getting lost in her. It felt like I wasn't Samir Farsi anymore but a teenager seeing his crush and forgetting the world around him.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn't take my eyes off her. My gaze seemed to light up every time I looked at her, and I was amazed that the person I used to watch from a distance was now right in front of me, here with me.

"Drink it when it's hot, Samir," Sahara said casually, sitting in front of me and opening the bag I had brought with her breakfast.

I forced myself to look away, holding the coffee cup in my hands, but my attention remained fixed on her. Or rather, I wanted to notice every little thing about her.

She eagerly opened the bag and began taking out the boxes one by one.

"Why did you bring so much breakfast, Farsi?" she asked, placing the boxes on the table.

"I just bought whatever I thought you'd like," I replied plainly, taking a sip of coffee.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile.

"My pleasure," I answered.

"Samir!" she suddenly yelled a few minutes later, and my coffee barely escaped spilling.

"What happened, mohtarma?" I asked in a calm yet confused tone while controlling my heartbeat.

"I'm so shy, Samir. Please leave," she said, keeping her gaze fixed on the table, clearly blushing. My own cheeks turned red at her words.

"Then blush, my Jaan; you look even more beautiful when you do," I said with a playful smirk. At that moment, her eyes met mine, and there was no trace of blush on her face anymore. Instead, she gave me a pointed glare.

"Aren't you overdoing it?" she asked firmly, folding her arms.

"This is just the beginning, mohtarma," I said, winking at her while placing my cup down and standing up. Seeing me get up, she stood as well.

"Keep calling me thorough out the day," she said with hope in her voice. It wasn't a request-it was a command.

"Of course. And you take care of yourself, Sahara," I replied, looking into her eyes. It wasn't a command; it was a plea.

For a moment, silence enveloped us. Neither did she say anything, nor did I ask. It was as if all the questions and answers had quieted down. There was just her, me, and our silence.

I had never seen Sahara this close or with such intensity before. And today, as I looked at her, I couldn't feel anything but gratitude. The fact that she's in my life is the greatest thing for me. Nothing else matters compared to this.

"Bahut khubsurat lagh rahi ho," I said softly, without blinking, a gentle smile on my lips as I gazed at her.

(You look beautiful).

"Even in this state? I look good to you, Farsi?" Sahara placed both hands on her waist, her tone dripping with sarcasm. I was genuinely puzzled-why was she so angry today? Just yesterday, she had confessed her love for me, and today, her behavior was so different.

"You look incredibly beautiful even when you're a mess," I replied calmly, but her reaction didn't match my tone. Something was definitely wrong with her.

"Is everything okay?" I couldn't hold back anymore. My worry was growing, and the lack of a response from her only made me more impatient.

"Sahara," this time my voice was firm.

"I don't want to lose you again, Samir, and I don't think I'll recover if you leave me-"

"Tum mere liye meri jaan seh bhi zyada kimti ho, yaah yuhn kahu ki tum meri jaan ho, Sahara. Ab kaha hai dubaara kabhi mat kehna," I interrupted her. I knew it might be hard for her to trust me again, but I was ready to wait. I wasn't ready to give up, though, and I wouldn't let her push me away. There's no chance I'm leaving her now-not anymore. And she doesn't have the right to think otherwise anymore, either.

(You are more precious to me than my own life, or rather, you are my life, Sahara. Don't ever say that again).

"I'll see you in the evening," I said, trying to smile, though I failed miserably.

"Wait a minute," I stopped in my tracks as her voice called out from behind me.

"Yes, Jaan?" I turned around and saw her opening a drawer on the right side of the bookshelf.

Moments later, she walked toward me, holding a small black box.

"This is for you," Sahara extended the box toward me with the cutest smile on her face.

"For me?" I was genuinely flustered. The idea of her gifting me something was unexpected, and the thought of her doing so made my heart race like crazy for no reason.

Being an utterly impatient man, I began opening the box right in front of her. I noticed Sahara chuckling at my actions, and seeing her laugh like that made me nervous. For a moment, I forgot I was Samir Farsi-the man known for his shameless personality. Suddenly, was shy, flustered, and nervous in front of a woman!

You're truly driving me crazy, Mohtarma, I thought to myself, because there was no way I could say that aloud in front of her.

As I opened the box, a stunning classic watch with a modern touch caught my eye. Beside it, a brown piece of paper was neatly folded in a circle and placed inside.

"It's so beautiful," I couldn't help but exclaim, marveling at how classic the watch was.

"You like it?" Sahara asked, her voice filled with hope.

"It's amazing, Sahara," I said, holding the watch in my hand.

"But this isn't fair, Mohtarma. I'm the man here-I should be the one bringing you gifts. Tell me, what do you need?" I asked, placing the box on the table and waiting for her response.

"And I'm the woman here, Samir. It's equally my right to give you something from my side," Sahara said, her tone a blend of affection and defiance.

"You're so strange, Sahara," I blurted out, surprised by this new side of her.

"Less than you, Farsi," she retorted with a hint of mischief, and I smiled.

"Alright, tell me, what do you need?" I asked earnestly.

"You've already given me so much; that's more than enough," she replied with a gentle smile. But I didn't understand her words.

"What have I given you?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"The bouquet and breakfast," she said, picking up the bouquet from the table and inhaling the fragrance of the white roses.

"Is this enough?" I asked, my eyes resting on the watch she had given me.

"It's worth diamonds to me," she smiled, and seeing her smile, I got lost in my thoughts, she is weird, she is strange, yet she is simple, and her simplicity is just making me hers. And the only thing I would say is, she is not mine instead I am hers, my whole existence belongs to this woman.

What is this? I came here with one thought in mind, and she completely changed my perspective. Women are such an enigma-the more I try to understand them, the deeper I get lost in confusion.

She valued the flowers I brought for her as if they were more precious than diamonds?

Are woman this simple in love?

"Take care of yourself," I said, picking up the box from the table.

"Yes," she replied.

"And don't forget to have breakfast," I added.

"Okay," she said.

"Call me-"

"Are you leaving already?" she interrupted, lifting her gaze from the flowers and asking with firmness.

Her question made my face fall. I looked down with a pocky face, took watch and turned straight toward the door to leave.

"You're such a drama queen, Samir," she taunted from behind.

"Ab esi drama queen ko jhelna padega tumhe zindagi bhar!" I said with exaggerated nonchalance while walking.

(You'll have to put up with this drama queen for life!)

When I turned back, she was walking toward me.

"Take care on your way," her tone had softened.

"Yes, Mohtarma," I replied with a smile, glanced at her one last time, got into the car, and drove off toward my parent's house.

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🎄 Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas filled with joy, love, and lots of magical moments! 🎄

So here it is, my lovely readers-your first Christmas present! 🎁 Did you enjoy it? I hope it brought a big smile to your faces!

If yes, then don't keep your thoughts to yourself-head over to our beloved Mirsha and share all your feelings! Your excitement makes this journey even more magical.

And guess what? The celebrations don't stop here! 🎄 Your second present will be dropping this evening after 10:00 PM. Are you ready to dive into what happens next with our favorite Mirsha? The drama, the emotions, the love-it's all waiting for you!

Stay tuned and let me see all that excitement in the comments! Your support and love mean the world to me.

With love and festive cheer,

Your Author, Almas ❤️✨

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CHAPTER AESTHETICS :

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