Farrah stepped out of her bathroom, her skin still damp and warm from her shower. On her bed her outfit for Mahira's mehendi was laid out. She stood at the foot of her bed, as she looked at the outfit while she dried her hair. The traffic was going to be horrible on a Friday night. She really wasn't looking forward to it, any of it; the traffic, the back-biting between the ladies, the match-making, all of it.
There was a time when she used to adore attending weddings; the anticipation of wearing her new outfit and enjoying the festivities at weddings. Her favourite memory if she had to choose one, was watching her mum get ready. Farrah smiled as she fingered the champagne gold sequins on her kurti. Even though Farrah would be fully dressed, she would lay down on her mum's bed and watch her put her makeup on. How she would carefully select her jewellery, making sure it all properly matched. And the smell of her perfume; roses, it was always some variation of it. After her death, Farah still attended weddings that her family was invited to, but the older she got the more the enthusiasm for it had dulled.
Getting dressed, Farrah sat down at her vanity and switched on the lights that were attached to her mirror. It was only 6.00 o'clock in the afternoon but it was dark out. Heaving a sigh, I can't wait till spring, she thought.
Rubbing some styling and heat protection product into her hair, Farrah started by sectioning her hair. Picking up her curling iron, she started from the back wrapping her hair around the wand and holding it for a few seconds. She repeated this mechanically as she worked her way through the mass of her hair. And she couldn't stop thinking about Richard and what happened on new years day.
It wasn't the first time she had been asked this question, if she was being honest. She had been interviewed by whom she thought could be her future mother-in-laws, and even by the men themselves. She had ignored the question and rejected those matches. She was prepared for them to ask her questions like that, expected it even. But from Richard, she was blindsided. She never would've thought that it would even matter to him, but it did.
And funnily enough, she'd understood why he asked her. Even on the day of. It was never about her, or her being a virgin or not. It was about him, and how he associated his worth directly with being the recipient of her physical affections. It hurt her feelings though, she won't deny that, but she knew the internal voice that kept telling him he wasn't worth her affections was doing more damage to him.
It did her head in, whenever she thought about it. Why did she tell him the truth? She could have left it unanswered, ignored it. She should have ignored him too, especially after how he had left things between them. He walked out of the kitchen and straight to her balcony standing in the cold for a good 30 minutes until his driver arrived. He left with a, "I'll call you." And that was the end of that day. He did call, he did say his 'Sorry's' and she accepted it for whatever it was worth. But it still rankled her, and it was tearing her up inside.
As badly as Farah wanted to confide in Charlie, she knew that it would somehow get back to Richard. Ben, as it would seem, was disgustingly loyal. Although, it was a sentiment that she respected and wished Charlie had more of. She saw how Richard was with him, with everyone who he worked with really; he treated them with respect and care. So much like you would do with family. And growing up surrounded by staff, one would suppose that the people who work with you do tend to become a surrogate family.
Inhaling deeply, Farrah held her breathe before releasing it in a rush. She repeated it a few times in an attempt to centre herself. Picking up her long hold L'Oreal hairspray, she aimed it at her hair and sprayed liberal amounts onto the curls to make sure it held throughout the night. Setting the hairspray down, she flicked her hair over her shoulders and picked up her foundation brush. Tapping on the handle lightly as she looked at her reflection, she decided that for tonight, she would do a dewy look with a subtle sparkle on her eyes and her favourite red lip.
With a small smile on her lips, Farrah started dabbing the foundation on her skin.
***
Rich knocked on the door as he tapped his foot waiting for Farrah to answer the door. To say that he was irritated was just putting it mildly. He still couldn't believe that Farrah had texted Ben regarding their project. Our project, mine and Farrah's, he thought possessively. Insecurity had suddenly started trickling into his mind; like a trail of ants slowly ingesting his confidence, taking it with them for their Queen. As he raised his arm to knock again, the door swung open and he was greeted by Charlie's smiling face.
"Hello, Rich," she said melodiously. "Alone today? What have you done with my man?"
"Your man? How is he your man? You've only just met!" Rich said gruffly.
"Someone is grumpy," Charlie said knowingly.
"He'll be up in a bit," Rich answered ignoring Charlie's comment. "Where's Farrah?" he asked as he tapped the file on his thigh, seemingly agitated.
"Farrah, Richard is here," Charlie hollered as they walked into the flat and Charlie took a turn and went into her room. Rich stopped in front of the mirror in the hallway and couldn't help but to examine his reflection. His black pants and suit jacket still looked alright, but it had lost its crisp sharpness. His black shirt too looked rumpled. His coppery hair had lost its shape from his careful styling and there was a 5 o'clock shadow on his jaw. He looked well and thoroughly mussed, like he had been dragged through a long day â completely unwilling.
"Well, you look like shit," came Farrah's voice and as he turned to look at her, he felt his heart skip a beat. She looked like a vision, walking towards him in a pale gold tunic top that reached her knees and a pale white silk skirt that swished and swirled around her feet as she walked towards him. No, as she floated towards him, he gaped. He realized that his was the first time he had seen her with her hair down and in full Pakistani attire.
She held her dupatta in one hand and a pair of earrings in another. Stopping a few feet short of Rich, she carefully draped her dupatta on the chair and then walked over to the mirror, standing in front of Rich, about to put on her earrings.
"Farrah...you look...,"Rich breathed unable to finish his sentence.
"Super Pakistani. I know," she rolled eyes.
"Different," Rich said shaking his head. Beautiful, enchanting, dreamlike, he continued in his head.
"How come you're here? Where's Ben?" she asked looking at him through the mirror.
"Well, isn't Ben Mr. Popular tonight," Rich answered sourly.
"That's because the lovebirds were supposed to 'Netflix and chill'," she said as she pretended to shudder in disgust still struggling to get her ear rings on. "Charlie hasn't had a holiday since her shifts started."
Almost immediately Richard, felt appalled at his behavior. He was acting like a sullen, jealous child. He was being a horrible friend; how else could he describe his jealousy of Ben's fast developing relationship. Taking a deep breathe he looked at Farrah and watched as she struggled with the earrings. "Come on, give it to me," Rich nudged her.
"What? The earrings?" She asked incredulous.
He took them from her hands and moved closer to her. Slowly he pushed her hair back and gently pushed the ear ring into her lobe, making her gasp in shock. The little bits of skin that he was touching was rapidly heating up while her eyes couldn't seem to leave him. Fixing her hair, he moved to the other side and repeated the same action. He couldn't seem to help himself and buried his nose into her hair and inhaled deeply. He felt her quickened breathing and his grip on her arms tightened. He wanted to badly run his hands up her arms, to feel the soft expanse of skin exposed by the boat neck of her collar. But Rich knew that whatever spell that had rendered her speechless and immobile will break the moment he moved.
"You are so incredibly enchanting Farrah," he whispered.
The front door slammed shut and Farrah jumped out of his reach and whirled around to face him. Her chocolate brown eyes luminous but full of confusion as she continued looking at Rich. There was a chorus of 'sorry's' but it fell on deaf ears as they both couldn't take their eyes off each other. Farrah's phone rang breaking through the silence and she answered, "Assalamualaikum Dad, yes I'm ready. I'll be down in a bit."
Rich watched Farrah go about collecting her things in silence. Farrah picked up her gold clutch, slung her dupatta on her left arm and tried to put on her heels, all while feeling frazzled. Rich discreetly took out his phone and snapped a photo of her as she attempted to put her heel on.
"How you seem to get dressed every day without my help is beyond me," Rich said with an eyebrow raised as he gracefully sunk to the floor on one bended knee. He patted his thigh, "put your foot here," he commanded. He looked up and found Farrah staring at him again, incredulity painted all over her beautiful face.
Gently he picked her right foot up and slid her foot in the shimmery gold and black heels. As he placed her right foot down to lift her left feet, Farrah lost her balance and immediately grabbed Rich's shoulders. Her hair swung forward engulfing him in a mixture of heady scents.
As Rich slowly placed her feet on the ground, he lightly brushed his fingertips against her ankle; smiling to himself as he heard a shuddering intake of her breath. He looked up and automatically moved his hands to push her hair back, likening her hair to crumpled silk between his fingers. Rich's smile grew bigger as he realized that Farrah was so lost in the present that she didn't realise her phone was ringing.
"Your phone's ringing," he whispered smilingly. Snapping out of her daze, she quickly answered her phone, promising to be downstairs in five minutes. Without looking back at Rich, she rattled out, "Just leave the folder on the kitchen table. Or pass it to Charlie so that she can put it in my room. Bye Charlie. Bye Ben."
Rich leaned on the door as he watched her walk away, hips swaying, skirts swirling and sequins glinting in the dark. As Farrah reached for the doorknob he called for her, she paused; "Have a good evening, love," he said in an almost husky voice. Biting her lip, she just nodded, not saying a word as she left.
After the door closed Rich leaned his back against the wall and screwed his eyes tightly shut. As he opened them, he was faced with a smug looking Ben and an amused looking Charlie.
"You broke so many rules tonight, Rich," Charlie said.
"I know," he sighed sagging against the wall.
"You're half in love with her already," Ben stated.
"I am," Rich sighed again.
"They're matching her up with someone tonight," Charlie said slowly, waiting to see the Prince's reaction.
"Who's they?" Ben asked confused.
"Her aunt, to be specific; Farrah calls her Choti Khala. It's her mums younger sister," Charlie muttered still watching the prince as he fisted his hair, rubbed his eyes and then shook his head as if trying to bring some clarity to his muddled mind. If she had to guess, she would say that he probably looked as tired as he felt.
"Will she agree to this...match?" Ben all but shouted.
"I uh...I don't know," Charlie said softly, suddenly regretting sharing this bit of information with the prince.
Still leaning against the wall, Rich massaged his temple as his heart continued beating frantically, now in fear of Farrah being with someone else; "She's going to be the death of me."
***
Alright, alright...a brand new chapter an hour before Friday ends. Phew!!
Guys, anyone following Harry and Meghan in Australia? I am dying o we how adorable the both of them areððð
Anyways, does anyone find it harder to edit things that have been written way in advance? This chapter was written ages ages ago, and I pretty much edited it to death. I won't say I'm completely satisfied with how it is now but yeah, it's the best I could do for now
So please, vote, comment, and share!!!
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