"Can people who hate you, ever love you?"
"People who hate you might specifically be the ones who love you."
Sequel of the book 'Under That Niqab' with a complete different story, but there will be few references.
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The echoes are hidden,
Am I in a...
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๑ 🥀 ๑
A force unseen, like magnets' sway, Guides me closer, day by day, This sweet connection, An enigma, pure affection.
Is it attraction, deep and true, Or familiarity's gentle hue? A name unknown, a feeling pure, Within my heart, it shall endure.
I wonder if this feeling, needs a name, Or if in silence, we're the same. Perhaps, I'll simply let it be, For this unnamed one, you see,
Has grown within my heart's embrace, A feeling tender, full of grace.
_yumi
She scratches her name at the end of the paper and closes the book.
Taking literature as the major doesn't seem too bad, she thinks. Because that way she would be able to improve her vocabulary in writing.
She only writes for just one person, about the very person. He was her muse. So she would keep him alive and around her through her works.
Several moments of silence pass by with her looking into the nothingness of her surroundings when a voice cuts through, the voice of her mother calling her to help with the laundry, shattering the moments of peace. She gets up carrying the book to her room before heading to her mother.
๑ ❥ ๑
"Shazal," his mother's call interrupts him wheb he is sitting in the living room with Amaan, engrossed in their group studies. He rose from his seat, urging his friend to continue working on the problem they were solving.
"Yes, Ammi?"
"Ask your father if I should bring dinner to his room," she instructs him, her focus on transferring food into dishes.
"Ammi why do you let your husband show tantrums, just ask him to come here and eat?!" Shayan feigns a little annoyance munching on his chip. A hand comes flying on top of him and he flinched but it landed on his neck without much force. Thank god!
How could he forget his brother was here?
"I-I was.. just kidding bro" he stutters winding with a laugh. Shazal looked at him, his eyes holding a warning? Perhaps. It was just so stern that Shayan had to bite his tongue and stay quiet.
"Have you had your dinner?" Shazal inquires his mother.
"I will, with your dad. Now, go ask him."
Shazal nods and proceeds to his parents' bedroom, hearing Shayan continuing the complaint from where it was left earlier.
"So..we were talking about, why should you wait for him to get back home until you have your dinner. Don't you ever get hungry?"
He sighs.
His father had gone into the bedroom about five minutes ago, as he approached, he overheard him having a conversation with someone.
"...one last warning, and then let him be. But keep tabs on him. I want every detail about where he is, what he's doing, and his intentions," his father's voice carried a note of seriousness.
