Saira Malik
The vehicle came to a skidding halt at the gates of Muqam-e-Ibrahim. Getting down from the passenger seat, I pull open the trunk of the car gathering the bags of our newly bought clothes.
"Make it quick, Saira! I'm getting late!" Emad stressed from where he sat in the drivers' place.
"The least you can do is help us take all of them inside in one go." I huff, taking as many as I can then groaned. "Allah, they're so heavy!"
"Give them to me." Jumping in my place, I gasp at the sound. Swirling around to see Fahad standing right in front of me. His strong scent wafted through the few inches of space between us. The evening sun shone brightly against his skin, making his eyes glint.
"Hitler." I panted, suddenly out of breath. "What are you doing here?"
"Bags first." He says, leaning down towards me.
"I've got them. It's okay." Making a vague attempt of creating space between us and stepping back, I trip over my feet ready to hit the ground when I felt a pair of strong arms around my waist. Keeping me in place, while pulling me towards him. My arms wrap themselves around his neck. In reflex.
"I've got you." Gazing into his dark brown orbs, I gulp. My heart rammed against my chest for various reasons. First, I was about to land flat assed on the ground. Second, I was way too close to him with the tip of our noses brushing. Third, I felt myself melt under his grip and his gaze and turn into jelly. Last but not least, I didn't feel one bit awkward. I was comfortable like I belonged there, which is concerning.
Pfft. . .
Slowly, he unwraps his hands from around me after I stood on my feet and lets me go. And suddenly, I missed the warmth. I missed the warmth he provided. Reaching forward, he takes all the bags and starts heading inside.
"Bhaiya, mere paas bhi bags hai." I hear Maryam say to him. Turning his head he chuckles at her, offering his hand.
(I've got bags too!)
"Mazakh karri thi Maryam. It's okay, she got it. Hai na?" I shoot her the smile that meant nothing else but shut up.
"Haa." She muttered reluctantly, following Hitler's suit.
"Beghairat." I mutter, elbowing her.
"Mein beghairat? Aur tum to itni der Fahad bhaiya ki baaho mein the so, wo kuch nai? Aur wo bhi bahar road pe. Ye nai ke ander jainge, privacy mein thoda. PDA jo karna tha! Meku baatan sunare!"
"Jaan boochke thodi giri mein! It was an accident."
"Ha!" Flashing me a smirkish teasing smile, she walks past me. Carrying the bags with her she disappears into her room, leaving the two of us in the living area. I watch as he puts the shopping bags on the floor by the couches before turning to look at me.
"Ab poocho,"
"Kya?"
"Yehi ke, what am I doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" I ask, trying not to smile.
"Mein yaha Junglee billi se milne aaya tha."
"Mujhse? Kyu?"
"Miss karra tha na mein." I stood there frozen, gaping at him with parted lips.
"Huh?" Was all I could utter.
Missing me? Ab iska kiya matlab hua bhai?
Banda usey miss karta hai jisse uska kuch ho. Dost dost ko miss karte, aashiq apne mehboob ko, husband apni biwi ko. Matlab koi connection, koi rishta, kuch to hona na miss karne. Humara kiya rishta hai?
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Hona Tha Pyaar ✔
Humor"I was on a goddamn vacation in this God-forsaken place. I never meant to get engaged to you. I never meant any of this to happen. You. Me. Us. None of it!" That was Saira Malik's life in summary. Once a happy-go-lucky girl fantasized about two thin...
