She Is My Hayaat

Chapter 41: Power of Persuasion

Team Anam and Adam, this one is for you. X♡X♡

Everything was perfectly planned, and both our guests were completely oblivious as to what Izhar and I were up to. They had contemplated as to why we would ask them to suddenly come over, but we were swift to come up with any kind of excuse that would stall them for the time being. Izhar had told Adam that they would be playing soccer and watching the game, while I had told Anam that I was feeling lonely because of my crazy pregnancy hormones and missed her company. They both had their suspicions, but neither could deny us.

I had made a wide array of colorful dishes. The table was set with my finest china and shiniest and classiest of silverware, and the authentic aromas filled the kitchen. Izhar had wanted us to go out somewhere nice because he thought that it would be a hassle for me to cook in such a short time while I balanced work and all the house chores, but I was quick to take the load as I loved feeding people and making desserts.

Both of them were to come in the next hour and a half, and I still didn't know what to wear. I stood in a simple lilac cotton salwar kameez, the chiffon dupatta hanging from the cream love seat in the middle of our double walk-in closet, and my hair was up in a messy bun. I stood in front of my side of the closet with my hands on my hips and head titled to the side as I scrutinized the racks and drawers, as if something would pop out for me to claim.

"What are you doing?" Izhar asked from behind as I huffed in annoyance.

"I don't know what to wear!" I threw my hands up and shook my head at my closet filled with clothes and accessories.

Every single item was organized to perfection, from color to material. All the accessories had their own section and were neatly put in order. Even my salwar kameez had an order to them. The cotton ones that I wore on a daily basis in the drawers, the nicer ones hanging on the right side of the closet, and the party wear split into even more sections.

I was focused on one of the the middle racks that was filled with rich pieces of cloth, which were nicely designed and embroidered but were not over the top fancy and formal. I was looking for something casual yet something nice, but even after coming down to one section in the whole closet, my mind was utterly blank.

"You'll look beautiful in anything darling. Just pick what you like," Izhar retorted casually.

I turned around and glared at him. "Easy for you to say. All men do is pick a shirt, a pair of trousers, and that's it," I said and sat on the love seat, my back to him.

I held the edge of the seat with my hands and tried calming my erratic heartbeat down. My mood swings were always in affect for the most part, but I hated taking things to levels I wouldn't have before. I was becoming someone else, but at the same time I was becoming more normal. All the emotions that I wouldn't dare to show left me no choice. I rarely had an option in covering up my feelings and judgements with all my hormones going haywire.

I could hear Izhar gracefully stride towards me, and I looked straight ahead. My eyes pierced the racks of clothes, cursing the soft and silky materials filled with zari, zardosi, and rich cotton embroidery. As he came to stand in front of me, I caught a slit of his uncovered torso. His fingers were agile as they worked on buttoning up the bottom of his steel blue shirt. They were all the way at the base and then expertly moved to the apex, very slowly. As much as I tried, I couldn't look away as my eyes danced with the stark contrast of his skin. His integument was shaped to perfection, taught and compact. I could easily count each abductor muscle as clear as the day, and not a milimeter was out of place. The contours of his abs were well defined and tightly smoothened over each layer of muscle.