•Taimoor•
The thin lingering dust on the opalescent plates danced with a vibrancy under white ceiling lights. On the stove the French onion soup bubbled, the bowls of bread baked under the warm glow of the orange oven light. Thin strips of meat had been sliced, marinating in the thick marinade. Rosemary and thyme crushed, garlic sliced into thin slivers, ginger and coarse black pepper on top. Aroma of the blend of sixteen spices hovered in the air. Saffron enriched grains of rice had been steamed until each grain stood out with its own individuality.
A thick linen cloth had been thrust into his hands, responsibility on his shoulders to wipe the plates down. The touch of his sweaty fingers lingered on the cool porcelain, the sky blue and silver paint that was etched on the diameter, reflected light into his eyes. Sounds of his father and brother's ceaseless chatter fell onto his deaf ears. His eye made contact with them every now and then, fingers slipped back and forth with the plates. The glasses — made of fiber glass had already been placed on the dining table. A train of sous chefs followed the orders of his father, moving back and forth with sharp knives in hand. It was like a battle of death, so close to it yet the thrill was beyond anything.
Yusuf and Emir had that signature charm in them he noticed. The one that he had inherited too, a high spirit of being able to control an entire room with just a flick of his wrist. Their voices with the calm bleakness pierced sharply through the realm of present, launching them straight into the future destroying the past. Taimoor noted with great earnest attitude the way his father commanded Emir. Inside the kitchen, whilst he was at work, there was no mercy for anyone. Even if they were his own sons.
"Taimoor if you're done here go make yourself busy elsewhere," Yusuf grumbled.
Gulping, he nodded his head. Placing the last of the expensive dishes on the marble countertops. The wristwatch struck a four. Exactly and precisely on the dot. Lilah had been invited over for tea — she would be forced to stay for dinner, he knew.
"Taimoor go".
"Huh—uh yes I was just going".
Sheepishly he exited the large chef's kitchen, crossing the white swivel doors he entered the smaller of the two kitchen's before walking out into the lavishly decorated hallway. The sound of his heeled shoes were suffocated against the thick maroon carpet, the color of it slightly deeper than the one of his red bottom shoes. With one hand placed in his pocket for decor, he scrolled on the screen of his phone with the other. His finger lingered above the contact name of Lilah, for a few seconds he contemplated. Was it worth it? Taking a deep breath he pressed the call icon, placing the phone next to his ear he waited for the familiar ringtone.
"Um-hello Lilah?"
"No you douchebag!"
"Excuse me?" He frowned.
"This is her assistant Nicole. She forgot her phone at my apartment as she was rushed to reach your home sweetheart".
The sarcasm dripped from each word, covered in the thick Italian accent, snubbed his confidence.
"Alright—I'll hang up then. Have a good evening," he spoke.
"I'm not buying this sweet boy act Mr.Khan. You better bring your A game in this redemption arc or I'll end up in the hospital for murder!"
The woman on the other side, pronounced his name as Can rather than Kh-an and he had to stop his laughter from escaping. He was already in her bad books, his mind reminded. Need he fuck up more?
"Yes ma'am!"
"Good. Have a lovely evening!"
The call was dropped just like that, and he was left staring at the screen. Taimoor sighed, rubbing his hand across his face. Why had he thought it would be a good idea? He should have waited for her to arrive before he said a word.
***
***
Rolling the cuffs of his crisp cotton shirt, Taimoor jumped down the stairs three at a time. It was the only sport he indulged in, his form of activity save for the visit to the gym every other day. The rumbling inside his stomach increased as the aroma of the decadent snacks filled the large patio. Turning the heavy metal handle he stepped onto the wooden deck, he smiled at Emir softly. His brother nodded at him with a reassured look in his eye, he would be fine.
He straightened the blue-grey shirt, wrapping an arm around his mother's shoulder he slid on the sofa's armrest beside her. His toned legs were extended infront of him, crossed at the ankles. Grinning he fisted a few cashews, chewing on them slowly as he faced Lilah — who much to his surprise was dressed in the same color as him.
Universe's sign number one—they belonged together.
"And Lilah this is Taimoor, but I'm sure you knew that," his mother patted his thigh.
Grinning, he gripped her hand, bringing it to his lips. Taimoor kissed the back of it, playing with the wedding ring on his mother's finger. Maintaining steady eye contact with the woman in question.
"Of course Janice khala. How are you Taimoor?" She questioned.
"Better now that you're here," he whispered the latter half to himself.
"Did you like your apartment?"
"I did, loved what you guys did with the sculpture's inside the greenhouse".
"That is awfully kind of you".
"I say what I saw. Mamma and Padre have not raised Emir and I as liars," he defended, for reasons unknown to him.
"You can continue this later. First drink your tea Lilah, no one likes it cold," Janice broke the awkward spell of silence.
Speaking as she forwarded a fancy tea cup into his own hands. Taimoor kissed her head in thanks, taking a sip of the cardamom infused tea, he hummed in delight. Taking another deep gulp he gazed at Lilah from behind his teacup. She looked flawless in the raw silk blue-grey three piece. The fitted capris trousers highlighted the gold tint of her skin, the fitted shirt with a small cutout in the neckline was covered in beads and bedazzled his eyes with their glimmer. The veil carelessly thrown in her neck, her hair in a low bun.
***
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• Lilah's fit •
•Lilah•
Her heartbeat raced as the sun set. Her aunty refused to send her home, forbidding her from leaving before dinner. Nature seemed to be siding with her as an instantaneous downpour tore through the streets of Rome. The strong winds ruffled even the mightiest of trees, the setting sun hidden behind a thicket of grey merciless clouds. A chill filled through the walls and the fireplace was burnt in an instant. She sipped the tea uncomfortably, her enthusiasm had dried up and the meltdown from earlier this morning caught up with her. All she wanted was the warm arms of her mother around her.
Washing her hands with the ice cold water, too far gone to even care about the temperature Lilah sniffed. Her eyes were reddened biting her lip to alleviate the pain did not work. Rubbing her hands against the soft towel, she counted down from ten to one in her head. Deep raspy breaths fogged the mirror hiding the heartbroken look of her face. The white lights with the gold fixtures set on top of the mirror gave her a pasty glow. Applying a thick layer of coral blush had done little to hide the disappointment in her eyes, the tan gold hue of her look no longer the same.
The small gold knob twisted and the wooden door opened into the hallway. Her ivory beaded khusas sunk into the carpet, shadows of the mahogany tables covered the dimly lit hallway. Brown tear filled eyes stared out of the metal framed windows. Trees as nimble as threads stood with iron like strength. Harsh rain pelted on the withering leaves, with force they smacked the window panes. Nature was in all it's glory, nothing short of tyranny. Her small steps inched closer to the staircase, with gaze unfocused. Lilah's worst fears came true as she bumped into someone's shoulder, and with the musky scent that wrapped around her she knew it was the man she was furious with.
"Sorry. I'm sorry about that, sorry".
Lilah's gaze wandered around the trims of the ceilings behind him. She consciously avoided looking into his eyes, crippling anxiety flushed her skin, she was sure anyone could smell it from miles away.
"It is equally my fault Lilah. I'm really sorry".
His voice was like the crackling wood fire, burning with deep raw ambers and smoke that cut through the alveolar ducts. Walking out of his hold, that had kept her steadied she immediately sensed the absence of his warm palms around her waist. The touch had been there but gone unnoticed but now that it was taken away the difference was staggering.
"No - no worries," Lilah shrugged.
Fixing her veil in her neck, she walked towards the staircase. Her stroll was filled with purpose. Lilah was affected by his presence but she needed to make him grovel for it — as what Nicole had told her. Her affections could not be bought with cheap, third class behavior. If Taimoor wanted to be in her life he had to prove his merits, he needed to understand that. Her parents would not care for the friendship, not over her wellbeing at least. The knowledge of which provided her with confidence.
"Lilah wait!"
Her steps halted on their own. Mid step, she turned to look at him. A glassy look in her eyes, hid the swirls of fury and disappointment. A tight lipped smile lured him in deeper and he jogged to join her side. His hand wrapped itself around her upper arm, thrown off within seconds. The friendly attitude had to be curbed until she heard what he had to say.
"Do not think you can take advantage of my softness Mr.Khan!"
"I don't even want to Lilah".
"It's Ms.Alamgeer to anyone that is not friend or foe". She rolled her eyes.
She was surprised too, at the sharpness of her tone and the wit that had possessed her by the second. Defense mechanism. Her own mind was protecting her from being exploited at the hands of someone she imagined could be more than a stranger. A technique that had evolved after the pressures she faced during art school. Survival of the fittest.
"I know I was a douchebag that day," he started.
"Self awareness is always a good trait to have".
"Lilah give me another chance, I can be better than I was that day. I promise!"
Lilah could swear she saw tears inside his eyes.
"How would I know this promise holds weight to itself?"
"Lilah you wouldn't know until you let me show it to you," Taimoor sighed.
He walked closer, his hand rested by hers on the banister. Their eyes made an electric eye contact. The moment was charged and she felt herself drown in the mad abyss of obsidian his eyes were in the darkness. They reminded her of the storm outside. Inside the crystal clear ocean she saw herself with a vividness, her reflection filled his sight. She noticed from the corner of her eye, his fingers inched closer to hers — his comfort was not sought after. Not now atleast.
"Mr.Khan my ideal man is my father. Do you think you could give me a love like he has given to my mother?"
"Well, of course". He spoke with confidence.
"That's a lie. You know it, my father is exceptional and you showed me what your standards are last week. You'd never have the guts to leave all that you've worked for, for me". Lilah rolled her eyes.
As if feeling she had been a bit too harsh, she took a deep breath.
"I- I am sorry. You hurt me that day so so much. I spent the whole night wondering if it was me, if I had done something wrong. The callous way you left me had me thinking that perhaps I'd never find love. And – and that is not how I ever want to feel. Ever again".
Sniffing, she wiped the tears that fell from her eyes. Her heart ached for herself, for the young teenager that she was, for the young child that she was, for the baby that she once was —dreaming of a fairytale love.
"Just give me time Lilah. I promise I'll change. Your mother gave your father a second chance, please give me one too".
"Okay. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. You have one week, seven days, seven dates to convince me Taimoor".
"I'll make it the best week of your life!" He grinned.
Lilah grinned, walking downstairs, with Taimoor following behind her. She could, later promise herself that she had heard him whisper
'Ti farò sentire come la Belle della palla'.
***
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Translation :
"I'll make you feel like the Belle of the ball."
***
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Baby let the games begin
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