"Ammi, mujhe lag raha hai hamne koi gunnah kardiya hai," Aaima said to her mother in front of everyone at the breakfast dinner.
(Mom, I think we did a sin.)
"Allah na kare, kya baat kar rahi ho?" Asma asked.
(God forbid, what are you talking about?)
"Mujhe na raat ko.... dadi ke radio ki awaazein aati hai," Aaima said, slowly creating a scary atmosphere.
(I hear grandmother's radio... at late night.)
Zayan's eyes snapped towards Maham, who froze and stared at the table her serving hand stopping in the air.
"Mujhe bhi aati hai!" Zafeera revealed, scared. "Maine dar ke maare kuch nahi kaha keh kahin aesa na ho, mai ankhein kholon aur samne dadi khari hoon." Zayan snickered under his breath at her words.
(I see her too! I never said anything out of fear, cause what if I open my eyes one night and grandmother is in front of me.)
"Kya fazool baatein hain. Parosi se aati hogi," Arafat said and dismissed the topic.
(What rubbish. It probably comes from outside.)
Maham let out a sigh of relief and continued serving before going into the kitchen to have her own breakfast. She took the last bite of her breakfast and downed the cup of tea. She was about to leave when Zayan entered. She continued moving past him but he stopped her.
"You were saved," He spoke, his British accent noticeable. She turned around and tilted her head to the side in confusion.
"Radio wali baat. Agar aap pakri jati toh apse radio le liya jaata," He said.
(The radio topic. If you were caught then the radio would've been taken from you.)
Maham stared at him, realization settling in. It was his eyes that watched her. She didn't have time to be embarrassed as a sarcastic gasp and reply escaped her mouth, "apko Urdu bhi aati hai?"
(You know Urdu?)
She rolled her eyes at him and turned to walk away but in a reflex, his hand reached towards her wrist and he turned her around pulling her close and putting her arm behind her back.
"Hame Arabic bhi aati hai, Madam," He smiled, looking deep into the pools of ocean green and blue.
(I know Arabic too, Madam.)
"wayu jmal bed eaynak yudhkar?" He spoke, his voice deep and enunciated and her breath got caught in her throat, his free hand reaching forward and pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, making her eyes close momentarily.
(What beauty can there be to mention after your eyes?)
The way he spoke, so cleanly, emotions deep within the words. She didn't know what he meant but it felt intimate. Too intimate. His hand loosened on her arm and her eyes for a millisecond shifted to his eyes before she backed away and quickly left the room.
It was after she left the kitchen and went to her that she realized how she didn't feel uncomfortable. For the first time in years, she didn't feel uncomfortable with a man's presence in the same room alone with her or his touch.
It confused her. And confusion annoyed Maham.
Zayan stood in the kitchen, also confused. He had never reached for someone's hand -- let alone a woman's. He never felt the urge to pull anyone closer than he did with Maham. It's like some part of his brain wanted Maham.
'Astagfirullah' he chanted in his mind walking out.
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𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐍 - rewritten | ✓
Romance"Zayan, you don't believe that is true, right? You know I am not that type of girl. That- It's not me in that video, Zayan, you believe me, right?" She asked, desperate as she held onto his warm hands, looking deep into his brown cold eyes. "How ca...
