Make Me Your Villain | ✓

Chapter Five

dedicated to @aneurin_tanisha and @foreverstorms for their support and comments. at this point, you two are my motivation to write <3

Hayat Azhar

It was around twelve o'clock.

The sun rays glared down upon my face and I had to squint my eyes as I took the wet clothes out from the basket and spread them over the clothesline on our roof.

My wet hair cascaded down my back, left open to air dry after I'd taken a shower. A strand of hair kept sliding in front of my eyes until I grew frustrated enough to cage my hair into a loose ponytail.

Right then, a voice came from my left; someone had called out my name. I snapped my head to the side in alarm.

Nobody was there.

Suspicious, I readjusted the duppatta that was hung over my neck to cover my head before going back to sorting out the clothes.

"Hayat."

The voice came again.

This time, I stopped working and thoroughly scrutinized my surroundings. My eyes landed on a hung bedsheet; a feeling someone was behind it rose within me.

No, it must be my imagination.

I swallowed uneasily while taking small steps toward the bedsheet. In an instant, I pushed the cloth apart and there was an actual person standing right before my sight.

My eyes grew wide and a scream almost broke through my throat when the man in front of me placed his gloved hand over my mouth, killing my voice.

I hastily freed myself from his grasp and tumbled back a step. "Zohaib?" I exclaimed in surprise before anger seeped into my blood. "This isn't funny!"

He chuckled, his face glistening under the sun. "Ahan? But you always found it funny whenever you'd scare me when we were kids. I sprained my ankle because of you, remember?"

Yikes, how the tables have turned.

I let out a breath, my heart still racing at his stupid prank. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Oh no, precious." He sighed, pretending to be love-sick. "You're the one who's always almost giving me heart attacks. What have you done to my poor heart that it can't seem to stay away from you?"

I pulled a face in faux cringe. "Stop with your corny dialogues. What brings you here anyways? How's aunty?" I turned around and walked to the basket because despite his corny words, he did make me nervous.

"She's fine," he replied as he walked to the charpai in the corner of the roof while taking his motorbike gloves off. "Your mother called me. Some bulbs downstairs were flickering so I came to fix them."

I smiled, feeling touched. Zohaib was multitalented like that. Being the only close man to our family, he would help us out at every chance he got.

"But that was an excuse. I wanted to see you."

My hands stilled.

I spun my head around and my eyes met his smiling ones. My face warmed up and my heart fluttered. His eyes didn't leave mine and despite the fact that he was sitting quite a distance from me, he felt so close.

It was only then that I realized my head was covered clumsily, my hair strands visible from the front. Having grown up with Zohaib, it felt normal to hang around him without my duppatta.

I quickly fixed my duppatta in place, leaving a longer side over my back to fully cover my hair.

"Aren't you going to say something back to me?" He cocked his head to the side and I bit back a smile.