Missed Flights And First Times

Chapter 3

Warisha was confused, and nothing had made sense to her since Izhaan had yelled 'you're coming with me' in a way that reminded her of kidnappers she'd seen in movies. Few heads had turned to their table in the restaurant, each pair of eyes looking at Izhaan with suspicion. One old lady had even been kind enough to ask Warisha if the man was bothering her—she'd had to quickly clear that he was her husband and not a criminal there to take her (contrary to what his words suggested), and Izhaan had sat there, hiding his face that had turned red in embarrassment.

That confusion had gone nowhere as Izhaan got up and took her hand—after making sure no one was going to accuse him of anything horrendous—and dragged her around the airport yet again. Warisha almost, almost, felt like a child who couldn't walk without her hand being held by an adult.

"Where are we going?" She asked him, uncertainly eyeing their surroundings. She'd never been to Dubai International Airport before, only traveling between Pakistan and US for her necessary education.

Izhaan, like all the previous times, only glanced at her in a way that told her she wasn't going to get an answer this time too. He seemed so sure of where he was going, she was forced to wonder if he'd been here before, but she swallowed the question before she could ask it.

Her formality was yet to drop around him. Husband or not, she had met him just once prior to this.

Somehow, without the need to ask directions, Izhaan had taken them to the zen garden built inside the airport. Warisha, never having seen or heard of the garden before, stood shell-shocked, her lips parted in surprise and awe. Izhaan felt himself smiling as he stared at her without her noticing—she was too busy staring elsewhere. Her hand hung loose in his yet he did not let go, simply holding onto it like it was his most prized possession.

"This is so..." She whispered, not having realized she said the words out loud. His grip tightened around her slender fingers.

"Pretty? Beautiful? Gorgeous? Magnificent? Fascinating? Enthralling? Enchanting? Bewitching?" Izhaan completed for her, very generously. At that moment, Warisha's head whipped to him and all awe wiped off her face as she looked at him like he'd grown nine tails somehow.

"Yeah, umm... all of that?" She replied, a little baffled herself.

Izhaan's grin was bright enough to pale Dubai's sun in June. "Thank you. I take all credit."

If possible, she was even more confused. "Why? I mean, you aren't the one who built it." She waved a hand around, gesturing to the garden in front of them.

He sagged instantly, pouting at her sadly. Warisha's lip twitched as a smile threatened to form at his adorable antics. "But I'm the one who brought you here! Thora sa credit to banta hai na?"

Warisha finally allowed herself to smile. "Okay, just because you're cute." The words slipped out without thought, shocking both of them. She'd called him cute. Cute, of all words she could use, she'd used CUTE. Oh god, maybe she wouldn't really mind her grave to be in this enchanting garden.

Izhaan's grin upped a few notches when he quickly recovered from his shock. Cute, she'd said. Even though most men would have a fit over their hurt ego because of being called cute, all he could think was that Warisha had complimented him. His wife who hadn't even been talking to him just a few hours ago, had complimented him.

But whatever would happen, he'd vowed to never let an opportunity to tease Warisha slip out of his hands, so his grin transformed into a teasing one. "You think I'm cute?"