Missed Flights And First Times

Chapter 5

For twenty minutes, Izhaan had laid awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering where exactly had the three pillows in between the bed come from, and how had they been aligned so perfectly that there wasn't an inch of a gap between them, but he and Warisha were forced onto different sides of the bed.

He was scowling first thing in the morning. Sick and tired of staring at the bland ceiling, he got up with a huff and glared at Warisha's figure, trying—trying so hard—to stay angry at her.

"Khaa nahi jaunga mein," he muttered, staring at her now and easily felt his anger and scowl melt away into a hesitant smile. She looked adorable as she slept, her lips parted, and her hair splayed out on her pillow—long, straight, and black with bangs covering her forehead. Unable to help himself, though he knew he shouldn't have taken advantage of the situation, he ran a hand through her hair, feeling the silky locks slipping from his fingers like sand. Warisha did not so much as stir.

*"I won't eat you."

With one last look at her, he walked to the bathroom, pushing the door open slowly and quietly. He freshened up and squeezed in a well-needed shower, then didn't hesitate to douse the whole bottle of perfume on himself to smell 'appealing and irresistible'.

He'd been humming in front of the mirror when his phone rang, causing Warisha to move slightly and huddle deeper into the comforter. He picked the call from the unknown number and pressed it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, sir. I'm a flight manager, calling from Dubai International Airport. Am I talking to Mr. Izhaan Sadiq?" A man spoke over the line, accompanied by a mild typing sound in the background.

Izhaan's eyebrows scrunched. He was confused as to why he was getting a call from the airport. "Yes, I'm Izhaan. Why?"

"You've been booked onto the flight that leaves to Islamabad today at 11 AM. Would you like to confirm it?"

And suddenly he was caught in limbo. Of course, the easy and straightforward decision would be to confirm the booking. Confirm it and fly to Islamabad. But then what? Warisha would go back to acting as a stranger until the rukhsati—for which the date wasn't finalized—and they'd live awkwardly together, trying to figure each other out.

"I..." His eyes went back to Warisha's sleeping form, remembering what she'd told him last night. She'd confided in him, no matter how small of a matter it might seem.

"Cancel it," he finally said, tightening his grip on the phone as his head fell low between his shoulders in guilt. She'd been excited to go home and meet her family, and he'd just taken that chance away from her. For the time being only, he reminded himself, easing the shame.

"Are you sure?" The flight manager asked professionally, though to Izhaan it seemed like he was mocking him instead.

"Yes," he gritted out and cut the call instantly.

In anger, he didn't realize what he was doing as he tossed away his phone, causing it to bang against the wooden table before it slid across the surface. The loud sound disturbed Warisha and she rolled onto her side, the duvet slipping off her. Then, all the anger he felt washed down the drain and directed at himself for bothering her peaceful sleep.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath, "I'm sorry," he said as if she could hear him in her sleep. He grabbed the edge of the blanket and lifted it over her, ready to cover her back with it when she sat up with a gasp, startling him out of his wits.

With round eyes, the two of them stared at each other in alarm, and Izhaan's fingers clutched the duvet tighter, ears turning red as Warisha blushed too.

"Sorry," he rushed out and moved back, almost stumbling in his step that had her wincing. Then, when she was sure he wasn't falling, she looked away and tucked her hair behind her ear shyly, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. Their faces had been so close, so, so close. All she had to do was move in the slightest for their noses to brush.

And the while that Warisha spent gathering her thoughts, Izhaan was almost bewitched. She was just so...pretty! It was mesmerizing.

She silently got up, keeping her head ducked as she walked past him and to the bathroom. Izhaan, still lost, kept staring at the ground.

After she'd given herself a much-needed pep talk in front of the mirror, she changed into a loose, black buttoned shirt with matching black trousers, paired with a blush pink hijab.

"I can't wait to get home," she muttered to herself as she brushed her hair smooth. Izhaan froze in his place, hearing her words.

"Warisha..." He called out softly, hesitant to tell her the truth of what he had done. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion and concern as she watched him playing with the edge of his t-shirt.

"What is it?"

He glanced at her once quickly and pointed to the bed. "Sit down. Please."

Her gaze bounced back and forth between her husband and the bed as she took slow steps and sat down on the edge, her fingers digging into the mattress. Fear made her heart throb while her mind immediately thought of the worst.

"Is...everything okay?" What if he was done with her? What if he really didn't have the patience she assumed he had and was now done with her being so dull?

He sighed and got down on the floor in front of her, snuggly holding both her hands between his. "I got a call from the airport," he paused, and the short while was long enough for a light to brighten her hazel eyes. It tugged at his heart in the most painful of ways, and he couldn't decide if it was simply because she was so eager to get back or because she didn't want to be with him any longer. The second thought only added to his pain.

"Then?" She asked hopefully.

"They told me about a flight going to Islamabad today at eleven." Immediately, Warisha's eyes went to the clock on the wall, and they rounded once she saw it was close to ten already.

"We should go—"

"I canceled it." He said, trying and failing to keep his tone firm when he saw the light in her eyes snuff out.

When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand and silenced her politely. "See, I know you wanted to return home as soon as possible, Warisha, but this is a golden opportunity! The two of us have been married for two years now yet we don't know the simplest of things about each other, let alone anything more deeper."

"That isn't true—" She immediately began to protest.

His eyes narrowed on her challengingly. "Okay, tell me when's my birthday then."

Her face blanched and she was taken back to class when the teacher asked her a question and she didn't know it's answer.

He grinned triumphantly. "See? It's on 8th June, by the way, but that's not the point. What I was saying is that let it be just a few days, even two are plenty, but we should spend it together and try to get to know each other, become accustomed to each other, comfortable with each other." When she yet again tried to object, he countered, "No, you are not comfortable with me yet."

Warisha couldn't even argue, and chose to look down at her hands instead—still in Izhaan's. It was a sight that made her heart thrum wildly.

"So, bearing this in mind, I think ae should stay here for just a few more days. Two days?" Slowly, but surely, his persuasive tone was getting to her and softening her resolve. Just a few days here, alone with Izhaan.

"Okay," she mumbled, looking up to lock eyes with Izhaan. He felt his own heart racing in his chest.

"Okay?" He repeated.

She nodded this time, a little more firmly. "Okay."

—

(A.N): Peer pressure made me publish this chapter.

Anyway, please vote, comment and share if you liked the chapter <3