Risen from dust

Forty Eight

Zaviyaar found Noor beautiful, a thought she found hard to believe. Her interactions with men were minimal, usually only observing Uncle Khalifa and his unsavoury friends from a distance when they visited. Yet, with Zaviyaar, she felt a sense of comfort and safety she'd never experienced before.

"Here's your tea," Noor said, hurriedly offering the cup to him. She wasn't accustomed to receiving compliments.

"Where's my thank you?" Zaviyaar teased, his eyes twinkling.

"Um... you're getting late. Someone might come in. You should go," Noor said, feeling flustered.

"Okay, I'll go, but only if you give me a peck on my cheek," he playfully requested, pointing at his cheek.

"No," Noor responded, her cheeks now as red as a ripe tomato.

"Fine then. I am going to stand here till I get it." Zaviyaar said.

"I'm not moving until I get it," Zaviyaar insisted with a playful grin.

"Zaviyaar, please, just go," Noor urged, gently pushing him toward the door. However, as she attempted to guide him out, Zaviyaar grabbed her arm, his gaze falling to his shirt. "Oh no, look what you've done, dumbo. My clothes are ruined because of your flour-covered hands. You'll have to pay for this," he teased, pulling her closer to his chest.

Caught off guard, Noor's eyes widened as Zaviyaar swiftly placed a quick kiss on her cheek. Her face flushed deeper, but a shy smile danced on her lips. "You're impossible," she muttered, a mix of embarrassment and amusement evident in her tone.

Zaviyaar released Noor and took a step back, his eyes bright with amusement. "You're too easy to tease, Noor," he chuckled, a warmth in his tone.

Noor, trying to compose herself, playfully rolled her eyes. "You're the one making a fuss about your shirt. Always finding ways to trouble me," she retorted, though her smile betrayed her attempt at seriousness. Using her dupatta, she tried to brush off the flour from his shirt.

"Just giving you a hard time, babygirl," he whispered in her ear, his playful demeanour easing the moment.

As they stood facing each other, a comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by a few lighthearted chuckles. Zaviyaar glanced at the time and relented, "Alright, I'll let you off the hook this time. But remember, you owe me a kiss for my shirt." He winked, teasingly, before making his way out.

Noor shook her head, a soft laughter escaping her lips, "You wish!"

Sairah decided to call Haneen Begum and ask her to let Noor come help her around a bit. She didn't know whether Haneen would agree or not as she was very fond of Noor herself.

"Salam Haneen. How are you doing?" Sairah inquired warmly.

"Wa Alaikum As-salam, Sairah. Alhumdulillah, everything's good. How's Waliya and Harris? And is Ayyub's family still in Islamabad?" Haneen asked, catching up.

"Alhumdulillah, we're all fine. Ayyub's left, but Arham is staying a while longer. He's considering expanding the business here," Sairah explained.

"Yeah. Nice boy. Chakkar lagao meri taraf." s,aid Haneen. Come visit my place she invited warmly.

"Haan haan zaroor. I just wanted to ask you something." Yeah sure sure Sairah obliged.

"Yes, ask my dear friend." Haneen said. She was very fond of Sairah.

"Ummm, I was thinking if you could spare Noor for a few hours 2 to 3 times a week. I just need help with the setting, and a lot of unpacking is required, too. I can't trust anyone else from outside to help me. Noor has been with you, and she seems like a wonderful girl." Sairah requested.