Third Person's POV
As the alarm rang at 7:30 am, Muskan stirred from her sleep and groggily reached over to turn it off. She changed into her clothes for the day, the routine of getting ready feeling familiar yet somehow empty.
"Mummy, I'm leaving. Allah hafiz," Muskan called out as she slipped on her shoes, her voice carrying through the house.
"Allah hafiz. Be careful on the way," her mother replied from somewhere nearby.
Muskan grabbed her bicycle and set off for college, the rhythmic motion of pedaling doing little to ease the knot of anxiety in her stomach. Despite her attempts to reassure herself, a sense of dread lingered beneath the surface.
Beneath the facade of confidence, Muskan carried the weight of unspoken emotions. Deep down, she harbored feelings for Zamir, knowing full well the futility of it all. Comparisons to someone like Aiza, with her conventional beauty and grace, only served to magnify Muskan's own insecurities. She couldn't help but feel inadequate in comparison.
Yet, amidst the self-doubt and longing, there remained a quiet yearning in Muskan's heart. She longed for someone who would see beyond the surface, who would cherish her for who she truly was. Someone who would offer understanding and comfort in a world filled with uncertainty.
Though she often projected an image of independence and self-sufficiency, Muskan couldn't deny the longing for companionship that tugged at her heart. Because, deep down, everyone needs someone to rely on.
As she parked her bicycle in the designated spot, a sleek black car pulled up and parked beside her. She glanced at it and sighed, thinking only an idiot would park his car in a bicycle parking space. Ignoring the driver, she began gathering her belongings, ready to head inside.
"Long time no see, little monkey," came a familiar voice from behind her. She froze, her heart skipping a beat as she turned around to see Zayn leaning casually against his car, a mischievous grin on his face.
"What are you-wait, don't call me that," she retorted, her face flushing slightly. Memories of their playful banter rushed back.
"Fine. Long time no see, little creature," he shot back with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, feeling a mixture of irritation and amusement. How many nicknames would he give her?
YOU ARE READING
Mulazim-E-Al-Wadood (On hold)
RomanceIneffable Love is now Mulazim-e-Al-Wadood We meet thousands of people in this world, we get attracted to hundreds, we fall for ten and then we'll be united with the one whose name was written with our name thousands of years ago. ...