𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 | 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟎𝟏

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟗

ARZO

I stand in the middle of my art studio, staring at the blank canvas in front me, holding an empty paint brush as I think of something to paint.

Anything.

We stayed in Bali for a week then decided to come home because I started missing it. I missed our room. I missed Salma’s delicious food. I even missed Shariq’s little scowl when he sees something disapproving while driving and shakes his head, muttering, “kids, these days,”

I missed home.

However, returning home meant Faizan had to go back to work. And since my internship has been completed, I couldn’t accompany him. I also have a few days left before I return back to university and start preparing for my finals.

A knock on the door brings me out of my empty thoughts. The door opens, revealing Faizan.

“Assalamu Alaikum, amar.”

My lips form a smile, I put away the brush and sign, “Wale Kum Assalam,” I make my way towards him and kiss his cheek, “welcome home,”

“Thank you,” he says, shutting the door behind him.

“How was your day?” I ask after we take our seat by the table.

“Fine.”

“Did you eat the food we packed?”

I was serious when I said I am going to make sure he eats properly. He’s always working and I need him to be healthy. So, today, I woke up before him to help Salma make his lunch and then told him if he doesn’t finish it, I’m not going to talk to him.

Some may call that emotional blackmail but I call it caring.

“Yes, amar.”

I squint my eyes at him.

“I promise I ate it.”

“Okay. Good job.” I grin at him and he returns a small smile.

“I have something to ask you.” he says.

“Ask me.”

“Will you accompany me to a business event tonight?”

“Are you asking me to be your date, Faizan Malik?”

“Yes, I am.”

I smile, “I would love to go with you.”

He smiles, “Perfect.”

ᯓᡣ𐭩

After having dinner, Faizan and I started getting ready for the event.

Technically, I started getting ready before him because I needed to pick out a dress, matching hijab and jewelry while he went to his home office to do some work.

I decided to wear a dark blue dress. It’s plain but elegant, the color shines when light hits it.

Faizan returns to the room when I sit by the dresser to get ready, put on some jewelry and hijab.

Faizan changes into his black suit, making him more attractive than he already is.

How many women saw him in this suit before? He’s always in a suit for work. If I tell him to stop wearing suits to work, will he stop? But that’s unprofessional.

“Amar, you’re staring.”

I blink and realize I’ve been staring at him, holding my lipgloss near my lips since he came out of the bathroom dressed in his suit while he was busy fixing his cufflinks.