Anything For You

|Blazing Things|

Fariz raised his hand and gave a light smack on the back of his head to his brother, who was sitting on a bench in the patio. "What are you doing out here?" he asked, leaning casually against the bench.

Adnan flinched and glanced up, a faint smile tugging at his lips. But the smile faded as quickly as it came. He turned back to gaze at the sky, his eyes fixed on the full moon, which hung like a silver lantern amidst the dark sea of clouds. Its soft light painted the sky with a delicate serenity, as if the night itself had draped a cloak of peace over the world.

"What's troubling you?" Fariz asked, settling onto the bench beside him. He could read his brother's emotions without needing words—he always could.

Adnan kept his gaze on the moon, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Dadaji is still angry with me for that day's joke."

Fariz let out a long breath. "Don't worry about that," he said, leaning back against the bench. "He'll forgive you soon. You know how he is. His temper's like a storm—loud, but it passes." He glanced at Adnan with a small grin. "But seriously, I don't understand why you keep making jokes like that."

Adnan turned to face him, his expression somber. "I know he'll come around, Bhai, but it's not just that. There's something else on my mind."

Fariz shifted slightly, sensing that the conversation was about to get more serious. "What's that?" he asked, his tone still casual but his posture more attentive.

Adnan hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter. "Why does Dadaji think this way? I mean, love marriage isn't a crime."

Fariz's smile faltered slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. He had heard this line of questioning from Adnan more times than he cared to count. With a slight furrow of his brows, he shook his head.

"Don't start again, yaar." His voice had a hint of impatience. "He's our grandfather. He's lived a life full of experiences; he won't think anything bad for us."

Adnan sighed, his gaze returning to the sky. "I know, bhai. I respect everything he's done for us. But ye saalon ki love marriage se dushmani—why?" He paused, glancing sideways at Fariz. "Just because Phupho..." (But this years long enmity towards love marriage.)

('phupho' is used to refer to father's sister.)

"Don't take her name," Fariz cut him off sharply before he could even finish. His expression shifted, his jaw tightening at the mere mention of that name, the slightest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. His gaze settled on Adnan with a weight that wasn't harsh but carried an unspoken intensity.

"If anyone hears you saying her name," he continued, his voice steady but low, "no one will talk to you this time."

Adnan's shoulders sagged, and he let out a long, resigned sigh.

"Aesa pyaar kis kaam ka agar wo aapko apne parivar walo se durr karde." Fariz's voice softened. "And you know how much Dadaji has suffered because of his daughter." His words trailed off slightly, as if searching for a way to make his cousin see what he had long accepted. (What good is love if it pulls you away from your own family?)

"Aur aapko kabhi kisise pyaar hogaya toh?" Adnan, however, wasn't listening—or didn't want to. His question hung in the air, defiant yet curious. (What if you ever fall in love with someone?)

Fariz didn't miss a beat. Straightening his posture, the sternness in his demeanor returned. "I don't have time for such things," he stated simply. "I'll marry whoever Dadaji chooses for me."

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Aasim leaned back in his chair, casually picking up his glass of juice. "So, how's work going?" he asked, his tone light as he watched Mahnoor.