| Sweetly Toxic |

Part 2 : The Morning Routine

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting soft golden rays through the curtains in Sana’s small room. The peaceful morning in the Sarsilmaz home was a contrast to the busy world outside. In their cozy home, the day had already begun.

Rahim Sarsilmaz, Sana’s father, was up early, as always. His hands were covered in grease as he worked on the engine of an old car in the garage. His garage was small, nothing fancy, but it was his pride and joy. To anyone who needed their car fixed, Rahim was the man to trust. His hard work and skill made the garage a vital part of the neighborhood, even if it didn’t have the shiny exterior of a big business.

Upstairs, in the kitchen, Lyla, Sana’s mother, was busy preparing breakfast. The aroma of freshly baked parathas and chai filled the air. Lyla moved gracefully, humming a quiet tune as she worked. She loved cooking, a gift passed down from her own mother. Her food was always made with care, and no matter how simple the meal, it was always filled with warmth. Lyla was the heart of the family, keeping everything in order and ensuring her family felt loved and cared for.

Meanwhile, Ali, Sana’s younger brother, was still sprawled on the living room couch, his schoolbag abandoned beside him. He was a little lazy in the mornings, always hard to get out of bed. But he had a quick wit and mischievous charm that made him a joy to be around. Despite being the youngest, Ali had a way of making everyone laugh, even if it was at Sana’s expense.

Back in her room, Sana was still fast asleep. Her peaceful face was oblivious to the sounds of her family going about their morning routine. She loved the quiet mornings, the time when she could be alone with her thoughts. But today, her mind wandered back to Zayn Khan, the new math professor. The way he had helped her with her calculus problem had stayed with her, and she couldn’t help but feel an unfamiliar curiosity about him. Why had he made such an impact on her?

As the morning unfolded in the Sarsilmaz home, the family carried on in their familiar routines. Rahim would work tirelessly at his garage, Lyla would make sure the house ran smoothly, and Ali would eventually get up, causing his sister Sana to shake her head in mild frustration. Yet, in this small, loving home, the family’s bond was unshakeable, and the simple rhythms of the day felt deeply comforting.

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Across the city, in the grand Khan mansion, the morning was a world apart. The mansion, with its towering marble pillars and gilded chandeliers, was a place of luxury and power. Yusuf Khan, the patriarch, was already awake, moving through his home with purpose. He was the head of one of the largest oil companies in India, and his wealth was known throughout the country. Though he was busy with business matters, his love for his family was still evident, especially for his eldest son, Zayn.

Every morning, Hasina, Zayn’s mother and Yusuf’s first wife, would make her way to Zayn’s room. Hasina’s love for Zayn was exclusive, almost possessive, and every morning, she would check on him, bringing him tea with a soft smile. "Zayn, darling, have you eaten?" she would ask in her quiet, firm voice. She had always been a devoted mother, but her warmth was reserved only for him.

In the kitchen, Mariyam, Yusuf’s second wife, was busy preparing breakfast. Mariyam had a different energy from Hasina. She was warm and welcoming, always making sure that every member of the family felt loved and cared for. Mariyam had a natural kindness, and her children adored her. Her son, Ayan, was 20, mature beyond his years, and was already taking on more responsibilities within the family business. Though Ayan was serious and reserved, he had a deep respect for his mother and his family.

Alina, Zayn’s 12-year-old sister, was the playful one in the family. She loved to tease her older brother, Ayan, about being so serious all the time. Every morning, she would burst into the kitchen, laughing and joking with her mother. She brought a lightheartedness to the mansion, and even Zayn, despite his serious nature, couldn’t help but smile at her antics.

The youngest of the family, Alina, a sweet and curious 12-year-old, wandered into the kitchen, her eyes still heavy with sleep. With her braid trailing down her back and her mischievous grin, she was a constant reminder of the innocence and joy of childhood. She was a quiet observer, but in her silence, she brought a sense of peace to the house.

As Yusuf made his way downstairs, dressed impeccably for the day, he greeted each of his children with a firm but loving presence. His voice had the authority of a man who had built an empire, but his affection for his children was clear. He always made time for Zayn, calling him to discuss both business matters and family issues. “I’m proud of you, son,” he would say, sitting with Zayn, offering his guidance and approval. Zayn, ever serious, would nod, his emotions hidden behind a calm expression.

The contrast between the two households couldn’t have been starker. Sana’s family lived a simple, hardworking life, their love found in small moments, in shared meals, and in the quiet hum of their daily routine. Zayn’s family, on the other hand, was enveloped in wealth and power, but their lives, too, were shaped by love—though a more complex and sometimes strained love. In both homes, however, family came first, and the bonds between them ran deep.

As Sana slept on in her room, her mind unknowingly drifting toward thoughts of Zayn, his family in their mansion began their day with a rhythm of their own. Both families, separated by distance, were tied together by the same fundamental thing: love.

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