Before we dive in — I just dropped a new reel on The Maliks on my Instagram .
If you wanna know what they're all about, go check it out and show some love.
Edit credit goes to SohanaParvin981 — she killed it ❤️
Anaya was in the second-floor hallway, a small smile playing on her lips as she walked toward her room. Mission: Guilt Trip — Successfully Completed.
She should've felt bad for her mother but she didn't. Not when her own mother took her son's side and not her daughter's.
And, of course, her mother would tell her husband. And her Abbu would believe she hadn't eaten all day. Toh bas... guilt sab ko feel karna chahiye.
She never understood why, if she was the one hungry, her parents were the ones who always got more bothered. And truthfully? She knew why.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her wrist.
She jolted, spinning around in surprise.
Standing there with that infuriating, smug smirk—Azaan.
Anaya yanked her hand back. "Kya hai?"
"Kya matlab kya hai?" he said, dramatically raising an eyebrow.
"Mera haath kyun khincha?" she snapped.
Azaan folded his arms across his chest, the smirk turning into full-blown sarcasm. "Neeche jo main jhoot bol ke tumhari acting save kar raha tha—ke tumne kuch nahi khaya, bechari bhookhi Anaya—uska kya? Mujhe kuch milega uske badle?"
Anaya blinked, putting on her most innocent face. "Woh toh tumne khud bola. Main ne kab kaha jhoot bolo?"
"Tum itni badi—" he paused, trying to find the right word then hissed—"kamini ho."
Anaya gasped theatrically. "Kamini mein nahi tum ho . Kamina"
Azaan turned on his heel with a glare. "Aur dobara mere paas mat aana!"
"Kabhi zindagi mein nahi aayi aur na kabhi aaungi!" Anaya shouted back as he stomped away toward her room.
She turned back muttering under her breath, "Kya sochta hai apne aap ko—Hero No. 1?"
"Mujhe iski kya zarurat" Anaya muttered, tossing her hair with pride as she marched toward her room like a heroine making a dramatic exit.
And yet...
At 1 a.m., there she was—standing outside his room.
In her pajamas. Hungry . Sad.
Flashback
All this time, Anaya had been tossing around on the bed like a bored cat, a book in her hand and no snacks in sight. The book was good but let's be real—without snacks, even romance felt dry.
She kept scrolling on her phone and regretting her earlier choices. Why did she eat all her snacks? Why didn't she keep at least one packet of Lay's or Dairy Milk?
Usually, she could emotionally blackmail her Ayaan bhai or guilt-trip someone else into buying snacks for her. But with all the family drama going on, she'd forgotten to stock her mini fridge. Rookie mistake.
It was dinner time now—the time she had been silently waiting for like a heroine waiting for her hero in the rain.
"Kya... koi kyun nahi aa raha?" she muttered, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.
Knock knock.
Finally.
Anaya took her sweet time opening the door, fixing her pajama shirt like she hadn't been wrapped in a blanket all evening like a burrito.
