Malika Bashir had a darkened view of the world. Ibrahim Ahmad refused to see anything but the light.
Soon, a friend from the past appears at Ibrahim's doorstep and a mysterious set of letters are left in his bedroom. Old conflicts are raised and ne...
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Ibrahim Ahmad scanned the crowd in search of a face. It would have been easier if he knew exactly who he was looking for, but after hearing the description he had a feeling he'd know the moment his eyes landed on the guy.
Sure enough, amidst the crowd, he found a boy with brown eyes and messy hair laughing around with someone. Ibrahim stormed towards him. He tapped on the guy's shoulder and waited for him to turn around.
"Yes?" Aryan asked as he faced him.
Aryan Malik was not only a prick, but he looked like one too. His tie was so loose around his neck it seemed like it would come undone with a touch, his shirt was untucked and his pants weren't even the ones that were part of the uniform. The guy was just wearing casual jeans, the ends of which were tucked into his scruffy combat boots.
"Are you the guy that my sister asked for directions to her Physics class this morning?" his tone was casual and his posture was relaxed, yet Ibrahim's eyes were dead set on the guy. "The one who sent her the wrong way?"
Aryan, despite being a head shorter, didn't look the least bit intimidated. It seemed like trouble was something the kid was familiar with. He furrowed his eyebrows. "Dude, I don't even know your sister. I am sure you got the wrong guy."
Ibrahim knew there was a slight possibility that was the actual case. But the more he stared at that idiotic grin on his face, the more convinced he became this was the Aryan he was looking for, "Is that so?" Ibrahim folded his arms over his chest, making him seem even more intimidating if possible, and raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah." Aryan nodded, blinking innocently.
"So, you're telling me you're not the punk that found Dahlia lost in an empty corridor this morning and then sent her to the boys' room, knowing full that the hallway was empty and no one have heard her voice if something had happened?"
The mirth from Aryan's eyes disappeared quickly. He eyed the big guy, realizing soon he wasn't playing around, specially since it concerned his sister.
Aryan raised his hands and tried to pull off a charming smile that usually worked on the ladies. "You got me."
Too bad Ibrahim wasn't a lady. In fact, was raised a gentleman and always followed up to this reputation. He avoided resorting to violence and believed there wasn't anything that words couldn't solve. However, just the look on the punk's face lighted an anger in Ibrahim he didn't know he was capable of.
"Listen..." Ibrahim started as he raised one hand to lightly touch Aryan's shoulder, his voice turning hard.
"Hey man, I was just kidding," Aryan spoke up, losing the humor from his voice completely. "I didn't realize what I had done until you just dictated it to me."
Ibrahim watched him carefully, Aryan wasn't smiling anymore and he could sense sincerity in his voice. He let his hand drop to his side, deciding to believe the punk.
