My Booklet Of TDSOW FanFiction.

FANFIC BY @SWEETIEHAFI

I kept running down the long, rocky, bumpy road. My feet were bruised and I could feel my feet sticking to blood within my shoes. I stood still to catch my breath and I noticed this beautiful sunset rising above the grassy fields of my city in Pakistan, and my family all around me, playing and smiling. I could see my parents calling me to eat lunch by the same tree we would always eat at, and my siblings swirling around me and laughing playfully and for once in a long time I had felt happiness. For once in a long time I smiled a true smile and not for anyone else's sake but for my own. The last thing I remember was falling down and passing out. It was all a dream. 

I woke up in a dark room. I sat upright from the bed covered in purple stain sheets with quilted embroidery. I quietly crept out of bed and walked towards the door, I reached out for the handle and before I could open it, a man dressed in a satin, black glossy suit with blonde hair covering his face held the door open. Without realizing, I started to whimper, shuffling backwards slowly, I backed myself into the corner of the room and sliding down to the floor and began to cry. My eyes were working by themselves, my persona of a tough Pakistani girl has been broken, I've never cried in front of a stranger before. My pride would not allow it. 

As I sat there sobbing, the figure standing in the doorway slowly approached me and knelt down and took out a satin handkerchief.

 

This guy loves satin I thought to myself but Instead of saying it I took the handkerchief and wiped my tears.

 

The stranger stood upright and said "Don’t be afraid."

 

Surprisingly I stopped crying and looked up to see his face. I couldn't see it because his blonde hair was everywhere but the voice, the voice was so familiar but I couldn't think whose it was. I kept trying to figure out who he was, breaking the peaceful silence the stranger spoke softly "Don’t you remember me?" I was astounded, he did look familiar but who was he? Then it clicked, I slowly stuttered

 

 "B-b-b-b-b . . . Blacksmith?" he smiled underneath his blonde locks.

 

 "Indeed” he brought out his hand to help me up, I took it and he held my hand. His touch felt so warm and made me feel all fuzzy. I realized this was all Haram; I jerked my hand away from his and stood back. Blacksmith turned around and chuckled slightly "I'm not going to kill you, I'm taking you downstairs, you're safe with me don't worry." I felt reassured and followed him down a long hallway with old paintings of his family and flowers. His rug was antique, red and old looking.

 

 "Whose house is this?” I intrigued. He chucked again, "My country house, I come here often to think about things; it used to be my grandmother’s.”

 

Cheekily I said "I can tell."

 

Blacksmith chuckled again "She gave it to me before she died.” A pain of guilt and remorse rushed through me.

 

"Sorry I didn't kn . . . ,"

 

"It’s fine, I'm cool with it, it was ages ago.” Blacksmith interrupted. He walked me down to the kitchen and gestured me to take a seat at the dining table. Doing as I was told I shakily sat down.

 

"Don’t be afraid, I wouldn't hurt you in any way" Blacksmith spoke softly. He was cooking eggs, beans and toasts—an average British English breakfast. "My grandmother was born in England, she would always make me this every time I saw her, it was our favorite meal. I'd only eat this food with her, after she died I never ate it again, but until now I feel like eating it again.”