A Pride & Prejudice and Little Women retelling
Farrah Hussain spent a lifetime hating Salman Bashir. At least that's what she liked to believe. When one fateful summer Salman changes his bad boy ways and comes back a new man, Farrah can't stop the l...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
....
Dahlia Ahmad was leaning against her grandmother's stuffy old bathroom.
She nervously bit her lips, watching as Faizan Iqbal crouched under a mosaic sink, twisting a nut or bolt of some kind.
It was a sight she never thought she'd see - Faizan Iqbal on her grandmother's anciently designed bathroom of all places, fixing a leaking sink. She knew if she told Shifa, the girl would never let her hear the end of it.
Dahlia's grandmother was snoring on the room right next to them. Nargis was staying in her own house, despite everyone's rigorous begging. The stubborn woman remained firm on the fact that she would rather die on her own bed than live somewhere else, so to everyone's despair, she was back into the old house.
The rest of the family decided to take turns to stay with her, feeling uncomfortable to let her stay alone in that house. So they all took shifts to ensure there was at least one family member staying with Nargis at all times.
Dahlia had been calling Ibrahim for the past thirty minutes, but there was no answer.
She was starting to regret putting herself in this situation. Them, actually. Dahlia peaked under her lashes and gave the handsome guy fixing her grandmother's sink another glimpse.
His presence affected her more than she could imagine. And she did not like it one bit. Also, the sudden thought of having to explain why she had brought him into this house made her regret her decision even more. She should have known better.
Now she couldn't wait for him to finish, or at least find out where Ibrahim was and if he was bringing any of the parents along. That was a situation she wasn't ready to deal with.
She let out a sigh and shifted her weight from one leg to another, agitatedly looking at her phone again to see if she received a message from her brother.
"You know, you're the one who asked me to come here," he spoke up, startling her as he broke the silence between them.
"Yeah, I know," she stated, feeling more unhinged with his gaze on her, wondering where he was going with this.
He was on one knee crouching under, his back to her. "Then why are you so impatient to throw me out of the house?"
Dahlia lowered her phone to face him. "I'm not," she replied briskly. "That's not what it is. I just can't wait for Ibrahim to arrive so I can go home."
"You're a terrible liar, Dahlia Ahmed." He looked over his shoulder and smiled, eyes sparkling playfully.
Her grandma's nurse, who was watching television with unusual intense interest, pretending like she couldn't see the young man working in the next room and the girl watching him work, discreetly increased the volume so that the commercial jingles reached them now.
