When everything else was falling apart, Shehryar gave Laila the job as his assistant. Now here they are months later in a very symbiotic and platonic relationship until Shehryar's past comes face to face and he swears to destroy everything from his...
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kar rahā thā ġham-e-jahāñ kā hisāb aaj tum yaad be-hisāb aa.e
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She picked up the wallet, his blood stained the beige leather wallet. Her hands turned clammy at the sight of the broken glass and the traces of blood. Snapping out of the anxious haze, she dumped everything in her bag and ran after the man. Her heart slamming with fear in her ribcage. He was standing in front of the elevator. His hand was curled in a tight fist. Oh, God. The pressure was making him bleed severely, but he seemed to not even realize it. His jaw was clenched as he scowled at the numbers on the elevator. He punched the button with his bleeding hand. The hell. Did he not feel pain? What was he... hulk? And oh my god, he stained the wall. Ugh. She was going to convulsed at the sight of it.
" Ali Sir," She called after him, but he seemed to have turned deaf ear to her. His head was bent, his shoulders were sagging. "Sir." She stood behind him, but he ] walked into the elevator without even looking up. He leaned back against the back of the elevator, defeated. She followed him in. "Sir." She tried again.
"Miss Lubna, please stay back, before I lose it all." He rubbed his eyes with his left hand, his right hand was still bleeding. She scowled at him for messing up her name again, but she stayed quiet because Mr. Ali had decided to let his hand bleed and die in that elevator. She shivered at the sight of bloodstains on the pristine elevator floor. If he didn't care about himself at least he should have been mindful of the swanky elevator.
She shadowed him as he stepped out of the elevator. The guests and patrons turned their heads at them watching the blood drops trail from his hand, the turned to each other and then whispered. So insensitive. He had decided he was going to die bleeding but how rude to make a mess behind on the glossy marble floors.
Sliding behind the driver's seat, her eyes were still set on his bleeding hand. She gulped, her hands trembled. She was never the one to handle blood, but this man wasn't going to treat it any time soon, and she wasn't about to let him bleed all over the car. The cut must have been deep because even after minutes the blood still ran down his hand... oh and he was staining the pristine leather seats. She turned to him. He was staring out the window, his head resting back on the seat. He had been disheveled by the meeting. He seemed like he could use a year of sleep with he way tiredness covered him in a wave.
And then there was this guilt. If the man in front of her got amputated or died with the looks of it. She'd be forever down that spiral so she decided to treat him like the child he was and force the treatment on him.
matlab ajeeb insaan hai. Marna hai to koi tareeka dhondo. Ab kissi aur ko kyun guilt mein daal ke saath maarna hai.
