rini4everdreaming

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You thought you’d eventually get sick of the smell of flowers.

As a florist, you worked with flowers daily to the point that you thought you were numb to the sight and smell of them.

But, no.

Even three years into opening your florist, you still looked forward to walking into the sweet and earthy scent of flowers.

While the scent was not a problem, off late, the number of flowers that lay wilting in your shop was.

Over the last six months, you had seen your competitors close shop one by one, and your customers had dwindled.

Even your regulars - the old men that bought jasmines for their begums, and the young men who bought bouquets for theirs - were coming by lesser and lesser.

You had to get to the bottom of this.

You decided to head over to Salim chacha’s florist down the street to ask if he had any news.

—

“Chacha,” you entered his shop, only to see the man with his head in his hands, “Chacha, sab kahiriyat se hai?”

“Y/N,” he looked up. Salim chacha, though technically being your rival in the business, was the one who had shown you the ropes. He celebrated your wins like they were his own, and your failures were both yours to learn from.

To see the usually happy man down in the dumps scared you.

“Chacha, aap bade mayoos lag rahein hain?”

“Woh bas,” he took a deep breath, “mujhe dukaan bandh karni padegi”.

“Kya?”

“Bas aaj subah hisaab kar rahe the. Agar hum do aur mahine khule rahe toh main toh kangaal ho jaunga”.

“Par chacha, woh kyun? Yeh sab kya ho raha hai? Mobeena baji ne bhi pichle mahine dukaan bandh ki thi. Yeh sab kyun?”

You sat next to him, staring off into the distance.

“Yeh sab uss Rehman Dakait ki wajah se hai,” Salim chacha muttered, “Jab se usne apna export business khola hai-”

“Kya? Kaun?”

“Rehman Baloch. Woh, Lyari ka gunda,” he scoffed, “Uss ne kuch aath mahine pehle koi export business khola tha phoolon ka. Hum sab se bahut kam daam mein phool bechta hai. Isiliye hum sab ke gahak wahaan jaa rahe hain”.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking weary, “Chalo achcha hai meri bachchi ka nikaah toh ho gaya. Ab bas mujhe kisi tarah humare din ka dekhna hoga”.

You looked at the lines that seemed to have appeared on his face almost overnight, anger rising through you.

You stood up, “Chacha, aap fikr na karein. Main unse baat karungi”.

“Kya?” he stood up, and held your wrist, “Khabardar jo uske paas gayi. Tum jaanti nahi woh kya karta hai - aghwa karta hai logon ko. Upar se farzi bandook ka kaam, bhatah khuri, aur na jaane kya. Tum bilkul door rehna usse”. He let go of your wrist and looked into your eyes, “Aur ab tumhe bhi kisi aur kaam ke baare me soch lena chahiye. Uske daamon ka hum muqabla bilkul nahi kar sakte”.

After promising Salim chacha you wouldn’t get involved, you walked straight to Lyari to break that promise.

—

Surprisingly, he wasn’t hard to find.

Right near Cheel Chowk, where you had stopped for chai, you noticed a building that looked like it was one breeze away from crumbling into dust.

At the entrance was a green board with golden letters, “Baloch Rose Export House” and a gaudy red rose painted under it.

You finished the last of your chai and wiped your mouth before walking straight to the entrance.

“Mohatarma, kahaan jaana hai?” a bald man asked just as you came closer to the entrance.

“Rehman Dakait se milna hai”.

“Aap kaun?”

“Main Y/N, meri phoolon ki dukaan hai Kalakot ki taraf”.

The man’s furrowed brows eased a little and he smirked, “Bhai se ladne ka iraada toh nahi? Woh itni asaani se-”

“Aap ka naam?” you interrupted his spiel.

“N-naam?”

“Aap ka naam?” you repeated yourself slowly.

The man blinked, before saying, “Donga”.

“Achcha, Donga bhaisaab, mera Rehman Dakait se milna bahut zaroori hai. Unse kuch sawaal karne hain”.

“S-Sawaal”.

“Aap har baat repeat kyun karte hain?”

The man straightened up, looking miffed, “Aap yahin rukein, main check kar kar aata hun”.

He made you wait for seven and a half minutes (you counted), before reappearing and gesturing towards the door, “Chalein”.

—

The warehouse, if it could be called that, smelled of roses.

But not the way you were used to them. This smelled synthetic, like cheap perfume. You scrunched your nose as you walked through the dimly lit wall.

A group of three men side-eyed you as you walked into the main cabin.

Donga stood outside, “Aap jayein. Bhai ki bees minute mein dusri meeting hai, toh-”

“Mujhe sirf paanch minute chahiye,” you cut him off and entered the room without knocking.

The man in front of you didn’t appear intimidating, but when his gaze met yours, a shiver went down your spine.

“Rehman Dakait?”

“Ji,” he stood up, surprisingly polite, and gestured to the seat opposite him, “Donga bata raha tha aap ko mujh se kuch sawaal karne hain?”

You smiled up at him as you sat, “Ji haan”.

He returned to his seat and nodded, “Batayein”.

“Pehla sawaal - aap apne aap ko kya samajhte hain?”

“J-ji? Aap kya-?”

You leaned back into your seat, “Aap jaante hain ki aap ki wajah se pichle chhe mahinon mein paanch dukaane bandh ho chuki hain?”

“Dekhiye, aap zara tameez se-”

“Aur,” you interrupted him, “Aaj ek aur dukaan ko aap ki wajah se bandh hona padega? Aap ko kya khushi milti hai chote dukaanon ke haath se khaana cheenne mein?”

You huffed, “Main samajh nahi pa rahi thi ki aap apne phool itne saste daamon mein kaise bechte hain? Par yahaan aa kar pata chala ki aap toh asli phool bechte bhi nahin hain! Synthetic perfume wale phool bech rahein hai aap!”

“Bas”. His voice was low, but it shut you up immediately, “Aap sab ke business bandh ho rahein hain, iss mein meri koi galti nahi hai. Aap ko business chalan nahi aata hai, toh main kya karun?”

You got red in the face, and were about to retort, when a knock interrupted the tension-filled room.

“Haan?” Rehman called out.

“Bhai,” Donga opened the door, “Shirani saab aa gayein hain”.

Rehman stood up and looked at you, “Agli baar appointment le kar aayein. Waise bhi aap ko mujhse zyaada zaroori koi kaam nahi hoga”.

He left before you could scream.

—

The news of Zarwari’s death reached you just as you were exiting a meeting with a client.

Yalina Jamali was getting married to Hamza, who worked with Rehman. She wanted you to do the flowers for her mehendi - “Mujhe har kone mein gulaab chahiye. Green chhodo, meri mehendi toh ekdum red hot honi chahiye!”

You sat in your office, the news of Zarwari’s death playing in the background as you ran the numbers. With the cost of labour, you wouldn’t be able to afford the roses. Granted, the mehendi was a month away, but you didn’t have enough time to build capital for it. Yalina’s deposit barely covered the transportation cost.

You sighed, staring at your accounting books in front of you, when another thought hit you - would your vendor even be able to get you that large an amount of roses at such short notice? He’d definitely charge you a premium amount.

You wondered if there was a vendor somewhere in the city who could give you a massive amount of roses for a cheaper price.

The name struck you like a bolt of lightning and you groaned, head in your hands.

—

“Bhai, Zarwari saab ke liye ek achcha sa guldasta le kar jaana hoga,” Uzair insisted, “Image hi sab kuch hoti hai”.

“Woh sab toh theek hai, Uzair, par koi gulfarosh toh dikh hi nahi raha,” Rehman muttered, opening the buttons of his jacket.

“Bhai,” Uzair said sheepishly, “Woh toh humari wajah-” he cut himself off when Rehman glared at him.

The door burst open and the brothers looked up, stunned. You stood at the entrance nervously, clutching your bag tight.

“Bhai, main inko bas rok hi raha tha,” Donga entered the room, apologetic.

Rehman waved a hand to dismiss him, before turning to you, “Kaha tha na appointment le kar aana?”

“Aap ko Zarwari saab ke liye guldasta chahiye?” you said, breathlessly. You thanked your lucky stars you had overheard a bit of their conversation, which you were undeniably going to use as leverage.

“Aap ko kaise pata?” Uzair asked, but Rehman replied, “Bahar se sunn rahi thi”.

You nodded shamelessly, and sat on the couch next to Rehman, who moved away.

“Aap ke liye main ekdum behtareen guldasta banaungi. Aisa jisse kabhi kisi ne pure mulq mein nahi dekha hoga”.

“Aur badle mein kya chahiye?” Uzair asked, folding his arms.

“Woh. Woh, mujhe ek bada order mila hai. Uss ke liye gulaab chahiye. Ek mahine mein”.

Rehman let out a boisterous laugh, “Toh tumhein meri madad chahiye, par tum mujhe guldaste de kar mujh par ehsaan kar rahi ho?” He shifted forward, “Can you even afford the roses?”

You clenched your jaw, before smiling sweetly at him, “Yalina Jamali ki mehendi hai. Ab aap apne Hamza ki biwi ko khafa na karein”.

“Main khud us ke paas gulaab bhej dun, tum se kyun?”

“Kyunki aap bhijwa toh denge, unhein arrange kaun karega?”

“Woh hum dekh lenge,” Uzair snarked.

“Waise hi, jaise aap log Zarwari saab ke liye guldasta banayenge?” you asked, faking innocence.

Uzair’s jaw twitched, the beginnings of a smile right at the corner of his mouth, before he turned away.

Rehman shook his head at his brother, before turning to you, “20% discount pe gulaab dunga”.

You laughed, “Isse achcha toh main order hi gawa dun. Aap mujhe gulaab dein, main aap ko guldasta”.

“Yeh barabari ka exchange nahi hai,” he scoffed.

“Aap ke gulaabon ke daam ke hisaab se mera guldasta zyaada expensive hai”.

Uzair snorted into his fist, before leaving the room quickly.

Rehman looked at him leave with exasperation, before turning to you, “Mulq ne nahi dekha ho - aisa guldasta”.

—

The bouquet was incredible, Rehman had to admit. You met him at his warehouse before he had to leave for the janaza, with a massive wreath in your hand. He eyed it, noting that you had used premium flowers - expensive lilies, carnations, and roses - all in white.

“Isse behtareen guldasta wahaan nahi hoga, yeh meri guarantee hai,” you said, handing it over. Your fingers lightly brushed his as he gently took the wreath from you.

He nodded, “Gulaab do hafton mein tumhari dukaan pe aa jayenge”.

You nodded and looked around, “Aisa lag raha hai aap sab koi jung mein jaa rahein hai”.

“Yeh jung hi hai, bibi,” Uzair piped up from behind, “Ab Pakistan ko naya leader chahiye”.

“Zarwari saab ko guzre hue ek pura din bhi nahi hua hai”.

“Aap ko kya lagta hai, baaki sab kya kar rahein hain? Jameel bhai toh raaton raat hi wahaan guldasta le kar pahunch gaye the”.

You shook your head, “Khair, ab hum aam awaam ko kya pata”.

“Pata hona chahiye,” Rehman said, “Pakistan aap ka hai. Aap ki awaaz se hi aap ka neta chuna jata hai”.

You stared at him, before teasing gently, “Ekdum neta jaisi baat ki hai”.

You stood up, “Main nikalti hun. Jung ke liye all the best”. You waved at Uzair, nodded at Rehman and made your way out.

—

Salim chacha was at the venue, helping you create an arch, when Rehman came over. You looked at him, jaw hanging open, “Aap yahaan kyun aaye?”

“Aap ki gulaabon ki delivery ke liye”.

“Haan, par aap kyun aaye?” you emphasised. Salim chacha looked aghast.

“Hamza ki begum ka function hai. Koi kami nahi rehni chahiye,” he said, looking away. You noticed the back of his neck turn pink and looked away, noticing Salim chacha’s expression.

After he finally left, Salim chacha turned to you, “Tum ne gulaab Rehman Dakait se mangwaye?”

“Ji,” you said,eyes lowered slightly, “Aur koi vendor itne kam waqt mein delivery nahi de paa raha tha”.

Salim chacha folded his arms, “Tum jaanti ho, na-”

“Haan,” you interrupted, “Par mere paas aur koi option nahi tha”.

“Tum bas khayal rakhna,” Salim chacha said, “Jo woh dikhta hai, woh hai nahi”.

—

The function went without a hitch, with Yalina finding you in the midst of it, “Thank you! Decoration bahut sundar hai, aur phool kitne tazaa hai!” You smiled and nodded, your mind still stuck on Salim chacha’s words from earlier.

Halfway through the function, Hamza and the boys came in as well, Rehman trailing towards the end. He looked at the guys in fondness, before his eyes met yours. He sauntered over, almost too casually, “Aap ne mehendi lagwai?”

“Ji nahi, main kaam se aayi hun, mehman ki tarah nahi”.

He nodded awkwardly, before sighing, “Salim ne jo kaha tha, woh baat mujh tak aa gayi thi”.

“Aur?”

“Aur woh sahi keh rahein hain. Main jaisa diktha hun, waisa nahi hun”.

You scoffed, “Woh toh mujhe tab hi pata chal gaya tha jab aap ne itne saare gulfaroshon ki dukaanein bandh karwai thi”.

He shook his head, lightly smiling, “Aap sach mein gazab hain”.

“Thank you”.

“Woh compliment nahi tha”.

You huffed, “Aap yahaan function ke liye aayein hain na? Jaiye, mehendi lagwaiye ya naachein. Bas mujh se baat na karein”.

He laughed again, before joining the circle of men that had started to dance.

—

You couldn’t pinpoint how, but Lyari had changed. Suddenly, things were quiet. The streets seemed emptier, and the usual ruckus was nowhere to be found.

While it seemed like the end of times, you had something more important to focus on - your business. Or, well, the lack of it. You looked at the wilted stems in your hands, wondering if it was too late to start a potpourri business.

No one seemed interested in buying flowers anymore. It was almost as if the whole country was observing a mourning period in the wake of Zarwari’s passing. 

You were walking through Cheel Chowk, when you came across a massive poster with two very familiar faces on it. Rehman Dakait and Uzair Baloch on either side of the poster, with some message about a new dawn for Lyari on it.

You scoffed, walking past it, “Yeh sudhaarenge Lyari ko”.

“Bharosa nahi hai hum pe?” you heard Rehman’s voice from behind you. You whirled around, noting he was all alone today - no Uzair, no Donga, no entourage.

“Aap akele?”

“Aap bhi toh akeli hain”.

“Mera picha toh nahi kar rahe?” you asked cheekily.

To your satisfaction, a light dusting of pink covered his cheeks as he vehemently denied it, “Cheel Chowk mein sirf ek aap hi nahi guzarti hain”.

You turned back around, when he started walking next to you, “Waise aap kya keh rahi thi? Hum kyun nahi sudhaarenge Lyari ko?” 

“Lyari ke aam logon ke muh se nivala cheen rahein hain, aur bade aaye Lyari ko sudhaarne wale,” you turned to him, “ Aap jaise logon ki wajah se hi Lyari ki yeh haalat hai”.

“Mujh jaise log?”

“Ji haan,” you pressed on, “Wahi, jo gunda gardi kartein hain. Chote dukaanon se unka business cheen te hain”.

“Maine kahaa tha aap se, unka bandh hone se mera koi lena-dena-”

“Hai! Lena dena hai!” you teared up, “Mobeena baji, Salim chacha, aur ab main! Hum sab apna dhandha kho chuke hain!”

“Aap ka dhandha bandh nahi hone dunga”.

“Aur baaki sab ka? Aap apne aap ko logo ka neta keh bhi kaise sakte hain,” you shook your head in distaste and walked away, leaving him behind.

—

Three weeks had passed, and you were buried in your accounts, wondering how you were going to make ends meet. With no clear answer, you decided to head to Aalam’s Juice Shop for doodh soda, before returning home to stress cry.

You ordered your usual and sat in a corner, your eye catching the twelve o’clock news playing on the old television in the shop. As the newscaster announced the Rehman Dakait’s People Aman Committee was going to enter the elections this year, your eyes widened. How was it so easy for a thug to join politics!

But what made you spit your doodh soda out was the newscaster announcing that Baloch Rose Export House would also close its doors. You didn’t wait for the newscaster to finish his spiel, you grabbed your bag and stalked towards his warehouse.

—

When you reached the crumbling entrance, Donga didn’t stop you, he simply stepped away from the entrance, almost as though he had been waiting to see you.

“Yeh sab kya tamasha hai?” you burst in through the door, ignoring Uzair’s yelp. Rehman flexed his jaw, before looking at Uzair, who stood up and silently walked out.

“Tamasha?”

“Yeh - yeh Baloch Export House bandh karna! Ab jab sab gulfaroshon ko kangaal kar diya toh khud apna business bandh kar rahein hain?”

Rehman sighed, “Main politics join kar raha hun. Aur sach kahun, toh achcha neta ban’na chahta hun… Tum uss din sahi keh rahi thi. Lyari ke aam logon ke muh se nivala cheen’ne wala  Lyari ko kaise sudhaarega? Isiliye main sab sahi karna chahta hun”.

You sat down, dazed, “Aap yeh sab vote ke liye kar rahein hain”.

“Shuruat toh waise hi hui thi,” he confessed, “Par Cheel Chowk mein tumhari baatein sun kar laga ki tum sahi ho. Uzair se yahi baat chal rahi hai ki hum apne sab farzi dhande bandh karenge”.

“Itni aasaani se sab theek nahi hota hai”.

“Sahi keh rahi ho. Par kahin na kahin toh shuruat karni hogi”.

He stood up, “Waise iske baad tumhare paas hi aane wala tha”.

You looked up at him, “Kyun?”

He left the room for a second and returned with a bouquet of fresh red roses. When he handed them over to you, you smelled them, surprised with how fresh they smelled.

“Yeh aap ke phool nahin hai”.

“Nahi,” he admitted, “Salim bhai se mangwaye the. Khaas tumhare liye”.

He sat next to you and took your hand in his. You left it there, not commenting on the way his thumb had started to caress your knuckles.

“Aaj se Lyari ke har gulfarosh ko mera sasta maal nahi, balki meri hifaazat milegi. Jo bhi aap logon ko tang karega, woh mujh se milega”.

“Par un sab ki dukaanein wapis nahi aayengi,” you said quietly.

“Nahi,” his thumb stilled, “Par main wada karta hun ki aisa phir kabhi nahi hoga”.

You looked at the roses in your hands, “Aap yeh mat samajhna ki maine aap ko maaf kar diya hai”.

“Bilkul nahi”. You could hear the smile creep into his voice.

“Netaon ko sabr seekhna padhta hai”.

“Seekh hi raha hun-” 

You smacked his arm lightly, “Mazaak na karein!”

He sat up straight, “Bilkul nahi”.

You stood up, roses clenched in your hands and started to walk out. You stopped at the door and turned slightly, “Election ke baad, agar sab theek ho jaye, aur logon ki zindagi aap sach mein theek karein, toh aap ko Aalam bhai ke yahaan doodh soda pilaungi”.

He laughed lightly, “Main puri jaan lagadunga”.

You left the warehouse, a soft smile on your face, and the smell of fresh roses around you.

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Tag list cont’d. (If you'd like to be added/removed please let me know!) 

1 year back is when it all started, when you met Uzair; you didn't meet him in the literal way, there was no accidental bumping , no ending up in the same room at the same time ,no eye contact that stirred up sparks ,no fate that ordained them into a close proximity. 

In fact your worlds were vastly different, trying to find stars in the afternoon sky- a girl from an average well mannered respected middle family had no business being anywhere in the vicinity of people like him - ruthless crude mouthed gangsters reputed for all the wrong things. It was another bore of a duphahar, simple sleepy thats how you preferred it to be on your weekends after being exhausted and having your soul sucked by going to college all week a lazy 3 hour nap was all you needed it after stuffing yourself with all the aalo paraathe of the house, you knew that sleep was going to hit like nothing else ever had. 

You plopped yourself face down into the pillow inhaling away deeply at the scent of freshly washed covers eyes so heavy lidded one blink and you were snoring

“BANG”

And you were awake and stomping with the verve of a serial killer, eager to pass your doomsday judgment for the kid that decided to blow of firecracker at this time, when you drew closer to the balcony and  you realised it was not a fire cracker but an actual gun shot, loud and clear followed by one after another , your first instinct was to start crying assuming the worst since this was Lyari after all gang wars were no foreign but it never failed to rattle your nerves. 

Inara laughed at your puffy face, “ Ab kyu ro rahi hai” she was back for a few days after her wedding, here to torture you again  “ Aap has kyu rahi hoo?” “Kyunki pehli baar kisiko ek railey ko dekh ke itna rote hue dekha hai” “Railey?” you sniffle confused, the sleep finally wearing off, you stalked back to the balcony, out this time watching the crowd swarm the narrow gali with its tanker of a car, the gun going wasn’t violence for once but a show off , a celebration to their political win. Gangsters lined up, sitting on the bonnet mixed with the 100’s of people looking the way they did - rough,burly,dirty. “Kya hai yaar yeh gawaron ko abhi mujhe heart attack aa jaata toh” You whined, a big mistake to do so infront of your sister, “MujJhEEe heart aTTack aa jaaTA” She whined right back in a mocking tone, exaggerating the pitch of your voice. 

You sighed right back, eyes straying to the street again scanning over a swarm of people you would never understand, never understanding their violence their intentions and it was supposed to stay that way. Deviating from one unfamiliar face to other it landed on the man that quite wasn’t the center of attention not over the Rehman Dakait but a recognizable face - the one you have seen daubed on banners over shops, face botched by the low resolution, the colours off face squashed into something it wasn’t but here now in real life it was an astronomical difference to the man you saw in the pictures. 

It was breath taking, he was a gangster you knew it but his laughter looked so genuine and pure, the wrinkles forming by the corner of his eyes that laughter itself would have costed so many lives but shamelessly your heart beat like it haven't  since your first kiss, watching the forearms peeking through the folded sleeves of his pale blue pathani suit, watch him throw his arm around his friend, you could almost hear that spellbinding sound of him over the cluttered noise of everyone's overly  joyed cheer was it a second puberty? The one they mentioned happens after you hit 20 , but it certainly ignited something an obsession someone like you wasn't supposed to have. 

Uzair baloch, a name that had been scribbled on your diary everyday since, mentioned in all your prayers , the  cause of all the immeblic excuses you made to your friends to miss their parties to stand in a sweltry crowd, in overbearing heat,hiding face in a political ralley you didn't give two damns about just to catch a glimpse, one single glimpse of him far back on the stage still chuckling away about something, a cigarette mandatorily adorning his hand. 

The memory of when you heard his voice for the first time engraved in your head, the date on the tip of your tongue learned like your favourite song - 22 March.

 It was any other college day for you, walking idly after the class eyed fixed on the dusty road, kicking around pebble watching it tumble then following it after when you smelled the prodigious scent of his arrab attar passing by you in whiff of air, grumbling something about the weather being too hot  in a string of curses, not romantic, not sweet but real, the first thing you ever heard from his mouth wasn’t polished speeches like the one his brother gave but a real murmur he made to himself.

 His eyes didn't draw to yours at all didn't take a second look, passing by you as if you were the same as the other on side of you same as any stranger there, did not turn by to look at you like you were extraordinarily beautiful just walked by like he did like he would have to any stranger - and it was true to him you were a stranger, a stranger who know everything about him from the number plate of his car to the which watch he chose to garnish his wrist according to the suit he wore, knew who he is best friend was, noticed the always half undone laces of his shoes, or the route he took by after every boring speech he had to hear out of respect of his brother, knew the exact model of the gun that rested on his hip.

That emptiness of his walk away,stinged your heart you always knew it in the back of your head, swimming into your thoughts but you faced it face front that day it wasn’t healthy at all for you to be like this, rejecting boys left and right for a fantasy that you choose to believe in, for seeing a man more than anything he was - a mafia’s right hand. Old habits died hard; those intense fixations were not going to die with one instance of disappointment because with that day's realisation came also the fuel to his fire. You knew his scent now, and the tone of the voice he used with himself, heart constantly juggling logic and obsession for three months.  

Three months of you feeling a little free, in total 7 months of you scourging yourself with a delusion you finally had the courage to at least trying calling and brushing it off as a silly crush, found yourself going back into your daily rhythm into being the normal daughter you were supposed to be, to be prepared mentally to finish your college and get married to the most eligible bachelor your parents chose for you instead of drowning your head in a frenzy for a gangster. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹

You put up an Oscar level acting of a headache that kept getting worse by the minute shifting in your bed, so your parents will leave you behind from the humdrum of an event they were going to. When you heard the front door click, you waited half an hour before jumping out of bed scouring the wardrobe for the prettiest suit you had the one your mother only let you wear to special occasion, a white ivory silk dream of a kurta with intricate zaridhari work and today you were going to flaunt it to your friends. 

You stole the makeup from your ammi’s vanity, careful not to misplace anything because unlike her, her mother was very organised and knew the record of every item in the house. You dabbed a small amount of eyeshadow to your eyelids,blinked and watched the sparkle in awe, choosing a lipstick that suited your shade.

This was to show off to your friends when you went out today, but a small hope still glimmered in your head playing scenarios where Uzair would see you like this, “Stupid Stupid” You patted both your cheek with your palms. 

You giggled in the market place giving your friends the third twirl of the day all while they hyped you up, hearing the bangles you lended from your mom's box chime with your sway. 

Uzair watched hypnotised by the movement, by the kick of your feet against the ground when you turned, the echo of your giggle that carried to him from the distance, and comfort of his ‘own' space. He wasn't at work today, just doing his usual awaragarda with friends, stopping the car by the side of a busy market to take a break from their legs cramping from sitting inside for so long. He leaned against the car, watching the smoke cloud his vision then dissipate into the air, he scowled at his friends gawking at the girls, 

“ Abbe yeh sab karne aaye ho tum chutiyon? Yeh backchodi mere saamne mat karo”  he flicked off his cigarette feeling rather weary today despite it being an off day , “ Kyu darte ho kya ladkiyon se Uzair bhai?” Uzair's eyes turned to Hamza for him to speak in like he usually did but he was busy on his phone with his girlfriend, he raised his head back up reluctantly to turn to the other side but in between it caught his eyes. The group of four girls tittering and walking straight into the lane, and then you the same girl he saw that humid day, why did he remember you specifically he doesn't know 

 He was enthralled- “Bolo na darte ho kya bhai?”  

UZAIR UZAIR UZAIR! HOW THE HELL WAS HE HERE! UZAIR HE WAS THERE AND HE WAS LOOKING AT YOU, NOT LOOKING STARING AT YOU!!

Your brain stopped working, the fuse going off his eyes were directly at you after 7 excruciating months your prayers had been answered, then will follow the slow descend you thought of eyes meeting now, will shift into conversations and then a slow love-HE IS WALKING TOWARDS YOU NONO NONO NO!! 

This was supposed to be your anticipated movement of the whole year and , and your body was on an adrenaline rush as if you were being chased by a bear , you wanted nothing more to disappear, to dull out some of the red blooming on your face. You eyes found the floor and then lifted to find him again in quick succession with each look up he was closer than before till he was there really there standing right in front of you, staring right down at you.

You brushed the non existent lock of your hair falling onto your face back behind your burning ears, the voice of your friends going quiet over the arrant leverage of his silence. You gulped down, hoping to allah your voice doesn't come out squeaky when you answer to whatever he says. 

“Mashallah kabhi tum jaisi haseen ladki nahi dekhi” it was meant to be his usual charm but what came out was a soft vulnerable voice that ended stunning him himself, “ J.. Ji?” You squeaked out after a long 10 seconds, your throat didn't support you this time but it surely will on the next reply

"Kyun? Kya itni pyaari larki ke liye ye jaan'na mushkil hai ke wo mujhe behad khoobsurat lagi?” “ H-huh” who says huh to a compliment???? “ Thankyou” You squeaked again, adding to your foolishness. 

You looked naive, he thought watching you flutter those eyelashes eyelids closing and opening over those bambi eyes, a fairly easy target would probably believe everything he told you and you didn't need to be charmed , saving up his breath and energy and the time to convince you he ignored the actual pounding of his heart, reminded himself that this was just a dare from his friends, a small caper for him to pass his time.

He knew it wasn't right then again half the things he did weren’t either and it wasn’t hidden what he did, put in plain sight almost taking honour in the havoc they caused, 

“ Wahan dekha to tum kuch apni si lagi... kahin pehle milay hain kya?”

“Kya naam hai tumhara?” “ Y/n” “Kabhi Kiamari dekha hai?” he asked strangely memorising the tourist guide book you had in your hand that day “ N.. Nahi” “ Mere saath dekhne chalogi”

You nodded and suddenly you were on a bike, with a man not just a man - a man you have only seen in dreams- Uzair Baloch , forced to have your hands wrapped around his waist ( not that you were complaining)

The city was something you hadn't seen before, you had pleaded your parents to go there since it wasn't so far but all you heard was a no, the farthest they took you was to Karachi so obviously this freedom and him had your head swimming, if it was any other place with all you would have done was stay quiet, flushed cheeks, probably playing with your dupatta but you knew this town, had a list of places you wanted to explore see the cafes a concept that did not exist in Lyari.

You had been laughing the whole time, taking time in between to admire him, up close you could see the flaws of his that only made him look more perfect more endearing to your heart, watched the way he didnt mind when you snort laughed, stepped back to let you spend your energy how you pleased, running up mall escalators, to buying one cup each to try the flavour, he was quiet but you could feel the intensity of his eyes he did not laugh with like he did with his men but scrrutinized you for something you didn't knew, but at least he was looking at you right, and not looking you down like you were foolish.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹

The loud whirr of that life came to a blur when his bike ceased the engine stopping with a low buzz. Stopped in front of a hotel, at 2 in the morning  “Yaha kyu roka Uzair?” “ Itni raat ko vaapis jaane mei time lagega” you nodded, it was reasonable your home was still hours ago from here  and he must have been tired out as well but looking up at that steep building had your alarms going off. You stood by the end of the of the reception, very back no chance for people to misinterpret anything between you and Uzair because you were the decent girl from a decent house and don't want even strangers to construe your character and intentions wrong. 

Uzair leaned into the counter whispering low enough only for him and the receptionist to hear “kitne room khaali hai” “Chaar-” Uzair slided the fresh green note onto the polished wooden surface, the receptionist repeated this time louder “ Ek hi room hai”  your ears shot up finding Uzair's eyes and the calm look on his face “ Kya tumhein is se koi masla hai?” he said like it was passing news you overreacting would be the weird one here. “nahi” You whispered back. 

The hallway was dimly lit, only the sounds of some tv playing live action from on the of the many doors, you walked behind him by a few steps, heart twisting into a jumbled mess, feeling your heartbeat all the way to the back of your neck feeling a nervous itch there. He paused and you didn’t notice eyes affixed to the floor while he waited till you catch up only noticing the closeness when his hand found its descent from the start of your side to your hip sliding it down. You blinked once then found it unable to close your eyes for a fraction, all the thoughts swimming in your head went blank- nothing wrong with going into a hotel room with a man you just met today “Theek hai?” he asked but his hands were already moving to the handle twisting the knob to the side, the clicking sound of it opening settled the finality of it all.  

He waited till you nodded your airy head nod, how could your head would have worked ‘normally’ think about morals and your novelty and to remain that ingenue to the world the simple girl who was to remain simple live the life others did, go down the way many girls before you did, your sister did when he was touching you in a way you in this way, in a way that couldn’t have been explained by nothing less than a start of a catastrophe. You were inside that room now, novel and unseen, a double bed in the middle, a decent table drawer to put things and no couch in sight.

You searched for an exit from this feeling in your stomach that you had been unacquainted with all your life, his presence itself was dizzying. “ Fresh hona hai, bathroom hai yaha?”  Uzair nodded to the door in one corner, spinning around the bike key on his fingers. You treaded slow to hide the rush of blood into your heart, cooly closing the door behind you. Splashing the cold water on your face you tried to maintain some semblance of control ,the day was a fairytale in the a place you have always wanted to experience with a man that you have been infatuated with months now then why did it feel wrong, why did you feel your heart in your throat. With another splash of the water, your eyeshadow wore off a little - you could only stare at yourself in the mirror the passing minutes watch the droplets rum down your neck. 

The time you exited back into that oddly stuffed up space, Uzair was occupied watching out the window, looking unphased. You planted into the mattress taking time to clear your throat before speaking , the words died in your throat at the sight of him walking to you, settling right beside you. 

“Neend aa rahi hai?” He asked his voice hoarser, deeper than it had been all day, “ Nahi” You breathed out in one pathetic jittery breath, felt the weight of his hand before it even touched your skin, hovering in the air before finding place at the open back of your kurti. He drummed his fingertips against the soft skin, running down the line of your back till the part it was bare, you shivered in response, cheeks flushed to oblivion. You couldn't get yourself to speak up, fidgeting with the hemline of your kurti, the slow contact forcing you to relax before it came to it's abrupt end, his fingers gently pulling at the dori watching it fall open in one smooth go

You gasped first, hand tightening at the silk then came the tepid protest “ Yeh kya …kar rahe ho Uzair?” he didn't reply just raised his eyebrows, chuckling ,completely dismissing the question, leaning closer till all you could smell was him over the dash smell of the hotel room . He shifted slightly, till he was sitting on his face side watching your flustered side profile, both hands going to wrap around the soft of your waist , crossing your stomach and backside caging you in from both front and back. You froze once again brain refusing to work or fight against this dangerous situation, he bowed his head further till it touched your neck, trailing hot kisses down the arc, your body squirmed once but instantly surrendered when he tightened his grip but your face scrunched up turned to the other side hiding in your shoulder blade, giving him access to more of you unintentionally. 

His lips finding it's descendant from kissing to sucking on the delicate flesh, inhaling her very existence  “ Uzair kya kar rahe ho?” Another protest this time more confident, you were scared; scared in the way you knew where this was going and you wouldn't stop it. Your hand pushed at his chest, he just smirked against your skin blowing warm air to the part he wetted. You almost moaned out, before biting back your lips determined to get the refusal out of your lips this time “ Uzair choro!” followed by your shriek you expected the natural step back only to find his smirk widen “ Kyun? Tumhein accha nahi laga?” He asked the dreaded question, the one you found hard to answer under his preplexing gaze, you swallowed hard lowering your gaze right back. 

“Mujhse nazrein mat churao y/n” he said breaking off the silence, “ Yahi baat mujhse nazrein mila kar kaho, man yaqeen kar lunga” you steadily turned to face him nescient to the upshot yourself, of what could possibly pursue after this and whether you would have be able to even mutter those words again, you looked him right in the eyes after much effort and then suddenly it did not feel hard anymore, they felt familiar like a feeling you had known your life as simple as sleeping comforting as the winter sun. Your lips parted, eyes closed in surrender. 

Naive, so stupid; one sweet talk and you were already complying is what he wanted to tell himself to statisy that ego, to statisy the idea that's all it was a small game his friends started. He watched the curve of your cheek, traced it with his rough finger felt that breath hitch, lips tremble under his hands. Innocent so innocent; he adored those long eyeslashes, flush of those pink lips your tongue  darting out nervously to wet the surface tucked the finger under her chin. He pressed his lips slow against your succulent lips, devouring them patiently. 

He hums deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your skin, and holds your jaw firm to keep you in place. His other hand slides slow down your spine, pressing you closer, and he kisses you again, deeper this time, like he’s staking his claim right into your bones he chuckles when your fingers twist into the front of his suit. 

You laid pressed into the matress, quivering when his clothes rubbed against your bare skin, face in a helpless bliss eyes fluttering close at the unfamiliar pleasure. He sucked the hard peeks, twirling his tongue around the aching nipple , he moulded them together, pressing the tender swell together greedily galloping and kneading it switching in between both. Your hips bucked involuntarily pressing his hardness against your quaking thighs, “mhm?” He asked mouth full, you quesily tugged at his suit shyly telling him the need to feel him skin to skin.

"Itna lalach, jaan-e-man...?" 

He teased, dragging his tongue up the hollow between your chest to your neck, nipping the end of your ear, your whole body jerked , fisting your hands into the sheets, he pulled back taking away the delerious heat with him, sitting on his knees he pulled of the suit off his body in one clean go maintain steady eyes contact that made you wonder if he could smell your arousal, the one dampening the fabric of your salwaar forming a small visible spot on the pure white. He caged you back in his arrest, engaging your mouth with his once again, hand snaking down your stomach to undo the drawstring of your bottom tugging it open in go like in the same he did to your salwaar, chuckling roughly as a routine when your hand clutched at his wrist to stop him. 

“ Mujhe dar lag raha hai Uzair maine yeh sab pehle nahi kiya” you whispered urgently to snap some seriousness into him, he paused the frown painting his face and body- he didn't knew it even though it was fairly easy to make out you weren't as experienced but you kissed back good enough, let him touch you in the first place so he assumed you must have done this before. This wasn't part of the plan, he didn't want to take someone's first he never had but the stainless desire on your face made him think otherwise. 

"Darna kaisa? Pehli baar toh sab hi darte hain... thodi si takleef hogi bas,har baat ki ibtida hoti hai meri jaan” he persuade, letting you grip onto his wrist for anchor and for a small illusion on control. 

He slid your chaste panties down to your legs discarding it off to the heap of cloth by the foot of the bed, where rest of your scrapped shame rested. Holding in a laugh after seeing the dainty ribbon there, you were wet that only worked to falter his control finger going to part the sensitive lips and press against the callow entrance, thumb going to rub the clit. Even that small feeling burned, you called out urgently again, shaking your head side to side  fiercly,  “Bas karo, please... main yeh nahi kar sakti, mujhe dard ho raha hai” "Bas ek second... phir sab theek lagega.” he tried again, pressing more intently,"NAHI.. mujhe nahi karna “ You sniffled nails digging into his wrist. 

He pulled back irritated at himself for pushing this far, frustated at the tear glistening your eyes  

“Ek baar meri baat maan kar toh dekho, zara sa bhi dard nahi hone doonga... , bharosa kar mujh pe” he cooed against your face, his frame covering you whole in an embrace that ate away at all your fears , you nodded finding yourself slipping easily into his words. 

He fixed both your legs over his shoulder, delving his face into your wet before you could even comprehend what's happened he pressed a mind breaking reverent kiss to to the sensitive clit, your whole body jumped at the shame of being kissed at the part that you have considered impure your whole life “ WAHAN NAHI UZAIR”  with a dark triumphant grin he dived in lap and circling the small bead in his mouth, seizing it in to torture you with all those overwhelming emotions at once, your hips arched up the bed which he claimed as well, pressing hard on your hips till they  were stuck back into the mattress again, keeping you still for his consuming. 

When you were already a trembling mess,a devotee to the new feeling is when he liked the stripe down your whole womanhood thrusting his tongue into the now gaping hole, it didnt hurt not at all he meant what he said but the mind numbing pleasure thrashed your body with each deliberate thrust of his tongue,his thumb joining in the flow rubbing your clit in firm tight circles. Your hand ravelled into his hair trying to unlodge his face out while simultaneously trying to trap him with your thighs, an attempt he punished with a soft slap to your thighs. He pulled back only to breathe the warm air over the trembling flesh watching your hips jerk up uselessly the knot in your stomach tightening dangerously, he had been eating you for god knows how long maintaining a steady rythm to his movements, and he didnt seemed to get tired at all if anything even more hungrier to watch such a naive face drowning in pleasure.

He submerged himself back in between your thighs with a inhumane hunger, slurping at your insides the juices gushing down his face catching at your beard but he didn't care vigorously eating you out . The rough stumble adding to your overstimulation along with the hums and growls he let out vibrating through your whole being, pulling him closer violently with his hair.

You were reaching a new high, moans slipping out shamelessly with you begging for him to not stop now, thighs cramping trembling ready to release is when he did the cruelest, pulled back heaving deeply.” Uzair” You whined wiggling your hips, he inserted two thick long fingers into your cunt and watched them slide in easily, eliciting a broken whimper out of because before you could enjoy the fullness he had already pulled out, leaving you squirming with pending pleasure.

“Uzair” you pleaded, clawing at his chest, the thrill making you do things you would have never thought of.

" Abhi nahi meri jaan, mere bina nahi"

His hands worked in the darkness freeing his hard manhood that had been pulsing since he tasted you, you had been slobbering nonsense when you felt it press on your entrance hard and heavy and instantly shut up. Before you could ask, he sinked in slow your face crumpling at the flaring stretch the lewd loud noise of his thick head entering your body  “Uzair condom-” “ Kuch nahi hoga barosha rakh mujh par” he grunted pressing his forehead against yours , his breath coming in harsh pant an ordeal to his arousal. You flailed in his arm feeling him push in inch by inch till he buried himself to the hilts “ Ya allah” a raw moan graced his lips at the tightness, clenching his jaw hard to stop himself from moving, your eyes had rolled back into your skull you couldn't feel or listen to the burning pain of your body  over the edacious hunger for that release, you urged him to move despite the tears brimming in your eyes. 

He moved slow and sensual scratching that itch just enough to send your toes curling delaying your end so many times you had lost every control of your body, nail carving half moans and lines across his defined muscular abs, legs wrapped tight against his waist even without his direction, when you had started crying from the lack of relief is when he shifted elevating your hips with the assistance of the pillow snapping his hips in short quick thrust pulling out just an inch before plunging right in hitting that spot each time, your vision went white mouth open in  a quiet gasp, he inhaled the vision of your wreckage with predatory eyes, watched the hypnotic movement your chest bouncing with each push, the drool leaking down your lips without your own concise. All you heard was the embarrassingly loud sound of your arousal squelching around his length hungrily, the sound of bodies slapping together and him whispering sweet nothing right into your eyes, encouraging you to take more.  

He felt you tighten impossibly hard and forced you to face him, forced you to meet his eyes , patting your cheeks to bring you back into your senses “ Meri taraf dekho” you barely obeyed, eyes threatening to roll back any time but quiet demand did more than enough surrendering yourself to the unknown. You let go on his dick convulsing and sobbing he followed soon after barely pulling out in time to come on your stomach. 

It was supposed to be a one time thing he thought, but he had you tucked into his chest refusing to let go of the only pure thing he had held in his hands, twirling the long wave in between his finger, soon enough playing with every feature now that was bare from the makeup and in every sense, tracing the line of the dried up tears, your steady breath warm against his skin, face squashed up and flushed with sleep. He wasn't letting go, not now never. 

That one night turned into hundreds of meetups and you were his girlfriend - a dream come true on paper but it was way complicated than that he was a crude man never hesitated to use his crass languages with only toning down the string of abuses because he believed in never cursing in front of you, all your friends told you he was a bad news that his sweet charm only returning at night wasn't just a warning sign, it was plain truth on a platter that he wasn't the right boy, but you were not going to listen  not when your wish had come true and the validation that came with being with him. Owing to the fact that he had a possessiveness over you that you had never experienced before even if he never said he loved you, he always insisted that you were his bandi, watching the confession die at the tip of his tongue at the last movement. He did not have to lie did not had to make up excuses because you already did that for him in your head.

Your relationship with your mother wasn't a simple one, wasn't the natural one it was ought to be, your mother loved you but she didn't like you couldn’t sit with the truth of your life that you weren't an extraordinary child and to her the mortifying realness of you not being the obedient daughter was enough for a mother to let go of her own child. She didn’t abandon you in the clearest way, it wasn't written it was never said but the silence that persisted between you two said otherwise, you were dear to her as long as you listen, the second you retaliated you were met with a cold wall instead of the warm hands one would seek from their mothers, passing days without speaking a word, tailing her around crying begging till she will finally spoke to you was a routine now a routine you were letting go the more you grow up, her losing that ascendency over her pet had turned the already fragile relationship more fragile,and the idea embedded into your head, if you don't do what they want you will lose them. 

You had moved awkwardly over him , straddling his rigid thighs, your back and legs sore from the position, he tried guiding you several times, holding you by the soft of your waist teaching you how to roll your hips and find where it feels good yourself. He smoked imperturbably, so collected as if you werent trying to fuck yourself on his dick addding onto your humilliation, “ Mujhse nahi hoga” You whined hiding your sweat slick self into his shoulder, he tutted once twisting the cherry into the headboard, groped your your both cheeks and started bouncing you up down his length, forcing you to swallow it till his tip grazed your cervix over and over, ramming into you with powerful thrusts and always made sure you released first, following after you splurting out his fluid into the condom. He lit back up another cigarette without a word, massaging the back of your head, sweeping the wet hair to the side, “ Mujhse toh aaj bhi nahi hua” You whispered nervously searching his face for the disappointment that never came “ Toh? Itna dar kyu rahi hai?test thodi le raha tha tera” he grumbled, kissing your forehead. 

“ Mujhe bhi peeni hai” You snuggled more, climbing up his body further, eyes fixed on the cigarette,blinking those bambi eyes at him even while making this request. “Pagal hai, ghatiya cheez hoti hai yeh sab” he blew the smoke away from you, grip solid at your back  “ Tum bhi toh peete ho” You pouted, and much like you Uzair found it hard to say no to anything you asked him. “ Meri baat alag hai” “ Doo naaaaa” You clinged, wrapping your arms around his neck peppering kisses to his beard covered jaw “ Please please na ek baar bas ek baar, promise sirf ek baar”

He shushed you with a kiss, exhaling out the smoke into your mouth. You coughed wheezing instantly, he patted your back in response, feeling you tremble over him, “ Hogya?” “ Cheating thi yeh” “ Nahi toh, abse mat boliyo” He spanked your bottom and you only giggled burying your chest back into his chest. The afternoon sun muted from the thick curtains, finding  some solace in belonging to this man, anything you talked about for in the future it wasn't for just ‘you’  what ‘you would do’ it was ‘us’ in every instance, that he would be there something you never asked of for him on your own but you were more than glad he did. 

“Uzair ek baat bolu” “ Haan bol” he teased, teeth pulling at your cheeks “ Mujhe tum tabse pasand hai jis din pheli baar tujhe dekha tha?” “ Haan toh? Voh toh mujhe pata hi hai” “ Nahi..voh.hotel waale din nahi” He eyes shot up before he forced them to relax, “ Fir kab?” “ Usse 6-7 mahine phele meri gali se tumhari voh nikammi party ki ralley nikli thi tabse” You faced him gathering some courage, gulping down your coyness to see the reaction he would make, shock? Happiness? Anything but he simply didn't react reply back with a cut short ‘hmm’ 

Did you fuck up? Was he going to leave you? Were you being too clingy? Climbing up all on him whining like a kid it must have icked him off, after all you couldn't even move properly over him could you? And the one time you tried to suck him you ended up vomiting all over him- 

“I love you” He whispered out the words he had heard in those english movies that he watched once in a blue moon, feeling it easier to say them to you in a language he did not speak, so it did not feel too real despite of how hard his heart was beating, how flushed his cheeks were, his pronunciations were a little off but you couldn't care less, those small three words had drained out every thought swimming in your head, you had never seen him this flustered, this vulnerable unable to look at your face. “Kya kya? maine suna nahi” you giggled again trying to see his face, the laugh dying in your throat when he finally faced you, eyes meeting your with a seriousness and honesty you had not seen before. “ Pyaar karta hoon tujhsa” You smiled small and slow, “ Mai bhi” 

Your relationship took a turn once the love had been declared, you  listened to almost everything Uzair asked you of, asking you to pleasure yourself on late night calls when you would hesitate. He would just react with a sweet,charming  “Mujhse pyaar nahi karti?” that had your resolve crumbling, fingering yourself pumping those little finger that were no comparison to what he had made you used to, biting into the pillow coming pathetically on your own hands all while being on a call with him .agreeing into something that had you feeling ashamed the whole night after. 

Some days you would look past your fixation see the messed up man you were with, but those feeling were overshadowed as soon as they come with the genuine laughs and time you had spent with him, the night he had spent sneaked into your house, because you were sick , in spite of the work he had next day he didn't budge sitting by the bed the whole night till you found some relief, the time you bled all over his new car seat and started crying scared to upset him, he scolded you for even thinking that way and got you a tub of ice cream.

Drove three hours out the town to get you jeans and tops because you mentioned your parents not buying them for you once, and breaking the nose of the guy who whistled at you when you wore them and walked down the street. 

You sat in the passengers seat , while he drove you to the college his men in sitting in the back he was supposed to be on a mission but of course it was too hot and you didn't want to take the bus so therefore here you were yapping his ears off in front of everyone, he on the other hand tried hard to hide the twitch the of his lips.

The second you left the car, his man broke  into snickers about how far this joke had come, he despised how it all started, wanted to confess to you tell his man to shut the fuck up but too afraid to let them know he lost in his own game,  when everyone had left except Hamza, he didnt hesitate to call out Uzair“ Pyar karta hai us se toh kyu uska majak bana raha hai,bahut pachtayenga Uzair”

He had disappeared for a week without a word prior to it, everytime you tried and ringed his phone no answer came from the other side, you were scared that he was hurt, scared he finally got  bored of you because of how unrealistically this whole thing had started the whispers from your head getting louder becoming the voice in your head no matter how hard you tried to reason with yourself.  Unable to calm the nauseating feeling in your stomach ,you rushed to run down the flat you both spent most of your time in, finding the door unlocked.

You entered the lived in room, his phone right there on the bed stand, sheets rumbled, shirt thrown on the floor he was here already 

“ Meri jaana kaisi hai” he chuckled, getting a hold of you from behind running slobbery kisses all over your neck.

“ Uzair kya hai yaar??!Tum panch din se gayab ho ek call nahi kar paaye? , aur aate hi yeh sab karne lage!”  

You shouted, the anger and betrayal evident in your tone, he was here so why wasn't he picking up ignoring you on purpose you couldn’t see any of him this way, did not notice the wounds on his whole body, his drained out face. He exhaled deeply, pulling off with a harsh mutter.

“Bhenchod ek toh mar ke mar aao usmien bhi aata hi ladai shuru kar deni hai is mohatarama ko, pak gaya ho yaar nahi hai mujh mei inti taqat ki din bhar tujhe manata rahu” he groaned, you instantly turned back with even more vexation than before at his tone and he cursed out infront of you that was so not him , but all you saw was evidence of violence on his face and body 

“Uzair” Guilty you treaded to him “ Mujhe baat hi nahi karni please” he turned all the way away from you, facing the wall with an unreadable expression, muscles stiff  “Uza-” he didnt let you finish this time cutting you off with a snarl “ Mujhe baat nahi karni, akele chor de mujhe, sab apne ghar pe araam kar rahe hai mai hi chutiya hoon joh yaha aaya ” 

“Sorry” you whispered blinking back tears, he didn't reply, started working on his mundane task like your werent there “ Sorry Uzair tum call bhi nahi utha rahe the, mujhe..kuch samajh nahi aa raha tha” You tried explaining all that came out was squeaky mumbling, the soreness in your throat growing. 

He ignored you breaking down behind, contemplating himself if he went too harsh, your concern was valid but he couldn't sit with the idea of you not trusting him, the one he has spilled most of his heart to. You were in your kitchen again following behind your mother to talk to you, to forgive you for scoring less on a test than she expected, with your shaky hands, strenuously  you pulled the clothes off your body determined to make up for all the time you think you had ‘ disappointed’  him. He didnt hear the rustle of your clothes being undone or the start of your sniffles, with his head swarmed with thoughts on how to turn back and apologise, how to break this silence when you had stopped speaking yourself. 

Your bare body squashed against his bicep, your wrapped your arms around them sobbing openly “ Joh karna hai karlo, mai nahi rokungi please mujhe mat choro” Uzair felt for a movement that he had been hit by a truck hearing the raw pain and desperation in your voice, he crushed you against his chest in a second. Hands trembling, careful not to break you any further tears brimming into his own eyes.

You wailed all your insecurities onto his skin, naked in a way you had never been before confessing about all the fears that had been growing wines over your body a truth you thought you would take to your grave, about how you had been ruined now by being with him and if he left you would be nothing. 

Your head throbbed with how hard you had been crying, still mumbling his strong hands were wrapped so tight  she believed her ribs would crack ,but it would be a grateful death. In between the blur of your tears, you were now hoisted up on the bed, he kneeled without pride, burying his face into your lap explaining away all of your questions, with devoted kisses to your hand in a form of unsaid apologies

"Main hi saala chutiy- paagal hoon, mujhe tujh par gussa nahi nikalna chahiye tha, kabhi bhi nahi. Mujhe pata hai tu mujh se pyaar karti hain par tu nahi samajhti ke main kis qadar tere liye pagal hoon. Yeh baat mujhe kehni chahiye thi. Agar tu na hoti na, toh mera koi wajood hi nahi tha. Is liye please mujhe chhor kar mat jana, kabhi bhi nahi.Sochna bhi mat mujhse door hone ka." 

You wiped the tear dropping forming at the end of his eyes, “Shaadi karoge mujh se?” “Pagal hai kya? Tujhse nahi toh aur kis se karunga” he giggled  moving up to cup your face, “ Sorry ab nahi hoga, pakka varna ek chaata maar diyo” you shook your head laughing in between your cries. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

That night in the stuffy air of your house, you rejected the ‘good’ rishtha your mother has brought up for you, greeted with a silence that will now ensue for months if you did not submit to her demand. But you were not going to this time, to let her manipulate your need for a mother into giving up all you had for the half conditional love she was going to give, ignoring your fathers questions about who you had been whoring out with to deny such a decent match all your heart fixed on making the birthday gift for Uzair, knitting a long woolen muffler. It took you a month to complete it, finding time on nights after college, by avoiding even Uzair’s calls telling him off that you were busy. 

And it was complete, a maroon scarf sprayed your perfume he loved, taking the auto to his factory to wish him a birthday face to face, Uzair on the other hand never cared for his birthday, it was his parent’s death anniversary all he cared for the call that will come, to see that ‘Jaanu’ flash upon his phone screen but it never came, not on midnight not this morning and you had been pushing off conversations for months now, he was caving, yearning to hear from on top of that he was scolded by his brother last evening in front of everyone, some of his men even shared cackles in the background adding onto his scowl mood. 

By 2 his tongue had gone bitter snapping at everyone around him, switching his attention between the whole bottle of alcohol in his hands and the cell phone where he imagined your message would come mood going darker by the second, his men knew he was swooned that’s why they loved teasing him with your name in the first place, to watch their boss shy away from a conversation was a rare sight. Disregarding the look on his face, one of his men still went up laughing out in his crass voice.

“ Kya bhai aapki mashooka nahi aayi aaj?”the man went half quiet when you squeezed in through the rusted metal, door in a place where you certainly did not belong at all “Mat puch kya chep insaan hai, picche hi pad gayi hai meri” Uzair let out an ugly grunt,slurring over his words drunk and enraged, 

you stopped in place 

“ Aisa mat bolo Uzair bhai” “ EK BAAR , EK BAAR ki baat toh thi tum logo ke khene mei maine usse befkoof banaya ab toh voh jaise meri jaan ke peeche hi pad gyi hai, koi insaan itna befkoof kaise ho sakta hai,Matlab, maine jo jhoot bola, usne aankh band kar ke yakeen kar liya, yaar!”

he threw away the bottle harshly, cringing himself at the loud noise of it breaking the pieces scrambling catching light from the half broken window , running his hand through his waves breathing low when he saw you.

a/n- AH SO SORRY to the rehman and iqbal girlies I just write jis cheez ka mujhe phle idea aa jaye, and I know this was veryyyyyyyy long but I hope you all liked it, I have three Rehman and three Iqbal one shots on the way!! NEXT PART WILL CONTAIN MORE SPICE cause i got too intrested in the story wow

Note - Please dont everr interact with men who only want to use you for your body,this is just a fictional story real life men dont have redemption arcs, stay away from toxic man <3

The tranquility of the lazy Sunday afternoon at Baloch Haveli was rudely interrupted by an angry yet firm voice. You were stopped at the gate by two men, one who looked like a Sumo wrestler on diet while the other looked as if he overdid the fake freckles trend. 

‘Mujhe Uzair Baloch se milna hai’ you repeated,  your tone as calm and indifferent as it could be when dealing with henchmen of dreaded gangsters.

‘Are par aap hai kon?’ the bald man asked, looking unimpressed

‘Aap mujhe andar jaane de warna main chillaungi’ you threaten only for him and the other guy to snicker at you.

‘Dekhe bibi aap andar aise nahi jaa sakti’ he says, speaking to you as if you were a child with questionable comprehension skills. 

‘Waise bhi nahi jaa sakti bhai, aapka 4×4 mini truck jaisa badan beech mein jo khada hai’ you spit out

‘Agar aapne mujhe andar jaane se roka toh main yaha Jamali sahab ko bulaungi’

‘Mere mamu hai woh’ you say as a matter-of-fact, even though the statement is a lie. They look at you. Dressed in your most expensive lawn suit, with black spherical frame nestled on your equally round face, you made an extra effort to look dignified and posh considering you were going to confront a member of the Baloch family.

The name Jamali does the trick and the fake freckles guy leads you to the porch where Rehman Dakait is sitting with his wife Ulfat Baloch. They were watching their sons play football while enjoying a cup of chai. You stood in front of them, sweat beading at your forehead. You reminded yourself why you were here and you were not leaving till you got what you wanted. 

You clear your throat and address the man who was now looking at you with curiosity. 

‘Rehman bhai ab aap hi meri kuch madad kar sakte hai. Uzair miyan se koi rabata nahi ho raha.’

Rehman stands up and addresses you ‘Kya baat hai? Batao’

‘Mujhe insaaf chahiye. Hone wale bacchon ke liye’

Rehman and Ulfat blurt in unison ‘Kya?’

‘Ji. Aise iss halat mein akela kaise chod sakte hai woh? Kal main factory gayi toh woh waha nahi the. Aaj unhe cheel chowk pe uss tanker jaise aadmi ke saath dekha. Maine awaaz bhi di toh bhi unhone ne suna hai. Aise kon karta hai bhala?’

Ulfat, the angel that she is, walked towards you ‘Tum pehle baith jao. Pani piyogi?’

You were taken aback by her warm and gentle nature.

‘Shukriya’ you gulp the glass of water handed to you by a househelp. The kids saw the serious exchange and stood near the cars to eavesdrop.

You continue ‘Aapko toh aaj kal ke haalat ka pata hi hai. Iss mehengai mein main akeli kaise yeh zimmedari uthau. Kya unka koi farz nahi banta?’

Rehman looks at Ulfat, who in turn is glaring at him. ‘Baat toh sahi keh rahi ho par humara Uzair itna laaparwah nahi. Pata nahi kya ho gaya?’

‘Unhe zimmedari ka bojh nahi uthana shayad’ you reply

As if on clue, the devil makes an appearance. Dressed in navy blue kurta and jeans, he looked more like a vintage movie star than the feared gangster that Lyari spoke of in hushed tones.

‘Tum yaha kya kar rahi ho?’ he asks, irritation evident in his voice. 

‘Aapse milne aayi thi par aap hai ki mujhe taal rahe hai’

Uzair notices Ulfat looking at him in anger while Rehman has disappointment written all over his face

‘Uzair yeh sab kya hai?’

Uzair lets out a choppy breath, the forced air ruffling hair falling on his forehead.

‘Bhai yeh ladki pagal hai!’

‘Ha ha main hi pagal hu! Aapse kitne baar kaha tha maine ke yeh sab galat hai par aapne meri ek na suni’ you reprimand him, reminding him of all the times you asked him to mind his lane.

‘Aur toh aur jab kaha ke aise kisi ke ghar ki deewar kudke aana acchi baat nahi toh kehte the yeh sab toh fitrat hai, tum apni khidki theek se bandh rakho’

‘Ab dekho kya ho gaya. Ab bacchon ki zimmedari kon uthayega?’

Uzair is perplexed while Rehman and Ulfat are shocked. 

‘Bacche? Kitne hai?’ Ulfat asks in a gentle tone

‘Pata nahi par 2 toh hai hi. 3 ya chaar bho ho sakte hai’ you reply

Rehman was embarrassed while Ulfat was taken aback ‘Kaise?’

‘Aap toh aise bol rahi hai jaise yeh koi anokhi baat hai’ you look at the three of them who are wearing shock, surprise and embarrassment as facial accessories. Behind, you hear the Sumo wrestler whisper something to the tanker, both giggling like school kids

You turn to them ‘Yaha kya comedy circus chal raha hai? Itni hassi kyu aa rahi? Serious baat chal rahi yaha!’

You turn to look at Uzair but Rehman clears his throat ‘Kya chahiye tumhe?’

Finally! Someone asking the real question

‘Muafza aur dekh bhaal. Aur bacche hone pe equal zimmedari’

He immediately replies ‘Theek hai. Par tumhe bhi toh dhyan rakhna chahiye tha’

‘Rehman bhai, main akeli kitna khayal rakhu. Inhe toh parwah hi nahi. “Jo hoga dekha jayega” yeh attitude hai inka’ you huff in annoyance.

‘Isse toh main baad mein dekhta hoon par tum chahti ho toh bacche hone tak yaha ruk sakti ho. Uske baad bhi yaha reh sakti ho.’

You interrupt him, horrified at the suggestion ‘Nahi warna inka billa meri billi ko aur tang karega’

Rehman and Ulfat are confused. It is the tanker who asks ‘Billa? Billi?’

You turn around to look at him. ‘Ha. Yeh dekhiye’ saying so you fetch your beautiful, green eyed indie cat from the wicker basket.

‘Meri pyari Razia Sultan. Kya haalat kar di inke Pele ne’

Rehman turns to Uzair ‘Abbe, yeh Pele kon hai?’

Before Uzair could reply, you fill him in. ‘Are inka woh mota billa. Factory mein rehta hai. Loafer saala chindi aashiq. Fenke hue chicken se meri Raziya ko behla fusla ke maa bana diya.’

‘Naam bhi kitna behuda ashleel hai’ you say under your breath. 

‘Aye ladki woh bohot bade footballer ka naam hai. Tameez se’ Uzair charges at you, as if you had just called him a slur.

‘Par aapka billa toh badtameez hai. Jahil, playboy!’ you throw the unsolicited character certificate at him.

Everybody breaks out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, leaving Uzair and you confused and irritated.

Ulfat finally calms a bit, speaking in between her laughing fit, ‘Are tum fikar mat karo. Tumhari billi… Raziya ki dawai ka kharcha aur bacchon ki dekh rekh Uzair dekhega’

‘Ji pura nahi par aadha hissa. Baki meri Raziya ke liye aadha kharcha main uthaungi’ you say with pride of being a self made woman.

‘Bohot pyari ho tum. Kya naam hai aur kaha rehti ho?’ asks Ulfat.

‘Main Y/n Gillani. Yehi paas mein rehti hoon’

You notice before anyone else how Ulfat’s expression changes from one of amusement to that of sympathy and maybe a bit of pity. ‘Tum Harris Gillani ki beti ho na?’

‘Ji. Mujhe der ho rahi hai, main chalti hoon Baji. Salaam Rehman bhai’

Not wanting to engage in a conversation that could potentially make you uneasy, you decide to bolt from there. 

All this is noticed by Uzair who is now intrigued more than irritated. You had first entered his workspace over two months ago to complain about his stray cat harassing her pet.

Ever since then, he has seen you arguing, fighting, giving it back without any fear or inhibitions. But today, at the mention of your father, he saw vulnerability. The sadness that crept into your eyes, disturbed him as he had always seen them lit with a vivacious spark. Seeing the sudden change in your mood unsettled him, making him wonder whether the teasing and the arguments were a way for him to keep you in his life a bit longer. He looks at your retreating form, determined to solve this mystery.

Next morning you open your door to cat food and neonatal supplies. These would cover at least two months of the pregnancy.

You settle your fur baby in her new comfortable nesting box and coo ‘Meri Raziya. Billa aur Bille ka baap bhale jahil ho par khaandan accha hai’

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ────── ────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

‘Uzair mere saath chaloge?’ Ulfat asks Uzair on a Saturday, dressed up to step out.

‘Kaha bhabhi?’

‘Woh bazaar mein kaam hai aur saath Y/n ko milke bhi aayenge. Aakhir samdhan hai tumhari!’ she laughs. 

His family and friends had made it a point to tease him mercilessly, reminding him of the eventful Sunday evening and the consequences.

‘Bhabhi aap bhi!’ Uzair mutters, the blush painting his cheeks red as he later understood how everyone had assumed it was you two who were the expecting parents.

Ulfat’s eyes softened seeing Uzair blush. ‘Mazzak tha. Bechari itna pyari bacchi aur itna dukh’ she sighed, the words feeling heavy.

‘Uski ammi ka inteqal hue barson beet gaye. 6 mahine pehle abbu bhi chal base. Bhai Islamabad mein hai par koi rabata nahi. Iske abbu ke janaze pe bhi nahi aaya.’

Uzair’s heart broke for you. The realisation of the pain you silently carried, the strong persona you were forced to project at all times made him see you in a different light.

‘Akeli hai bechari. Mrs Faraz ke yaha kaam karti hai. Bohot tareef karti hai woh iske designs ki’

Hearing someone praise you brought in a sense of pride, making him smile. He always wondered how one woman could be so indifferent to others yet turn into a gentle kind soul for the helpless. It is then that he realized what he felt for you was more than admiration. 

Ulfat and Uzair arrive at Mrs Faraz's boutique, surprising you and the other staff members. Ulfat specifically asks for your assistance. You begin showing her around while painfully aware of the six foot two inch guy shamelessly staring at you.

You pick out a black sharara and hand it Ulfat. ‘Baji, yeh aape bohot accha lagega’

Ulfat looks at the material and smiles at you. 

‘Pack kar do. Aur baki ke 4 suit bhi pack kar dena’

‘Zaroor!’ you beam at her, making your way to the billing desk. You pack the stuff and hand it to Ulfat.

‘Yeh lijiye’

Uzair steps forward, taking the bags and brushing your hands in process. You look at him expecting this touch to be an accident. Instead, you see him grinning at you. 

Ulfat sees this and soon bids you goodbye, leaving Uzair to settle the bill. 

He hands you the money and bends down to whisper ‘Tumpe yeh peela rang bohot accha lagta hai. Par laal rang zyada jachega.’

His voice makes your little heart flutter. You turn away quickly, not noticing the way his eyes were mapping your curves. 

Ever since that day he started becoming more and more obvious, not hiding his intentions and definitely not letting you escape him.

He was invariably near your workplace before and after your shift. Your colleagues had now started teasing you, making you cringe hard. It got so bad that you literally felt like hitting them on their heads with a bat to restructure their brain.

By day four you had had enough. You make your way to his jeep to give him an earful.

‘Aapko ladies wear mein dilchaspi abhi hui hai ya yeh shaukh pehle se hi hai’ you ask him, only for the tanker aka Hamza to laugh and disappear into the crowd.

Uzair straightens up and leans towards you. ‘Mujhe kapadon mein nahi par inhein banane wali mein dilchaspi hai’

Was he flirting with you? 

‘Toh main kal Rumana khala ko aapse milwa dungi. Wohi silai karti hai. 70 saal ki hai par jodi theek lagegi’ you reply with no emotion. However, his flirty smile was making your head spin.

‘Tumhare kehne pe toh main goli bhi kha lu meri jaan, yeh khaala ko patana toh bohot choti baat hai’

Flustered, you begin reprimanding him

‘Dekhiye..’

‘Dekh raha hoon’ he says, staring at you, specifically your lips.

You huff ‘Zyada free hone ki zaroorat nahi. Main aapke type ki ladki nahi hu’

He sighs, ‘Pata hai! Isiliye puch raha ke main tumhare type ka kaise banu?’

‘Jahannam jaake. Ajeeb aafat hai!’ You turn back irritated. He honks his car horn making you turn back to look at him. You glare at him to which he puts his hand on his heart, falling back on the car.

Such a drama queen!

He became more obvious, emboldened by the fact that you did nothing to push him away. He made sure to turn up at the tea stall you frequented, never letting you have your favorite chai in peace.

‘Lyari mein aur koi chai ki dukaan nahi ke idhar aa jaate hai baar baar’ you say as soon as he slides next to you, painfully close.

‘Hai par yaha jitni meethi chai kahi nahi’ he says, too close for your comfort.

You shift a bit farther, ‘Itna meetha khayenge toh diabetes ho jayegi’

‘Tum kaho toh aaj se meetha kya sab chod du’

‘Mera peecha chod de’ you reply

‘Are ab toh hamara rishta hai. Ha par mujhe kuch khaas pasand nahi woh. Raziya ki ammi, kaisa rahe agar main Raziya ka abbu ban jau?’

You cough your chai, taken aback by his shameless proposal. ‘Jaisa billa waisa baap. Jahil! Besharam! Behaya!’

‘Kitna pyaara bolti ho. Aur bolo, accha lag raha’

‘Joota naya hai warna fek ke maarti’

‘Apne haathon se maar do, yuhi marr jaunga’

You leave from there, running, making sure that no one sees the crimson tint on your flushed cheeks.

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ────── ────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

Today was rather a somber day where you didn't feel like interacting with anyone. 

Strangely enough, Uzair somehow understood your emotional state just by looking at your face.

‘Aaj please mujhe pareshan mat karna’ you pleaded as you stood in front of him post your shift.

‘Ghar chod du?’

‘Ha’

He drives you to your home quietly. You look out of the window to will the tears away. It was your brother's birthday and you had called him thrice to wish him. However, to no surprise, he did not receive the call, nor did he attempt to call you back. Sometimes you wonder if it was your destiny to be alone. Otherwise, how could you explain why your brother, your only living relative in this world, wouldn't want to keep in touch with you. Why was life so mean to you?

Uzair stops the car outside your small house. ‘Andar aau?’ he asks

‘Theek hai’ you reply as you wanted him to be close to you. His presence made you feel warm and protected. Something you stopped feeling since your father's death. 

You both enter the house to see Pele sleeping next to Raziya. You sigh looking at the two cats. 

‘Chai piyoge?’ you ask Uzair, unable to meet his gaze. 

‘Ha’

You hand him a steaming cup of tea, while you take yours and turn towards the window to wrestle with your feelings in peace. 

His voice pulls you out from your gloomy thoughts. 

‘Mere abbu bohot acche the. Imaandar the. Transportation ka business tha. Ammi bohot pyari thi par usoolon ki pakki thi. Khush the hum. Par phir jo hua woh toh puri Lyari janti hai.’

You turn to look at him as he continues ‘Rehman bhai ne mujhe apnaya aur bhabhi ne apne dil mein jagah di. Naieem aur Faisal bhi bohot pyaar karte hai mujhse. Ammi Abbu ki kami aaj bhi hai par pyaar ki kami nahi’

He walks towards you taking the teacup from your hand and placing it on the side table. He takes your hands in his, forcing you to look at him. 

‘Yeh sab main isiliye keh raha hoon taki tum apne aap ko ijazat do. Agar khudko aur dusron ko mauka nahi dogi toh tumhe tumhare hisse ka pyaar kaise milega?’

The gentleness in his voice and the impact of his words are enough to break you down completely. Before you know, tears start rolling down your face as your carefully built guard comes down. You crumple in his arms, tears straining his jacket. You keep crying and crying, the little girl in you tired and exhausted at being strong. For the first time in months, someone acknowledged your fears, assuring you that you're not alone.

After a while Uzair whispers teasingly ‘Rona bandh karo warna Raziya mujhe nakhun maregi ke “Mere ghar mein ghuske, meri ammi ko rulayega, himmat kaise hui iski”’

Unable to help yourself, you giggle into his chest, ‘Meri Raziya shareef hai’

‘Ha bilkul tumhari tarah’ his voice comes out gruff as you take in the way your body melts against his. You look up at him, his brown eyes turning obsidian with desire.

His eyes move down to your lips. 

‘Can I?’ he asks, only for you to move forward and plant your lips on his. 

And thus began your life with Uzair Baloch. If he was irritating before, he is insufferable now. Despite telling him not to treat you like his girlfriend, the man showed up everyday at your doorstep to drop you to work and returned home with you every evening for ‘Chai’ which would invariably lead to you two making out on the couch. Sundays were spent with him, Naieem and Faisal at the bowling alleys or games zone. They had started calling you Chachi! You pretend to cringe at it but secretly love it too much. 

Tanker aka Hamza addressed you as bhabhi, while his other gang members averted their gazes as soon as you were in their line of sight. 

Uzair as a boyfriend was 100/10. He was calm and patient with you during the initial days of your ‘Relationship.’ You tried to put your worst behavior forward, wanting him to ditch you before things got serious. You indulged in petty things like getting mad at him at every occasion, not answering his calls, leaving messages at seen, making him wait for hours on a chai date, unbothered and nonchalant about it. He was not only composed but had a flirty retort for everything. 

But this facade broke the day you heard there was a shoot involving Uzair and rival gang members. You ran to the hospital expecting the worst. Instead you found him outside the hospital, smoking as if everything was normal. Relieved, you hugged him tight and let your tears flow freely. That day you decided to give up the act and admit to yourself that you were indeed truly, madly in love with Uzair Baloch!

Still, you had your days where you tried to get on his nerves. Like today. Leaning against his car, you saw him carrying the beautiful vibrant red rose bouquet in his hands. Your heart did a merry little dance but you quickly composed yourself. 

‘Mujhe phool nahi pasand. Khaas karke gulaab toh bilkul bhi pasand nahi’

Instead of irritation, his eyes had a knowing glint. ‘Pata hai. Mujhe pasand hai so main le aaya. Ab phoolwale ko toh bol nahi sakta na ke yeh ajeeb shaukh hai mere!’

You couldn't help but laugh at this. He looks at you lovingly, noticing you wearing red kurti and beige palazzo.

‘Maine kaha tha na…Laal tumpe zyada jachta hai’ 

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ────── ────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

Weeks went by and finally Raziya gave birth to 5 kittens.

‘Mubarak ho 5 bacche hue hai’ you wish Uzair  as soon as he enters your home, with Pele in his arms. Naieem and Faisal had also tagged along to see the fur babies. The litter had 2 females and 3 males. You ask Faisal to name them, which in hindsight was a mistake as boys got named after footballers- Zizou, Bex and Ibra. One kitten was named after his favorite dessert Rabdi while the other one got a sane name- Fiza. Wait, wasn't Faisal's classmate named Fiza?

A week went by in a wink. The kittens were growing stronger and louder. Pele had ditched the dusty factory and taken up residence at your home becoming your ‘Ghar Jamai’. The family of 7 lay fast asleep after an uneventful day.

As Uzair lay sprawling on the couch with you in his arms, he started stroking your bare arms, whispering in a low voice, ‘Accha suno. Woh main soch raha tha- Pele bhi idhar rehta hai. Bacche bhi chotte hai. Tumhe bhi roz kaam pe jaana hota hai..’

Clueless to where this was going, you lift your head from his chest and look at him, ‘Toh?’

He continues, albeit nervously, ‘Toh kyu na Raziya aur bacche aur tum mere ghar aa jao’

You start laughing, considering he is kidding.

‘Pagal ho gaye hai kya’ you say in a merry tone but your laughter quickly vanishes when you see him staring at you with dead serious intensity. He isn't joking!

You think about his statement for a few seconds and finally reply, ‘Hmmm soch sakte hai.’

He smiles at your reply.

‘Socho aur jawab haa mein hona chahiye’ saying so he kisses your head as you both fall asleep in each other's arms.

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ────── ────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

Karachi rains were notorious. It would start with a drizzle and a few hours later the entire city would get flooded by gushing rain water.

During one such downpour, Uzair lands up at your door to check on you. With no electricity and very heavy rains, he wanted to whisk you to the lively comfort of theBaloch Haveli where you would be at ease. Why? Because he remembered your statement about being scared of thunder and darkness!

You open the door to a completely drenched Uzair, relieved at having some company in this scary weather. It was good that Faisal and Naieem had fetched the felines this morning to look after them over the weekend. Poor babies would have been scared here. You drag Uzair inside and fetch a towel to dry his hair. But he has a different plan as he pulls you on his lap, kissing you senseless.

You break the kiss- hot, bothered and gasping for air. 

‘Aap mera fayda uthana chahte hai?’

His hands grip your waist tighter, pulling you closer, your body plastered against his.

‘Nahi! Main toh keh raha hu tum mera fayda uthao’ he breathes in your face to carry on worshiping you with his hands, body and lips.

Ever since then, Uzair and you became borderline shameless. He would turn up at home during wee hours, knocking at your door in the afternoon on your days off, taking you out for long drives that had very little to do with the driving part of it. Hell, he even dropped Pele Raziya and their litter at Hamza's one day as you insisted that ‘Bacchon ke hote hue koi ashleel harkatein nahi hogi’

But as all good things ran their course, your happy bliss with Uzair was now at the dead end. It seemed so to you atleast. You started throwing up, turning repulsive to food and fragrance, tired and irritated all the time. You even lashed out on poor Zizou l, making him curl at your feet for forgiveness. The sight of the kitten staring at you with sorry eyes made you cry like a baby. Your fur babies were too kind so they behaved well for a day at least. Even Pele didn't bother you.

In the meantime, you stopped answering Uzair's calls, turning blind eye to his messages and ceased going to work for a few days. You made a quick trip to the doctor to confirm your doubt. 

As you made your way back home, you saw Uzair sitting at your doorstep, looking angry and restless. But the moment he saw your slumped tired form, his protective instincts took over. You opened the door, slumping on the couch with him following you.

‘Kya baat hai Y/n. Na mera phone utha rahi ho, na mere messages ka jawab diya aur na kaam pe bhi nahi jaa rahi ho. Ghar ka darwaza bhi nahi khol rahi thi mere liye. Hua kya hai?’

The gentleness in his voice got to you and you burst out crying. He sits beside you, lifting you from the couch to place you in his lap. His hands start soothing your back as you ugly cry into the crook of his neck. After a while your tears slow down, as you realise you needed to come clean now.

‘Maine kuch kaha? Kuch kiya maine? Bolo naa’

You try speaking in between sobs, ‘Uzair, main…aap… main’

‘Kya hua jaan?’

Unable to speak, you fetch the medical file and hand it to him, expecting him to get mad at you.

‘Sach?’ he asks, his voice laced with wonder. You just nod in affirmation. 

‘Toh ismein rone wali kya baat hai?’

‘Mujhe laga aap gussa honge. Darr lag raha tha kahi aapne isse…’ you start crying again.

‘Meri jaan rona bandh karo pehle. Please.’

‘Main bohot khush hoon. Maine toh bhai bhabhi se humare Nikkah ki baat bhi kar li hai. Woh iss itwar aane wale the. Khair ab hum itwar ko Walima rakhenge. Agar tum chaho toh’

You look up at him to see him happy and hopeful about the future. Nikkah? Walima? Your head started spinning 

‘Uzair’

He beats you to it by asking you a very important question.

‘Nikkah karogi mujhse, Raziya aur mere hone wale bacche ki Ammi?’

Overwhelmed at the series events that transpired in last 1 hour, the emotional roller coaster and the cuteness of his proposal, your wacky hormones make you kiss him before you say ‘Haa’

‘I love you meri jaan’

‘I don't hate you Uzair’

He laughs at this, the joy in his voice and the spark in his eyes warming your heart

‘I love you Uzair’ you whisper, finally saying the words out loud.

‘Finally!’ he says with a mock sigh.

You laugh as you settle in his arms. 

You quip at him ‘Billa meri beti pata le gaya aur Baap mujhe’

────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ────── ────── ❀•°❀°•❀ ──────

Bonus

Rehman and Ulfat are staring at you two while Naieem and Faisal are busy dragging the kittens and their belongings.

Ulfat finally addresses you ‘Yeh sab kya hai Y/n? Aur iss baar Muafza aur dekh bhaal chahiye ya Uzair se kaam chala logi?’

Embarrassed at her teasing tone, you plead her to stop.

‘Bhabhi please’

Rehman puts his hand around Ulfat.

‘Rehne do Ulfat. Bas Allah se dua karo ke humare yaha ek saath 5 bacche na aaye. Ek ek karke aaye, chalega’

You are too embarrassed to speak while Uzair looks smug at the suggestion.

Oh how he looked like a cat that got the desired cream!

PS- using @mainyahaankyunhoon ka taglist as I didn't know who to tag. Dotn't worry about me bothering you all with unnecessary tags in future as I might not post a Fic again

We didn't need a sociologist to tell us that, we already knew we had issues woman (another w for self aware kweens 👑)

Isn't it an innately human response to desire what we cannot seek ?

I don't understand how this can be classified as a hallucination. Simping on fictional characters has been a pattern for centuries and even more so for villainous characters, it's nothing out of the ordinary.

Maybe the scale at which it has occurred and for the first time seen a desi evil character receive so much praise and adulation by Indian women has these people losing their marbles.

The Indian society who is infamous for suppressing the desire of women has the galls to judge who we can or cannot like even on a fictional front is certainly telling of their intentions if not for the sociological concern behind it.

💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽💅🏽

Some of this is true.

Part of Rehman's appeal lies in the fact that he was ridiculously hot purely in the way how he existed and treated people around him.

Rehman was a good dad, a biwipaglu caring husband, an affectionate brother and a benevolent leader (until he fuckd up ofc).

ALSO GURLLL IT ISN'T THAT DEEP, HE WAS HAWT AS HELL AND MAYBE WE JUST WANTED (we do) TO FUCK HIM STUPID. AS SIMPLE AS THAT.

LOOK AT HIM AND TELL ME U DON'T WANNA RIDE THAT DAKAITI D.

Are you saying Rehman doesn't have an elite literary taste ??? That would be the worst assumption to make.