and then I saw him.
dbf!sp aslam chaudhary x reader.
с╢Ь╩░с╡Гс╡Цс╡Чс╡Й╩│ ┬╣
you had always seen him through the partings in the doors, aversive to anything that was connected to lyari's grim underworld.
it was just the surveillance of a young girl who had learned to live in defense, stray in the shadows, act with purity despite the high functioning mind that you possessed that made you surpass normal maturity and emotional intelligence.
that wasn't too say you had learned how to make your emotions behave.
you were back home after so many years. you didn't let much knowing of your whereabouts get around, not even to your family.
just some assurances of your guaranteed safety which they held no place to doubt, but nevertheless pondered upon because family is family.
aslam was your father's close confidant for a long time. you never greeted anyone you didn't wish to have a deep relation with, so it was safe to say aslam had only learned about you in passing, consistently but not seeking it out. aslam wasn't one for such pleasantries, even with those close to him.
there was once where he had sent flowers. you were in the hospital, broke your foot while trying to clean the house despite being sick. he never saw you, after all you were not very fond of visitors and you made sure to make it apparent.
nobody knew how you were made aware of your sister's marriage discussions, but you seemed to know. showing up at the house, the morning of, when they were leaving. you didn't want to keep them back on their schedule so you brushed over the greetings and pushed all of them in the car with a stern nod.
this was the power you held. no one got any time to register it, they just knew to listen. not from fear but from respect, the need to show which emanated by your heavy presence.
the 'boy' was a dud. you knew the moment you saw his demeanor, from the glimpse of his exterior cracking under your lightest of pressures, if there even was any.
his parents felt need to step in, who were you? this was a conversation for adults, but you didn't need to justify yourself as your father got up with a blanket statement of the necessity of your opinion in your sisters marriage, after all, you were not just an object in your family, you held an equal say in the matter. politely removing the family from the house, his arm draped around you and your sisters back, somewhere inside his heart, he was proud of you two.
"they were so icky, I mean ew, who does all that?"
your sister said as she acted out a gag, earning her a stern look from your father.
"humans."
you spewed out of habit, you questioned very essence of the word humanity when you noticed humans and the world they built.
"ugh, phir se aap shuru hogayi? aapko insaano se koi allergy hai kya?"
you embraced her firmly as you shifted beside her, assuring her of how priceless she was to you.
"aapse nahi hai."
you father seemed deep in thought as mostly did when he had to discipline you at times, he did not like it very much so he was glad that it wasn't needed as much with the two of you.
"bus. becha, aapka bin bataye ghar aana kitne hi mohabbat se kyu na ho, aapko phir bhi humein bata ke rakhna chahiye tha."
"yes abbu."
his words were valid, you just didn't want to disturb their routine. you should've thought more into it. you reminded yourself as your face rendered itself apologetic.
a true rarity.
you had walked the streets back to home on your own, sending the rest of them back in the cars, no questions were asked, just a request from your mother that you be there for lunch time.
you traipaised around the bazaar in search of your favourite foods, which were too few and your favourite accesrories that were few too many.
you thought about how brave your mother was to let you roam around on your own accord despite the many elusive hazards she held in her mind.
maybe someway into life she had learned that keeping a pet at home no matter the amount of love bestowed upon it, it would try desperately to run out in the wild even when knowing the terrible fates that awaited it outside.
all you could do is let it experience the world and learn to protect itself. and exposure was important for that.
she could be dense at times but she still counted herself better than her mother when it came to such things.
a faint scent passed you by, lingering a little too long for your attentions not to sway. where had you the pleasure to encounter such a musky scent before? as the thoughts rambled in your mind, your feet took you forward to the place your heart couldn't stay away from.
a bandi of fresh mogra. you could already see your mother's scowl, the questions that stopped long ago. but warnings that still seeped in at times.
warnings about how you should stray from being decorated. a strange choice of words but the concern underneath was real, the men here took anything like that as an opportunity, or rather an excuse to justify the disgusting actions that they dared to take against the women.
you still bought a few, some for your mother and sister too, they could were it when you were around, you would protect them. they deserved to enjoy it too, to be free from the fear that lived in their hearts.
they would hesitate at first but you bet they wouldn't be able to have the heart to take it off. you bought one for your father's hand, you knew he loved the scent that it emanated while he walked around reading in his study.
some new maids were astonished to see you carrying the loads of bags in your hands, you could spend very well for your pleasure and the well being of your family.
you had already seen everything that seemed scarce in the kitchen, every recipe of yours that seemed to be running out from it's stock.
you heard whispers as you made yourself sparse from their surroundings, making yourself at home in the kitchen before you paced back to your room to finish some precursors as your mind considered them.
you switched on your radio, changing into less sweaty clothes, something akin to a a white cotton pathani. mogra already making itself a space in your hair. you laughed away the sweet feeling that carresed your heart about seeing your reflection adorned with flowers.
work starts now.
you paced around the corridors, airing out the space, giving more sunlight to the varanda when you heard the stupidly loving and welcoming words of your father.
your sharp gaze cutting through the chatter around your vision to get a look at the person that invited such a warm welcome to themselves. a friend? a...aslam? the taskforce guy?
you doubted your ability to remember him even though you knew your doubts held no meaning. it seemed like he sensed your attentions on him as he flickered his eyes to meet yours. you couldn't help but look away especially when a similar musky scent asaaulted your senses. your music in the background did not help.
he seemed vicious, like a predator.
too heavenly to look away from.
one of the ways you recounted how some plants trapped insects. drawing them with it's allure and bleeding them dry the second they came in range.
maybe you'd enjoy it.
maybe just a little bit.
