His Love | ✓

chapter 1

She was standing at the balcony, lost in her own world as the wind breezed past her. Dressed in light pink frock that reached just above her ankles with churidar pajama ,dark brown eyes gazing at the full moon with no care in the world. Pink soft lips crept up in a small smile as she inhaled the slight fragrance of motia hanging in the air, a small nose piercing sparkling on her small button nose. A perfect jaw line, long slender neck that was decorated with a thin gold chain rested upon her high collar bones, clad in a black shawl, long dark brown hair in a messy bun rested on her shoulders. Small pointed breasts hidden in the shawl,a small waist and perfect hips with long beautiful legs covered in the frock. wearing a pair of flat slippers. A jingling sound errupting now and then from the payal on her ankles and the tassels of the daman of her frock, an aura of innocence surrounded her. Her gandumi skin full of noor in the dark with the little light provided by the moon .

'Noorie' 

'Noor api'

she was pulled out of her thoughts by her little brother Azaan. who was her life and vice versa.

'jee bolo' she asked politely.

(yes, what?)

‘I am calling you since eternity, anyways, come downstairs as everyone is asking for you.’

'okay, let's go' she said adjusting her dark burgundy shawl.

'wese sab se murad?' she asked, closing the balcony doors.

(what do you mean by "everyone").

'sab se murad jese -' he started counting on his fingers. 'daadi, baray baba, bari ammi, Rafiq taya, Arfa ammi, Arman Bhai-' she stilled at her place, a sudden sense of pure hatred and anger boiled into her.'-Ammar Bhai, Haris Bhai or sari aapiyan'. Azaan continued.

(by everyone I mean [all the names which were taken] and all the aapies). 

'Noorie, what happened?' 

Azaan who had walked forward but turned when he did not feel any movement behind him asked.

'Noorie' he called a little louder this time.

Noor who was busy cursing Armaan deep inside her heart was again pulled out of her thoughts by Azaan 

'huh, nothing. Let's go.’ she said quickly, before Azaan could get anymore concerned.

She walked down the long old staircase that stood proud even after being centuries old, that was maintained and architectured elegantly, so that it can give the Haveli a more precise look. it gave access to all the three floors, with slightly rounded banister with antique designs.

As she stepped down the last step, she could hear the voices coming from the lounge. Her heartbeat increased as she rounded the corner and came face to face with everyone sitting in the lounge. Azaan was long seated on the corner, continuing playing with his ball.

Everyone went silent and looked at her, a little nervously but loud enough for everyone to hear she said her salam.

'Assalam-o-alaikum' 

everyone replied to her salam and then carried on with what they were talking or doing. she took a sigh of relief as she hated being the center of attention. She looked around the hall and saw every elder engrossed in a heated discussion. Her gaze travelled from them to Hira and Ammar who were busy in arguing about something like kids and not caring that they were both above twenty, but she was not a bit interested in their banter.

Then her eyes landed on Armeen and Hareem who were looking busy discussing about something in magazine Armeen was holding. she smiled as she made her way to them but than her eyes landed on Haris who was busy talking to Armaan who she loathed the most,  sitting on the sofa in front of her.

Arman who was siting discussing business with Haris looked up when he felt someone burning holes in his head. and met with her dark brown eyes which were only throwing glares filled hatred towards him, he shook his head in amusement and averted his eyes back to Haris who was showing something in his laptop. 

Noor, when met the dark black pair of eyes which can destroy anything with the intensity they held, could not help but send looks of hatred towards him, when she knew he saw her looks and he replied with a head shake she went and sat near Hareem and Armeen satisfied, for what she did and not an ounce of regret because in her eyes he deserved it.

'Noor ab tum hi batao'

(Noor, you tell us) 

'huh?’ she averted her eyes from him and looked at Ammar and Hira who already were looking at her. 

'Shah Jahan built Taj Mahal in 173-' Ammar was cut off by Hira who quickly asked.

'no! Shah jahan built it in 1635. right?'

Wow! what a question, she thought. She was busy remembering the correct date as she was very bad at history, As she was about to speak, Arman beat her to it.

'You both are incorrect, it was built in 1631, now shut up'.

As they were sulking at his words, baray Abbu cleared his throat, everyone went silent as he did it to gain everyone's attention, then he continued

'last month a proposal came for Hareem-'. Hareem stiffened. 'so yesterday we invited them and accepted their proposal as they are our very good family friends and we know the groom already, we have kept the date for Nikkah on this Friday and the rukhsati will be at the end of the coming month. So start preparing. any question regarding it?' he asked looking at us, we shook our heads, not in fear but in respect. 

we all cousins looked at Hareem with a sad smile who was on the verge to cry but controlling herself, she smiled at us. I knew that smile so well and the vibes she would be getting, because some years back, I also went through this. i was also sitting over there crying deep in my heart on my fate. i absent mindedly looked at Him who was sitting over there with a blank expression as ever. And that moment i again realised that he knew about this and it was being done with his consent and agreement. because he was the only one to take final decisions. every elder asked for his advise and agreement on anything and everything.  As he was..

Arman Mustafa Malick, the head of the house, as he was the boss of the business world. A mafia lord of the underworld. he liked control over everything and everyone. and i was the first one on his 'to be controlled' list. And he never missed the chance to make me remember who I am and to whom i belong.

and everytime he made me remember, the hatred for him of mine increased ten times more.