When everything else was falling apart, Shehryar gave Laila the job as his assistant. Now here they are months later in a very symbiotic and platonic relationship until Shehryar's past comes face to face and he swears to destroy everything from his...
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❝Dekh ke mujhe kyu tum dekhte nahi Yaara aisi berukhi sahi toh nahi Raat din jise maanga tha duaon mein Dekho gaur se main wohi toh nahi❞
The moment he set foot in that room, his breathing had become uneven, his heart threatening to erupt within the cage of his ribs. This woman was surreal. His mouth became dry as his feet took him towards her like a magnetic pull. He was so close to her, so close he could count her breaths with the brush of his lips. A slight movement of his head and his lips would touch her red lips.
"Laila," He breathed against the sensitive skin of her jaw. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her perfume. Floral. So her, but it wasn't enough to keep him afloat.
Those colored eyes reeled back into his mind, snapping open. They stared at him, mixed with betrayal, love that once lasted, accusations and memories. Red hair fell over her forehead into her bloodshot eyes. The wounds tore open, burning as they bled on his touch on Laila's skin. That one flash of past incinerated everything inside him. While she stood there with a glass of champagne in her hand, a mocking smile on face.
Snatching his hands away from her body, Shehryar took a hasty step back as if he got electrocuted. Laila opened her eyes, looking at him, her eyebrows furrowed. The eyes that were soft like honey soothing over the burns of his heart. They sparkled like the most scintillating star, whispering radiance into the darkness of the night sky.
The ones in his mind were reckless reflecting his own at the time. The red in her eyes held warning, a warning that they both were only going to destroy each other.
"Sh—"
"Amma-Amma called us downstairs." Looking over her shoulder into the blurred window, he avoided her gaze. "Guests are here." He struggled to blink away the haze. Sweatbead formed over his forehead, threatening to run over him like a slosh of hotwater.
"Shehryar!"
The distant memories overwhelmed each cell in his body, covering him in pain. He had opened the door that day, his calloused hands burned against the handle. Only if he knew that burn was a thousand times better than the burn her abandonment would cause her. Wajdan's cries hadn't echoed through the house. Haunting silence coiled around him as he ran from the door to the only bedroom they had. The departure of one woman wrecked his entire world.
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The women from all around the neighborhood circled her. One after another came to see the infamous bahu of Ali household, but her eyes restlessly wandered from one corner to another. He moved in and out of the house, avoiding her gaze when she caught it for a few seconds. Between Inaaya and her, no one noticed the bloodshot eyes and the stiff posture he carried. Laila still couldn't grasp the change she had witnessed. Even in the hustle of the Aqeeqah party, there was an eerie silence in his eyes carrying the ghosts of his past.
