No Conditions, Whatsoever

Cognac Brown Eyes

Author's PoV:

The first time she saw him, it was inside her father's study room. Five year old Feiha had only wanted to give medicines to her Baba, which he had forgotten, when she witnessed a peculiar scene. A boy was seated in her Baba's lap, his face red probably from crying. He was sobbing, as tears kept forming inside his eyes. Her Baba, an Islamic scholar, was trying to calm him down by rubbing his back.

In front of him, there were two more kids. A boy and a girl. "He's so silly," the girl giggled and recieved a light slap on her hand by the boy beside.

"Be quiet, Ashu," he whispered and pretended to be immersed in his book.

"There there, the stick isn't even strong enough to have hurt you, boy," Feiha's Baba consoled and patted his head. He then noticed his daughter standing at the doorstep with medicines in her hand. "Yes, flower?" He gestured to her to come forward and took the item from her hands.

Feiha kept standing there even when she was done, staring at the boy who was a mess now. "You're such a crybaby," she scrunched her nose in disgust.

"You're mean!" The boy retorted. His friends tried to suppress their laughter but failed.

"Don't fight," the adult in the room spoke as he saw the kids becoming volatile, "Feiha, go back to your room and do your homework. And you, Ayan, compose yourself and go back to your seat. Let's start today's lesson."

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The second time was more than a decade later, at a bus stop near her house. She had just returned from a visit to her gynecologist. Her face was gloomy and her hair a mess. Her head felt like it would burst, making her shut her eyes for a second. That is when suddenly she felt something hitting her head and soon she realised that she had bumped into someone.

Rubbing the spot, she turned to the person to make a quick apology, only to meet a pair of cognac brown eyes. "Are you okay?" He asked with concern.

The question was her undoing. Throughout the bus ride she had tried to keep herself from breaking down but a simple question from a mere stranger was all it took for her to shatter. Tears gushed down her cheeks and she struggled to maintain herself, hiding her face out of embarrassment. She was losing her mind in the middle of the road, that too in front of a man whom she didn't even know, making a complete fool of herself.

"I'm.. I'm sorry," she somehow managed to let out.

Panic ran through his veins as he tried to register what was happening. He opened his mouth to ask her but before he could do so, he saw her turning away and in the next moment she was gone, leaving him confused and bewildered, alone with numerous questions inside his head.

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The third time happened at a wedding. She had been invited to a party thrown by one of the richest members of her neighbourhood, The Rahmans. Apparently, the second son of the family was to get married today and the nikah was to be officiated by her Baba, who as always, was late.

She was standing near one of the food stalls when she felt someone's gaze upon her. She tried to ignore it but decided to see the source once she felt it was getting too powerful and annoying. As she searched, her orbs found a familiar pair. Cognac brown eyes that were set intently on her, eyeing her with curiosity, raising her heartbeat and causing heat seeping to her cheeks. He was the same guy she had bumped into some years ago, she realised, the one who had seen her cry out of nowhere. She was surprised at her memory, given that it was unusual of her to remember people whom she didn't know.

He was dressed in a slate grey tuxedo, his hair curly from the wind. His face was well sculpted; sharp nose, small but deep eyes, and a full mouth.

"He's cute," commented Hania. Feiha turned to her, flustered at being caught by her little sister. "And he has been staring at you ever since we arrived."

Feiha's eyes widened but she soon straightened up, trying to look unfazed. "Maybe he's a pervert," she shrugged.

"He's the youngest of the Rahman brothers. Nobody in that family is a pervert," Hania assured, earning a curious look.

"How are you so sure?" Feiha couldn't help but ask.

"The entire neighbourhood knows how well mannered these boys are, it's no secret."

Feiha found herself looking at him again, only this time his focus was not on her. He was talking to some woman. She was dressed in a pretty blue gown and she was a hijabi. There was also a man beside him, their heights and facial features somewhat similar.

Feiha saw him walk away from them towards the food stall and for a second she thought that he was going to approach her. Thankfully, he didn't. He had only wanted to get himself a plate of kebabs. Her gaze followed him as he took the plate and handed it over to the woman in blue dress. She noticed how she laughed when he said something to her, understanding that they must be close.

Suddenly uninterested, she looked away. "I'm hungry," she mumbled to Hania.

"Let's go eat some kebabs," she suggested but Feiha refused.

"No, not kebabs," she searched around making sure not to let her eyes stagger anywhere unwanted. "There, go get a glass of soda."

Hania shook her head, "I don't want to have soda."

"I never said it was for you. Go get me one," she ordered. Hania frowned but obliged, knowing very well that Feiha would start lecturing her about respecting elders and stuff if she argued.

Feiha felt his gaze fall on her again but this time she didn't bother to pay attention. She put her face completely out of his view by turning her back at him. It wasn't like she had any chance with him or any man. Her life was different, her situation difficult. There was no use in wanting to have what she couldn't and she understood that very well.

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