Izzat An-Nisa (Pakistani Short Stories)

Naz Part 1 🌹

Rukhma looked up the board, wincing as her eyes scanned the listed formulas. She was horribly failing this class. And that made her want to die. Simply put, Rukhma was doing exceptionally well in all other classes and needed to pass her physics requirement course to be done with her final year. After that, she was all set with as a Food Scientist in the company she had interned at. Life was falling into place, but there were still two major problems.

Physics and the constant proposals driving Rukhma insane.

She bit her lip, debating whether or not to raise her hand and ask the stupid questions that came to mind, but when Professor Khan fixed his charcoal gaze on hers, she faltered. She clutched the teal dupatta in her hand and pretended to note something on her paper.

Sure enough, when she looked back, he had gone back to teaching, the low rumble of his voice that enticed the entire college's female population ringing through the room. And she was trying dastardly hard to listen.

Finally, she got the concept down somewhat, and promised herself that she was never going to even say physics out loud once this was over.

Professor Khan gave out a few more problems and then loosened his grey tie. He had already pushed up his sleeves so that his forearms were on display, his hair disheveled. It was the hottest day of the year yet even then he looked like the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

Hayeee. Itne rishtay aate hain koi ek in jaisa handsome ho tho fouran han kardo.

As if sensing her gaze, Professor Khan looked up again. "Ms. Waheed. If you'd be so kind as to focus on the problems I've given you, then you'd score a bit higher on the next exam."

She tore her gaze away, biting the inside of her cheek.

Bilkul bhi handsome nahi. Budda. Kharoos. Jahil aadmi.

Khan's temper had earned him quite the reputation on campus. However, he was particularly kind to those who came to him for help. Rukhma couldn't, she had far too much to do than physics.

He gave her one last disdainful look and the sat down in his chair, typing away into his laptop.

When the class was dismissed, she anxiously rushed to the door, but alas, she was stopped.

"Ms. Waheed, stay back." His cold tone made her halt in her spot as she turned, pulling up the lawn dupatta that kept slipping down.

"Gee?" She answered, playing with the strap of her bag.

He stood up, and she directed her gaze into the center of his chest; the white dress shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. "Your last paper was an abomination. You drew pictures instead of answering the questions. How old are you, Ms. Waheed? 8?"

His tone was harsh, angry.

Rukhma looked up, feeling constricted with the heat as well as the intense disappointment in his gaze. His jaw was taut, his dark eyes menacing.

"And what's even more insulting, is that you're making A's in all other courses. Your professors enjoy your discussions and questions. I don't hear a peep from you in here."

Tears stung her eyes as she cursed herself for being an easy crier. "I'm sorry. I'm just really bad at physics."

His phone rang and he shot her a look that told her that they weren't finished yet.

"Khan." He answered, turning his back to her. She looked around the room, trying to make it less obvious she was listening in.

"I've already told you. It's a great opportunity, but I'm going to finish the term before I think about it."