Izzat An-Nisa (Pakistani Short Stories)

Rehbar Part 1 🌺

Riyaz was many things. Artist, resident at one of the best medical centers in the country, and son of rich businessman Khalil Alam. Flirt, cocky, arrogant. Handsome, jaw dropping, mouth watering. He turned heads when he rounded in the hospital, even the female attendings had hit on him a couple of times.

But he was always attracted to the wrong type of woman and left to just flirty conversations and a few dates here and there, his attraction falling short when he realized there wasn't anything holding him to the girl.

Muslim, he didn't cross his limits. But marriage wasn't on his mind. His mother had been begging him to take things seriously, leave medicine and join the family business, get married and settle down. But he just couldn't let his lifestyle go. Low stress, his intelligence helping him breeze through medical school and residency, private, his apartment home to his messy yet organized living system as well as his paintings.

Today, a lazy grin sat on his curved lips, his hair curling around his ears, a little on the longer side but messily styled. His coat covered his scrubs as he walked into a different cafe after his shift at the hospital.

He sauntered in line, noticing the blonde who sent him a flashing smile standing in front of him. She was good looking, but the last blonde he had talked to had left him on read after he claimed he didn't want to go out with her.

She had gotten boring pretty quickly, whining about her trust fund and shopping habits. And Riyaz's brain sped on double tracks and couldn't keep up with the one way lane she had showed him.

He played around with his phone until he reached the counter, not realizing it was his turn.

"Are you going to order or am I supposed to telepathically know what you want?" A slight raspy but very much so feminine voice greeted him and her words caught him off guard. He put on his signature heart wrenching smile and looked up, ready to woo her into writing her own number onto the sides of his cup by the time he was done ordering. A total asshole move but it was tried and true.

But when he laid his eyes on her, the almond shaped deep brown eyes, thick but perfectly arched brows giving him an amused look, and pretty pink heart shaped lips took the words right out of his mouth. Her glossy brown hair was pulled into a braid slung over shoulder, reaching her waist, leaning against the counter with a hand over her hip.

How the hell did she make even the apron look good?

She raised a brow. "You good?"

He blinked, stuttering out his order and then watching in fascination as she lowered her eyes, typing it into her computer and completing the transaction. She placed his card in front of him so that she wouldn't have to touch his hand and then asked for his name.

"Um Riyaz." He said. And then she took those sultry eyes off of him again and he was reminded to move to the side and wait for his drink. He set up his laptop, deciding to write his notes before heading home and also so that he could sneak some more looks of the girl working at the counter. Her name card read Namal and she was utter ruination.

Her arms and legs were covered, her chest covered, no enticing skin on view. But she walked like she owned the place, a calmness to her only fortified by her confidence.

He smirked to himself. He had to get to know her. Taking out a small sheet of paper, he wrote in neat legible handwriting.

Can I have your number? Yes. Or yes.

Then, when the other barista called his name, he went over and grabbed his drink, and then ever so carefully, handed Namal the note. She raised her brow at him, but accepted it and he walked back to his table.