Meet-Cute

10. khayr

k h a y r
AHAMMED

chapter ten — ❛ here's your chai ❜
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KHAYR NEEDED A CLEANSE—perhaps from the sorcery that the world had in store for him. He wasn't sure what stopped him from undoing the tight knot of his tie but knowing the impression he'd leave to his workers was enough for him to suppress the groan ticking the bottom of his throat.

For the past few days, his mind had been jumbled—the once peaceful thoughts were slowly becoming filled with her. The constant buzzing in his veins, the ticks of his jaw as he caught himself thinking of her, wanting to see her even though he had her in the room next to his.

The urge to find her in every sweet perfume's scent and every flower's smell that he passed by his office's corridors were becoming the bane of his existence. Seeing her in everything, everywhere he laid his sight on, except beside him, cursed him.

Khayr wasn't sure if these were simple idle tricks his brain decided to create to play with his feelings, or he seriously needed to see a psychiatrist.

It wasn't too long before he recognised that laugh. The same breathy one filled with embarrassment. Only to be used when she wanted to remain polite.

Khayr watches her, gawks as he observes her manicured hands thread through her hair, swiping her shorter strands in the front only to watch them settle back in their initial form; dimples present as she nodded feebly at her companion.

Mehr's beauty was never up for discussion—how could he dispute the truth when he battles with the thought every day.

Upon further inspection, he recognised her guest to be her cousin. Zaynab stood confidently in front of her desk, motioning her speech with her expressive hands as her cousin nodded through.

Khayr could only raise a brow in curiosity. It was unusual for Mehr to have someone beside her best friend, even her mother requested to visit but she denied her request.

He contemplates whether to stick around or to leave and give them their privacy but the documents at hand were weighing him down. Khan could easily barge in, no knocking needed and give her her files and leave them, but seeing her conversing amicably made him halt.

"It was a shock for all of us," Zaynab utters, setting the complimentary water on the desk. "I didn't expect you to go after him."

Mehr's brow twitches, wanting to be raised in confusion but chose to remain collected, "I didn't go after him, we simply clicked and now we're dating. Isn't that how it works?"

"But you two barely interacted?" She smiles sourly. The urge Mehr had to grit her teeth showed through the fake veil of expression she put up.

"Then I'm sure you've heard about how opposites attracts?" She pinches the bridge of her nose. Khayr, being his amused self, huffs out a chuckle crossing his arms over his chest as he tilts his lips upwards feigning a smile.

"But he isn't your type or even close to it?"

Mehr stacks the plain papers into a neat pile, slamming them against the smooth surface of her desk. Kahyr observes how she kept her head downturned only for her to blow her loose strands of hair out of her eyes in a puff of frustration.

It didn't take too long for her to plaster another fake grin, eyes disappearing into half crescents—a close match to the real deal. "And you know my type? I don't recall sharing you that detail with you before."

In these five minutes, Khayr has learned about his so-called 'partner' more than he anticipated. Mehr being the type to pick and choose her cold demeanour fascinated him—the ice melted as quickly as it solidified. Whether their arrangement ended, he remained curious about her.

"I would assume your type to be someone. . . cheerful?"

"Cheerful?" Mehr laughs—a genuine one. "You clearly don't know me at all."

Zaynab masks the incoming sneer, innocently fluttering her lashes instead, "Well, it's not like you plan on marrying him, so let me know when you break it off. Okay?"

"Who said I'm not? I'm dating him for a reason." Mehr dismisses her by turning her back to her, shadowing her expression from Khayr—who was too busy being stunned by her words.

"Got it, so you want him for yourself then."

Mehr raises her eyebrows, Khayr doing the same, "He isn't a possession, I can't claim him. You can try to if you're so desperate."

He knew another snarky comment would be making its way out of her cousin's mouth but before she could, Khayr gently knocks on the door, revealing his presence. Mehr and Zaynab pause in their tracks, blinking simultaneously.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" He cocks his head to one side, pretending to have just come.

"Not at—"

Zaynap interrupts her midway, causing Mehr to narrow her eyes, annoyance displayed across her sharp features. "Not at all! Come in, I was just about to ask where your office was."

Khayr maintains eye contact with Mehr, tuning the third party out as he was too busy gawking at the set of eyes that reminds him of everything he laid his sight on. He found her in every place, corner—in everything. It should be concerning yet he ignores it just like the other multiple signals from his heart.

"I just came to drop these off." He explains, situating the files on top of her stacked documents.

Mehr gulps, nodding a she couldn't muster up a coherent sentence out of her mouth. He glances towards Zaynab, curtly nodding at her before trailing his stare back. "Be ready by five."

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