[zakhm pe marham? tere naina.
phoolom pe shabnam? tere naina.
jag bhoole bhoole? tere naina.
dil jhoole jhoole? tere naina.]

I walked to his room and he followed me there only to get a grip of my wrist and try to unscrew or dislocate it.

I screamed and hit the door with my other hand after hitting him.

"Khaao Atif Aslam ki kasam abbhi kamra waisa kar ke do gi jaisa maine chhorra tha."

I twisted my neck to look behind me, into his eyes, "Tumhaari kasam abbhi itni zor se maaroon gi naa tumhain itni ghalat jagaah pe ke kabbhi zindagi mein aankh uttha ke nahin dekho ge mujhe,"

He let go of my hand very calmly.

Itni asaani se ddarr gayaa?

I watched his furrowed brows above those brown eyes that matched with the furniture of Anza's room, "What do you use on your hair?"

"Huh?"

"Haan huh nahin, sawaal poochha hai, jawaab do."

"Kyun mashwaraa chaahiye? Baal jharr rahe hain? Meri itni badduaaein khaao ge toh yeh toh ho ga." I shrugged.

His long eyelashes detached from his brows when his eyes went down towards the mess, and unable to bear it anymore, he started picking his clothing items up by himself. His mood appeared to look much better for some reason.

I sat down on the sidetable and watched him, thinking of doing something to annoy him, when my eyes went to my blanket.

"Yeh yahaan kyaa kar rahaa hai?" I asked and he followed my eyes.

"Araam kar rahaa hai. Kehta hai tumhaare kamre mein harr waqt shor hota hai, wahaan dil nahin lagta iss ka."

"Hahahahahaha, comedy show chal rahaa hai yahaan toh. Free mein hai yaa iss ke paise lein ge aap?"

"Nahin, yeh free ka hi hai. Social service."

"Shukar, kyun ke chillar nahin hai mere paas."

The dumbass didn't get the reference.

I rolled my eyes and yawned, getting bored. "Aur bataao, aur kis kis cheez se tang hote ho tum?"

"Dafaa ho yahaan se," he said with the charger he just picked from the floor in his hands.

I looked up at him, "Tameez se,"

He pushed the charger into the socket by my side.

"Coffee banaa do ge?" I asked and I was expecting a sarcastic reply but he nodded instead, and I worried, kaheen expired boxes hi naa istamaal kar de.

"I was just going to make one for myself," he said, walking to his desk.

"Oh, haan, haina? You need one too. Kyun ke yeh toh lamba chalne waala hai."

"Kyaa lamba chalne waala hai?"

"Tum abbhi sab saaf karo ge, main phir kharaab karoon gi," I said and saw him pause and get stiff, "tum phir saaf karo ge, main phir kharaab karoon gi."

"Tum haath lagaa ke dikhaao. Zindagi mein kabbhi doobaara kuchh aisa kiya toh iss khirki se hoodie nahin, tum lattak rahi ho gi."

My eyes instinctively blinked a bit more than the normal, "Yeh tareeqa hai kisi larki se baat karne ka?"

"Yeh manners hain uss so called larki mein?"

"Tumhain saat din koyi lagaataar tang karta rahe ga karta rahe ga toh tum kyaa karo ge?"

"Coffee," he put it aside on his desk and made one for himself.

I walked to the desk and warmed my hands with the mug.

"Hamza," I heard Alina knock on the door.

He looked at me before telling her to come in.

She opened the door and looked for him, "Why's your room so..." she saw me and gave him and impressed frown, "itni pyaari larki kab pattaayi?"

Was Alina complimenting me or insulting me? Why was she here, by the way? What is becoming of her? She needs to stay away from him.

"Tum yahaan kyaa kar rahi ho? Iss se door rahaa karo tum—"

"Oho! Possessive bhi ho rahi hai itni jaldi—"

"Alina tang nahin karo mujhe—"

"Hamza jeeju ki feelings pe toh mujhe pehle hi shaq tha, tum bhi—"

"Alina," he spoke sternly once and she apparently suddenly listens to him more than me.

"Achha nahin karti naye love birds ko tang, lekin—"

"—Zaira!" Haroon appeared in the room, "Neeche drama chal rahaa hai, aur aisa waisa drama nahin, Netflix ke level ka drama. Sahil bhai ki shaadi ki baat chal rahi hai aur woh bhi Muneeba aapa ki beti ke saath,"

I gasped, "Kyun? Kyaa matlab, kaise? Noor kidhar hai?" I got up,

"Waheen hai, chup hai, pataa nahin, dekh lo," he replied and Alina rushed down with him.

I pushed the mug from the corner of the desk but before I left Mr. Coffeemaker held my hand.

"Yeh sab karne ke baad tum maze lene jaa rahi ho?" He asked pointing towards the mess with his eyes.

I shrugged, "Mera kambal chori kar ke tum maze le ke so sakte ho?"

I took my cup of coffee with me to put some sugar in it on the way.

The drama had already ended by the time I got there but the weirdness of going back there instantly had me stay.

I didn't like the look he had in his honey brown eyes when he stopped me there.

He looked a bit bechaara.

But he deserved that.

And a lot more.

I thought of all that I could do.

I don't know him enough to know what that irritating man hates.

I called Anza in the afternoon but I couldn't get any information out without getting her suspicious.

I walked upstairs to Janaab Waada-e-Faramosh's room, taking small sips of my coffee. I heard him laughing on the phone, but he ended the call right after I opened the door.

I watched the floor, "how did you—?" I ran to check his wardrobe and he took the cup out of my hands maybe afraid that I'd spill the coffee on the clothes, "how did you do that so fast?"

Janaab Waada-e-Faramosh proudly shrugged and walked towards the desk to put the cup on its place. He closed the door while he was at it. His hand reached up to the latch but he thought it twice and let it be.

I acted as if I didn't see anything.

"Mahi ve, tere dilaan diyaan gallaan
Mainu luk luk dein hawaawan"

Ya khudaaya, I love the idea.

Beyoncé ka taana de rahe the? I have a way better voice, akhrott.

"Mahi vee, tere dilaan diyaan gallaan
Mainu luk luk dein hawaawan

Jaadoon baadal garjey saanh ruk jaande
Akhaan tainu wekhan hunjoon muk jaande"

He took a seat on his desk and rested his face on his hand to watch me.

"Kadi aa mahiya ve saadey wairhey
Muk jaane ne ve saarey vichhorey

Hm, oo...

Soona jagg ve saara mainu bulavey
Kade meri vi ooo naa qadar naa pavey

Kadi aa mahiya ve saadey wairhey
Muk jaane ne ve saarey vichhorey

Mahi ve, tere dilaan diyaan gallaan
Mainu luk luk dein hawaawan

Mahi ve, tere dilaan diyaan gallaan
Mainu luk luk dein hawaavan

Aaa...

Soona jagg ve saara mainu bulavey
Kade meri vi ooo naa qadar naa pavey

Kadi aa mahiya ve saadey wairhey
Muk jaane ne ve saarey vichhorey

Soona jagg ve saara mainu bulaavey
Kade meri vi oo naa qadar naa paave

Aaaaa..."

He clapped for me.

Is he stupid? He's supposed to grow annoyed.

What the heck?

I went all besuri on aadat, he acted surprised, "wow man, you're improving."

I looked around for something. I wanted him to end up like Please Zaira, please forgive me, I'll never ever trouble you again.

Before my eyes found anything, Allah miyaan sent support.

Mehwish pushed the door open and scowled at me, "Yeh kyaa ho rahaa hai? Kyaa shor kar rahi ho tum? Hamza, yeh kyaa hai?" she hyperventilated.

"Tumhain hi call karne waali thi main. Ham— woh, woh keh rahaa hai uss ne tumhaare saath kuchh baatein karni theen," I gestured to him.

She looked at him confused, still a bit jealous of me being there in his room all alone with him.

"Mujh se tips maang rahaa tha, thora nervous tha, maine kahaa mujh se kyaa tips le rahe ho, Mehwish mujh se zyaada samajhdaar hai, uss se seedha seedha keh do joh kehna hai—"

"—Zaira!" he growled, "She's lying, Mehwish—"

"—Dekha, abbhi bhi kaise sharmaa rahaa hai?"

A blush appeared on Mehwish's cheeks and I kind of felt bad for her, but she already knows how he plays with girls yet she still likes him. Not my mistake.

And if I hadn't put her off this way, she would have gone and complained to phuppo and phuppo would take thousands of meanings out of us being alone in a room with the door closed.

Especially considering what type of a man he is.

He gave me a wait and watch what I do now look and I went to my room and decided to rest my head on the opposite end of my bed. I set alarms for every hour. I had not forgotten the promise of not letting him go to sleep.

Mehwish better waste his whole night.

I kept on stretching up to see him every hour and the lights stayed on till 2AM.

Right after I switched off the alarm, I heard Mehwish leaving his room.

Haaye Allah, I was having such a good sleep.

I got up and went to his room before he closed the door.

He saw me and looked at the door all confused.

"The fuck are you two doing? Taking turns?"

He was slurping Maggi. I'm sure Mehwish made him some.

I was dying for more sleep but I diverted my attention and it went on his laptop. I watched the designs on them.

"Ya khudaaya that is soo—"

"Gorgeous, isn't it?"

— H A M Z A —

She looks at me, "Yea," her eyes go all round and glossy and her lips form a frown, "I want one."

In the middle of the night, in such dim light, she looks cute.

The big bouquet-looking-curls on her head look really pretty.

She admires the bridal lehenga and uses the spinning button of the software to twirl it and watch it from all angles.

"Did you make it?" She asks all emotional after noticing my proud smirk.

I nod, "Obviously,"

She takes a breath in, "It's so pretty, I wanna get married right now. It hasn't been launched yet, has it? You made it now, right? I want it before anyone. I can't— no, I'll tell taaya abbu I want it. I need to find a guy right now, I need— Ahmad better marry me."

Ouch. "Ahmad who?"

"Anza—" her brows fall down. "You didn't make it, liar." She reads the name in the sign at the corner, "And that makes it even lovelier," she claps her hands more amused than before and I smack her head, "ah,"

"More noises like these and they'll kick us out of the house,"

She watches me for a while, her slow-paced brain trying to understand what I just said, and when she gets it she hits my bicep, "Bekhuda aadmi, oopar se jhhootte."

"I did make the software, you didn't clearly ask about the dress so..."

"Oh, did you— I never knew what you studied. And where you live, and what you do, and—"

"What do you want all that biography for? Wanna send a proposal or something?"

She thought she could trick me into showing that she's hitting my arm and then slapping me with the other hand but she forgot it was me who taught that trick to her.

She laughs when I catch her hand, "You always..." her laugh slightly subsides but not sadly, she's still making a happy conclusion in her head.

"Isn't it lovely how some people leave but little parts of them stay?" I ask and she shoots her head up as her jaw parts.

I watch her fill her lungs with the breath she just lost. I mimic her excitement and steal her thought, "I was just about to say that! Word by word!"

She looks at me surprised and opens her mouth, "A—"

"Are you serious?"

I bite my lip to stop the laughter that wants to burst out but before I can catch any other word she wants to say, her eyes change color.

Legitimately. They go to a darker shade of blue as she lowers her gaze to a side.

"No no no no no, not in my room," I pause her, "Please. I'm not going to sit the night and console you, it's a gone time, it has finished, bla bla bla, and there's no need to be emotional about it."

A slight anger burns in her eye and with a barely visible movement of the teeth, she walks to the desk and sits over the table instead of the chair.

The disgusting girl sees my cup of coffee, takes it and spills a bit of it over the desk and the chair, then puts the cup above the spilt coffee and rubs it around to spread it.

I run to the psychopath and I'm about to throw her out of my room but the fragrance that comes once you're two steps into her radius, makes me forget about the spilt coffee.

I watch her mischievous eyes waiting for my reaction over her actions and for a second I can swear that I've seen no girl as beautiful as her.

Her crazy vibrant eyes go beyond what they're usually described with. They are much more than just that beautiful color.

Beckoning, sultry, welcoming but frightened...

It's not easy to find the perfect adjective when she's always rolling them around, scared that if they pause, someone will read them. And if someone reads them, the secret to this bouncy sparkling dynamism will be uncovered.

It looks adorable on her. The fear she's struggling with right now, it's really appealing.

It makes her evasive eyes look timidly calm.

A calm that looks beautiful on her.

Why do her eyes make me want to believe in love, in the fantasy of having someone for yourself for your whole life,—

don't I already believe in all that?

I guess I never did.

Not so consciously, not so firmly.

She makes me want to believe in so much more. My definition of love was never real love. It was just desire, and sharing your whole life with the person you crave.

She makes me want to believe in halting awake in the middle of the night just to comfort the one you love by sitting them on your lap as they cry over the horrible nightmare they just had.

Why is there a sudden urge to protect her from all the nightmares? Not just that, a strong desire in my heart rises to protect her from all and everything. From small innocent incidents to the big thorns life throws at one once in a while.

She looks so delicate right now. I hold her hands, how is she going to handle life alone?

"I'm not, no I, not what you think—want," her voice shakes,

"Ssshh," I try to slow the loud thumping of her heart, "I know, I know,"

I watch her daunted eyes and nod,

"I know you're not," I push her curls back with my hands and her eyes go down, breaking the eyelock.

I capture them again by ducking my head down just enough to catch her attention.

I lead them up and wonder if they are that easy to play with for anyone?

I watch the shades change. The blue sucks a sky color.

I'd snicker at it but any sound would help her easily shift those orbs.

And all I want is her eyes on me.

Because they are beautiful.

"Khair," she steals her eyes and pushes me away. She quickly turns around and takes a tissue to clean the desk and chair.

Or maybe to feign busyness as she tries to get a hold of the moment.

She looks at the time, 2:45AM. "Are you going to go to sleep?"

I mean, I could do all that. All that consoling her, handling her mood swings, giving her a shoulder to cry on, etc. Only to be able to look in those eyes, feel the texture of her soft silky hair and sleep in her fragrance... Couldn't I?

I spring a curl of hers and she looks at me all annoyed, "Tum sone waale ho ke gym jaane waale ho abbhi hi bataa do,"

"Kyun? Tum aur waqt guzaarna chaahti ho mere saath?"

"Main kabhi waqt guzaarti nahin hoon," it's the first time that eye roll looks good on her.

I look at the time again, "Iss waqt gym kaun karta hai?"

"Ahmad,"

My heart shifts a bit, getting uncomfortable, "Ahmad who?"

She looks at me from the corner of her eye.

She unlocks a really old memory I didn't even remember I had. A villain from an indian serial Nida and Maya used to love.

I was about to laugh but the coffee dripping down the edge of the desk puzzles all my thoughts.

"Quick," I gesture her to clean it faster, "that's an unbearable sight."

She looks at me and laughs before giving a villainous sudden break to the laugh, "khud saaf karo, naukraani nahin lagi hui main," she stretches the dirty tissue to me and I calmly push her hand back to the desk for her to drop the tissue there.

I take a bunch of tissues and soak the whole thing,

"You could never come to my room, it's so, so so messy." she walks to my bed.

"That's why Ahmad won't marry you—"

"Khudanaakhaasta," she quickly cuts me in an accusing tone,

I roll my eyes, "what do you use on your body that makes it smell so good?"

"Huh? That's a very backhanded compliment,"

"No, it's a simple and clear question," I kind of regret the words I chose, if I went for a kinder set of words, she might have answered politely.

She's really easy, shouldn't be allowed in the outer world, anyone can take advantage of her.

"It's a very personal question then,"

I throw all the tissues in the dustbin and go wash my hands.

Ahmad who?

When's the next cousins gathering? Because I got really good questions for the truth or dare.

When I go back she's sleeping on my bed.

Does she always sleep so wildly?

Taking the whole bed for herself?

But she looks cute. Only when her mouth's closed and isn't drooling.

I cringe at that image in my head and divert my attention.

The whole room smells like her and I can notice it even more now after coming from the washroom.

What is this sweet bubbly scent with a drop of sourness that isn't exactly sour? It's like the gushiest part of a mango. The fragrance is so rich, I know what it would taste like.

I walk to my bed and silently put my knee on it to bend down and get a whiff of her hair.

It's not her hair. Her hair smells great and compliments that fragrance quite literally like a raspberry on top, but I think it's the body lotion. Or the body gel. Or whatever she uses on her skin.

As I get up, I notice her sleepy eyelids unlatch, "Tum sone toh nahin lage?"

I quickly shake my head, as if caught acting upon an ill-planned mischief.

"Naa sona," she turns her face to the other side.

I take the opportunity to go to her room.

Since when do I sneak into people's rooms?

And bathrooms.

I look for every product and cosmetic and get a whiff of them all but it's not any of those.

And she doesn't use any of them apart of the lotion maybe.

It's such a unique smell, I can't describe it in any way or find it anywhere else. I haven't, at least, bumped into it ever before.

But everytime she comes closer I behave like a child in front of a candy shop. That's exactly the level of attraction. Irresistible.

It messes with my head. What can this smell be? It needs to be coming out of something. Some chemical, some expensive perfume, something.

It's so soothing, I want to keep going back to it.

"Zaira?" I ask right after I enter the paradise.

She has fallen really deep in her sleep and she's a nuisance when awake.

I sit on the chair and I hate her for the way she has ruined my sleeping schedule.

I'm about to fall asleep on my seat when I realise I've not changed yet.

It's already morning.

She won't wake up unless an earthquake comes about. I change right there as quick as possible to relish the few hours of sleep I'm going to get.

[tere nainon ke aage
toh taare bhi sharmaaein
lala lala lala lala lala lala lala laa,
tere naina, tere naina...]