Previously on Borders...
I hugged him, wailing loudly, as he embraced me back. He buried his head in my neck, as I felt his tears on my shoulder.
"I was afraid of losing you, Zain," I said as I pulled away.
"Why were you? I was here all the time," He smiled, making the day brighter than ever.
He raised his hands to cup my cheeks, "I am sorry, for whatever I have done to you,"
I looked down as he spoke those words.
"Look at me, Harpreet," He gently whispered.
"I would do whatever it takes to heal your wounds, like how you healed mine," He said, leaning in to touch my lips with his. I didn't realise what the moment was offering me, but all I felt was the numbness one feels when you're satisfied and complete.
......
A/N- Guru Granth Sahib- The Holy book of Sikhs.
I stared at him for what felt like hours. He smiled, the slight curves at the ends of his lips, deepening. I looked down, suddenly feeling an emotion, unbeknownst to me then.
"What are you cooking today?" I asked.
"Well, I was clueless, so I decided to cut some vegetables," Zain shrugged.
"I can help you," I suggested.
"If you insist," Zain chuckled, and I joined in. It was the first time that we'd shared a moment of happiness and laughter.
"Okay, so how can I be of your help?" Zain asked.
"Well, I'll chop the vegetables this time, and you can..." I trailed off looking at his cut finger, which was wrapped with the cloth that I'd provided, "-you can just check if I'm doing something wrong," I said, giggling.
"Then it's going to be a very difficult task, indeed," Zain said, wrapping his arms.
.......
As I returned from the kitchen, after washing my dishes, I found Zain standing near the dining table, holding a photograph in his hand.
"I found something inside your Guru Granth Sahib," Zain said, smiling. My mind clicked as I realised that he was referring to the photograph that Father'd gifted me, of Zain and I.
"I never knew you had this with you," Zain said as we looked at the photograph for a few moments.
"Come with me, Harpreet," He said deeply, holding my hand, gently.
We walked up to the stairs together, and we stopped right in front of the wooden shelf in his room. A flash of worry appeared on my face, not knowing what he had planned for me.
He opened the door of the shelf, and I looked at it with embarrassment, since I had rummaged through its contents, disorganizing it completely.
He sighed, eyeing the view in front of him, taking a box labelled 1917-1927.
1917 was the year that he was born. He handed the box to me.
"What is in it?" I asked, the anxiousness in me was at its peak.
"See for yourself,"
I opened the lid of the box, which was filled with photographs. Photographs of us. Tears began to flow from my eyes as I saw our younger selves, looking at each other, smiling. And finally, I saw the same picture which I'd brought from Amritsar. The very same picture that Father'd gifted me.
Zain retrieved the picture in his hand and held it beside the one which I was holding, having the same image.
"We share the same story, Harpreet," He softly said.
"We're like two boats which started together and drifted apart in the middle of the journey," He added.
"The borders have vanished, Zain, it has brought us closer," I smiled through the tears, resting my head on his shoulder.
.......
"We're going to D'Souza's place," Zain said as we sipped on our tea, in the evening. I looked at him in awe, at the mention of the word 'we'.
"Why so?" I asked.
"Well, so that you can meet Jeanette and tell her that you can attend the event at her place," He said. My heart bubbled with joy as I wrapped my hands and smiled. "Do you really mean it?"
"Yes, now you may get dressed," Zain said.
.......
Zain rang the door bell, and a faint noise of a bell could be heard. I observed the vines that were hung on the walls of the house. It looked so absurd, yet beautiful. The door opened and I saw Jeanette with wide eyes, glancing at us, remembering to hide her shock with an obligatory smile.
"Please do come in, Mr. and Mrs. Malik," She said, leading us into their well-kept house.
Just as we entered, Mr. D'Souza came in to the living room, having the same amount of shock as his wife did.
"Sir? How may I help you?" D'Souza asked with a humble smile.
"Thomas," Zain smiled referring to his first name, "I have come here just to visit you and your family," Zain said.
"Speaking of which, where are your children? I haven't got the opportunity to meet them yet," Zain chuckled.
"Well, they've gone to school, Mr. Malik," D'Souza said.
"On a Sunday?" Zain asked.
"They've gone to attend their Sunday school," Said Thomas.
"Oh very well, then," Zain smiled.
"Uh- would you like to have a cup of tea?" Jeanette intervened.
"Well, I have just come here for a lighthearted conversation, so I'd like to decline, thank you," Zain said.
"Um, do you mind if I have Harpreet for a moment? Thomas, please lead him to the lobby," Instructed Jeanette as she pulled me to the kitchen as they were out of sight.
"What happened to your husband? He's not the same person!" She whispered.
"He has changed a lot, Jeanette, and my assumptions for his transformation are vague at the moment," I shrugged, grinning.
"I am really happy for you, Harpreet," She rested her palm on my shoulder.
"Well, I came here to tell you that I can attend your event," I excitedly spoke, holding her hands.
"You can?" She exclaimed.
"Yes, I will be the only girl from a village,"
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that, they're really nice,"
_______
I just can't with the Zarpreet feels. So in order to curb my craze, I went ahead and made another Zarpreet edit which will be on the multimedia section! The title means, "Embrace me, because we may never know if we'll get this beautiful night again," It is a classic Bollywood song, and I have used the acoustic version of it.
And a minor side note- The part where Zain is supposedly holding the wallet has 'Nabeela's' picture. AKA Sonam. :')
So this edit is based on the part where Nabeela had come in between Zarpreet's relationship, AKA the chapter which I had posted a few days back!
I hope you guys like it! Did it make you cry or at least sad? Let me know in the comments.
Make sure to read AshaMalik-Padukone 's works.
Till then
xoxo
sweetdreams199
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Borders || Zayn Malik AU #MissionDesi
Fanfiction1940. A year when the Indian soil was tensed and was a point of violence. Swords were drawn, guns were fired and knives were stabbed, in the name of the creation of two countries, with quite different ideologies. British Raj's policies, created a la...
