HER

1

At the young age of eleven Laila had turned into a bright little girl with heart melting smile and knees shaking eyes. She would smile even at strangers passing by. Her family was surprised to see such a sunshine of girl seeing how her father always seemed so gloomy.

Her father may look like he was always angry but he was a good father. Jabbar was a best man to his family. He had loved them, provided for them even if in need to provide all that luxury he had to live away from them.

Laila's father was a good father, even if she felt that he loved her little brother more now.

To others Laila did not seem to mind anything, but only she knew what thoughts crossed her now grooming mind.

It was the day of her fifth grade result. Laila was not an intelligent girl, so she had to study hard to get a good rank in class. Her family's approval mattered to her so she had prayed all day to Allah for first rank.

Laila needed to be perfect little child to be in spotlight and her grades were the main thing that made her one. She always came fourth in her class but she needed to be on first place.

The time of result came and for the first time in her life she came on second rank in her class. She had gone home hurriedly, a grin adoring her baby face, the front two broken teeth on display.

On the way to her home her uncle had commented that she looked just like her grandma and her grin had widened, proud that she looked just like her grandma.

She entered home screaming about her grades. Her mother had smiled at her, her sister was happy for her but made fun of her and teased her. Her little brother gave her a candy as a gift.

Her father was happy for her too but-

"I want my daughter to be in First place." Her grin faltered hearing those words. She had worked hard to get even that place and those words broke a piece of her heart and it hurt.

Again Laila didn't felt enough.

"It's okay Laila. Baba is just kidding." Dur-e-Fishan, her sister had muttered in her ear. A comforting hand on her shoulder.

But Asian parents never kid in such matters.

Yet Laila grinned at her sister."I know. " Chocolate in her hand she ran to her room.

That night guests came to her house. Her father's business friend had come to their house. Aromas of delicious dishes had filled her nose. She was content, overjoyed running around her house. She was laughing too much, smiled too brightly, she always had. She always smiled a little more then normal. She always laughed a little more then normal. No one noticed.

Except one person.

"You smile too much." She looked to her side to see a fourteen years old boy sitting beside her. Laila remembered his face from the guests downstairs. After meeting them with a too big smile she had came upstairs, too bored to listen elders talking.

A certain boy had noticed and followed her after sometime.

"You are one of guests."

"No shit sherlock."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing."

Both had gone silent after that. Laila started drawing again and the boy just looked outside through the terrace.

"Why are you here?" Laila muttered, eyes still fixated on her drawing notebook.

"What?" The boy had understood what she was asking.

"You should be downstairs, with other guests." She explained, her lips pouting as she concentrated at the task on hand.

"I could say the same for you."

"I am not needed downstairs." The boy had remained silent for a few moments after that.

"Adult talks are boring, so I came up."

"Hmm."

"You talk a little mature for your age." The boy looked at her face, like looking for something on that face.

"And you talk too much."

"You smiled too much down there." He raised his brows at her. A smirk may have formed on his face but he was good at hiding his emotions.

Just like Laila.

She shrugged at him. A glance at him and a click of her toungue. "I don't need your approval. "

That was the only night at that time when Laila had not smiled or grinned at anyone for approval.

And that thought made Laila smile. A real, genuine and small smile.