𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Chapter 1

Zehra's Point Of View (POV)

I was lost in my own little world when someone abruptly shattered it by splashing cold water on my face. I jolted upright in my bed and shot an annoyed glare at the person responsible for ruining my dreamland. And of course, it had to be none other than my older, irritating brother, Hassan bhai. [Brother].

"What's your problem? Why did you drench me with water, and that too, freezing cold?!" I exclaimed, irritated.

"As-salamu alaykum, my little lovely churail. It was mama's order to splash water on you because you wouldn't wake up. But let me tell you, your face was absolutely priceless," he said, trying to hold back his laughter but failing, which earned him a fierce glare from me. [Peace be upon you.] [Witch.]

"Quit staring and get up to get ready for your interview, if you even plan on going," he said as he got up from my bed.

"Oh shoot, I completely forgot about that," I said, realizing my oversight, and hurried to the bathroom to freshen up and get dressed.

I'm eighteen-years-old and just graduated from high school. A few months later, I earned my bachelor's degree. Now, I'm on the hunt for a part-time job at a hospital or clinic to gain some experience before applying to medical school. Plus, I want to start earning my own money. Not that my dad, Ahmed Khan, doesn't have a successful job, but it's time for me to be independent.

After fifteen minutes, dressed in black baggy jeans, a cream-colored shirt, and a black hijab, I sat with my parents at the dining table. Surprisingly, my brother was nowhere to be seen, and I was grateful for that. At least I could enjoy my breakfast in peace.

"As-salamu alaykum everyone," my brother's voice chimed in as he sat down next to me. Everyone replied with a warm "Wa-alaykumu s-salam." [And unto you peace.]

I guess I was a little too eager to say something. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, but that's just not who I am.

Mentally groaning, I reached for a piece of bread that was right in front of me, only for my brother to snatch it away. I shot him a glare, but he only grinned in response. Rolling my eyes, I started my breakfast.

My brother is two years older than me, which means he's twenty-years-old, but he never really acts his age, except when he's in the kitchen. Let me tell you, he's an incredible chef. I've never admitted it to him, and I probably never will, but my brother creates the most mouthwatering dishes. His future wife is going to be so lucky, especially because of his cooking skills.

My family is the epitome of beauty and kindness. Both my mother and brother have jet-black hair, while my dad and I have lighter brown locks.

I used to think I took after my mother, but as I've grown up, I've come to realize that my features resemble my dad's more. However, I did inherit my hazel eyes from my grandmother, on my dad's side. They're a stunning blend of green and brown, although sometimes people mistake them for plain brown. It's a minor annoyance, but it's one of those things that make me unique.

My mother possesses the most captivating smile I've ever laid eyes on. Her dimples illuminate her face and have the power to uplift anyone's spirits. Oh, how I wish I could have those beautiful dimples too.

Sure, my brother can be a bit bothersome at times, but he's also incredibly caring and always there for me. The same goes for my dad. I'm immensely grateful to have such an extraordinary family, and I know that no matter what life throws our way, we'll always be there for each other.

"Beta, what time is your interview?" Baba asked as we were enjoying our meal. [Kid.]

"It's at ten a.m.," I replied casually, thinking I still had plenty of time until the interview. But then, my mom chimed in, "Well, you better hurry and catch the bus because it's already twenty minutes to ten, Pari. You're running late." I widened my eyes in realization, quickly finished my orange juice, and rushed to the front door to leave.

Ever since I was born, my mother has given me the nickname 'Pari' which means fairy. She rarely calls me by my real name, except when she's angry. Most people, except my brother, refer to me as Pari. He argues that if I were truly a fairy, I should be able to fly, and since I can't, he refuses to call me that. You see how he is? Sometimes it's hard to tell if he's being serious or just teasing.

As I hurried towards the front door, I accidentally bumped into someone. "Watch where you're going, girl," my brother scolded, and I looked up, mouth agape. "How did you get here so quickly? Just two minutes ago, you were at the dining table. Anyway, I don't have time to chat. I'm running late. Move," I said, slightly annoyed. He rolled his eyes and retorted, "Why did you even ask if you don't care? Oh, and by the way, you forgot your phone on the table."

I quickly snatched my phone from his grasp and hurriedly made my way out of the house, his voice echoing behind me, "Watch your step and be careful not to bump into anyone, you clumsy girl!" Ignoring his words, I dashed off to catch the bus, determined not to let his teasing dampen my spirits.

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{As-salamu alaykum and hello everyone 👋

Hope y'all are doing well.

So here's the first chapter!!

And please tell me your opinions for this and the next chapters, of course.

Have a great day/night ♡ ♡

Until next time. As-salamu alaykum and bye bye dear readers 🫶🏻🫶🏻}