Laila

Ismail

Alarm bells started going on inside her head. This wasn't Hassan, of that she was sure. But then who was this male intruder in this completely strange house?

Oh God.

Laila whipped around to find a face to match the hauntingly deep voice.

Then forgot to breath.

Instead of the vile looking, burly man Laila had pictured the deep voice to accompany-the only image that seemed appropriate enough to fit a man who Laila had already deemed dangerous in the shadiest part of Lahore- she came face to face with a man that was too handsome for Laila to feel comfortable in the presence of. A man who was too handsome for the shy, self-conscious Laila to comprehend.

She kept looking at the handsome stranger, trying to make sense of the situation. Burglars didn't look like this guy. But that's who he was, right? A thief who had come into Hassan's house to rob it and now would kidnap Laila and do God knows what to her. But he sure didn't fit the description in his crisp, white shalwaar kameez, his polished, peshwari chapal and his recently washed, combed, wet hair. He was close enough that Laila could smell the musky, clean scent coming of off his lean body.

But, no matter how handsome he was, no matter how nice he smelled, he was a stranger. And Laila was well aware of stranger-danger. Even if the stranger in question was the epitome of Lailas definition of imperfect handsomeness.

After the shock of seeing this beautiful man dulled, the fear of being in the presence of a stranger, in an unknown place settled into her every pore.

She was too uncomfortable all of a sudden to take in his gorgeous features but the overall image of what she saw of him was that of a ruggedly handsome, Pakistani man. He was too handsome for Laila to feel comfortable in his unwanted, uncalled for presence and all the previous moments angst that she had felt turned into her signature anxiety.

Not noticing her obvious discomfort or noticing and completely ignoring it, the handsome stranger looked pointedly at Lailas feet with a mixture of borderline exasperation and amusement on his strong, structured face. She looked down at her feet, but noticed nothing amiss. She looked back at him with wide eyes and a questioning look on her face.

Why the two of them weren't speaking was beyond her, but the situation itself was beyond anything she had ever found herself embroiled in. She was in a practically strangers house, in a definitely strange part of Lahore with a strange, handsome man making weird faces towards her feet. What a day she was having.

He let out a heavy sigh and with raised eyebrows repeated his opening statement, "You shouldn't be standing out there. That thing could collapse any second under your weight."

What? What thing? Laila thought and looked around her for the first time since Amina and Hassan had exited the room. What she saw scared the crap out of her. She was standing on the notorious balcony! Had she been so lost in thought that her pacing had led her to this death trap without her realizing?

She let out a high pitched yelp when it dawned on her that she had a hazard below her feet and darted away from the balcony, into Hassan's little living room.

Once inside the safety of the tiny room Laila began to register the acute, heavy silence that enveloped the room and its two inhabitants. She looked at the guy, who was already looking at her. Their eyes met. A clash of dark and light brown. Embarrassed at being caught, her instinct was too hastily look away, but she couldn't. His eyes were the most captivating, beautiful, light brown that she'd ever seen this closely. The two of them were close enough that she could see the specks of gold concealed in the light brown orbs. They were so enticing and Laila couldn't look away despite every nerve in her body shouting at her to do so. Things were getting more and more awkward by the second by Laila had very obviously lost her mind. She was enraptured. She was fully captivated.

But alas, the spell was broken when the stranger decided to speak again. And the second he did. Lailas anxiety hit her with its full force.

"Um, I'm not trying to be rude but, who are you? And what are you doing in my house?" he said in that goddamn voice of his that was making Lailas knees a bit weak.

What was happening to her? She was never this affected by men who were as handsome as this guy was. She was more into guys who were the opposite of ridiculously gorgeous. Maybe it was because she felt as if they were on the same level as she was. So why was this guy affecting her so much? Maybe it was because this was the first time she was in such close proximity with aforementioned guy. 

Alone.