Damsel In Distress (COMPLETED✓)

CHAPTER: 37 | CHANGE OF HEARTS (PART-1)

"Who's this?" She questioned, her eyes glistening with interest as she checked him out without being even subtle about it.

Omar chuckled, "Oh! Him?" He placed a hand behind Zeeshan and pushed him forward, "Meet my buddy from Dehradun, Zeeshan." He introduced.

Handal smiled at him, "Handal." She outstretched her hand for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you." He forced a smile at her and faced Omar, ignoring her hand all together.

Handal awkwardly retrieved her hand, "Um," She giggled to cover up her embarrassment, "Likewise." She collapsed her hand together, looking back and forth at Omar and him."Oh and this is my sister," She moved to reveal a girl, "Laiba." She gestured towards her.

Zeeshan and Omar looked at Laiba who was seated on a chair, a book opened in front of her on the table next to a half full coffee mug.

"Hello," Omar said while Zeeshan only watched her as she stiffened at the mention of her name.

She didn't even look up from the book she was reading.

Ingnoring Omar, she hurriedly packed her book and other stuffs into her backpack and stood up, "I'm going home." She informed Handal in a quiet voice, spun on her heels and walked away without even waiting for her sister's response.

"Wooaaahh! Feisty much, huh?" Omar commented.

"Don't mind her." Handal made a face, "She's a loser."

"Your sister is hotter than you though." He cooed and winked.

"Stepsister." Handal corrected him, hatred evident in her tone.

While they both chatted, Zeeshan was stuck somewhere else.

Standing there, he couldn't help but watch Laiba as she made her way out of the café, his eyes following her until she disappeared behind the glass door.

And that was the first time he ever looked at a girl for that long.

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PRESENTLY:

Zeeshan stared at his reflection in the mirror and almost didn't recognise himself. His shabby hair were messily falling over his forehead, his jaws were covered with unshaven dark and thick beard, his left eye was bruised and there was a strip on his nose. Shaking his head at himself, he leaned over the large classic ceramic wash basin area, he peeled that thin white strip off his nose and discarded it into the trash bin. He turned the faucet open and cupped his hands as he bent over the sink and splashed cold water over his face. He repeated the process until he was satisfied before standing up straight.

And as he rose, he was met with the reflection of an another person in the mirror.

"We need to talk!"

Aariz said as their eyes met, leaning sideways against the door frame of the washroom, his arms folded over his chest and his legs crossed at his ankles.

They both stared at each other in silence, the sound of water running in the sink reverberating in the background.

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A maid pushed opened the wooden doors of a large aesthetic looking room and stepped aside, letting Laiba and Areesha walk inside.

"Thank you so much. You can go now." Areesha dismissed the maid and faced Laiba, "This is yours and Aariz's room for the next two weeks now. I'll ask someone to bring your bags up here." She appraised, gesturing the room.