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When her father dies and he's the one to tell her that.
Aaina followed him quietly, not asking any questions as he closed the door. She waited and waited, but Zaydaan didn't say much. Finally, she burst out.
"You know you're scaring me, what happened?!"
He took her hand in his, then made her sit on the small chair.
"Sit." He muttered, his right hand reached out to touch her neck, as he rubbed it up and down.
It was a gesture meant to comfort her, she knew.
"Tell me." She demanded, or pleaded. He couldn't differentiate.
He let out a sigh.
She was finally happy. She was finally so fucking happy. She shouldn't even feel sad about it, he was a pathetic man but she knew that it would affect her, she would feel lost.
He was her father. No matter what.
He knew that there was no beating around the Bush, no preparing her for it. So he simply said it out loud.
"It's your father, Aaina. Someone shot him in Malaysia." He could feel the sudden tension in the air, the gulp of in throat, the sudden frown, the pale cheeks.
She shivered against him, not even knowing how to react at all. What to say? Is he okay? Tell me he's not dead? Where is he?
"What? Oh My God. Is he okay?" Aaina questioned, managing to push the bile down her throat as she expectantly looked at her husband, waiting for an answer.
Zaydaan looked down for a moment before he knew that he had to give her a direct answer. There was no other way.
"The injuries were very critical, he couldn't survive." He said it out loud.
"Your father's dead, Aaina." He repeated himself.
All he could feel was the cold sweat on his wife's face and how she put her head against his chest, not saying anything at all.
@SamaaNewsOfficial : First Lady's father dies in Malaysia. Funeral to be held today in Prime Minister House, Islamabad.
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When he holds her in his arms and tells her he's her family.
There was no better feeling than being in his arms, being held against him as you thought about all that had happened. There was no better feeling than him holding you, as if he was joining each and every piece of you that might have the chance to break.
Being in his hold, it was like home for Aaina.
Shockingly for even himself, Zaydaan felt the same way about her. The Prime Minister looked at the clock, the only sound that could be heard around the entire room, in the pin drop silence, he could only feel her rapid breathing and the ticking of the clock.
The clock reminded him that he had a cabinet meeting in an hour and the woman he held against him reminded him that he was a husband too, he had a duty towards her. He had to be with her, in sickness and in health, in grief and in joy.
He knew she was awake and she was thinking..oh she was thinking way too much.
"Aaina." He whispered her name, she visibly shivered.
"Hmm?" She hummed, as if she was in a deep ocean of thoughts.
"Okay?" Zaydaan enquired, just mumbling if she was okay..nothing more.
