"I'm falling for your eyes but they don't know me yet." -Ed Sheeran
Playlist:
Alicia Keys - Girl on fire
AALIYAN'S P.O.V.
It was impossible to understand the girl and even more impossible to understand the pain hidden in her gray eyes—eyes so beautiful that they haunted me to no end.
My first thought was her eyes upon waking up and my last thought before a deep slumber consumed me was her eyes. When I ate, I saw her eyes, and on their own, my hands would stop moving. The spoon would fall from my hand, and I'd leave the food untouched. Reading the files in my office, I would zone out about thinking about her Gray eyes. Her coffee brown hair flew in the air freely in content.
I never saw her smiling or talking. She would sit with a book and headphones on, oblivious from the entire world.
That girl had something that drew me to her, not to mention her eyes. Those eyes were more glistening than stars. I had seen many beautiful girls all my life. So beautiful that I would be overwhelmed at their beauty—no one gave me the feelings she did.
She played a spell on me, so durable, I couldn't break it. I didn't find anything fascinating anymore as I had already found the most fascinating creation of God.
I waited for her lips to curl up in a little, even a very tiny smile; it never happened. I waited for the day those lips would smile at me, for me—because of me. Every day I waited and every day felt like a full century.
It had been four months, and nothing had changed in my life but something had changed, and that change was not for the better, the sorrow on her face made me depressed for no reason. I would be grumpy all day, snapping at everyone. My staff who used to be so frank with me now wouldn't even say good morning because they feared I would snap at them for silly reasons. For God's sake Aaliyan, you don't know her; you don't even know her name!
I had tried to make myself understand that it's not right to let a person you didn't know ruin your good self and bring out the worst in you. I was going crazy because of the thoughts of her that wouldn't let me live.
I took off from my office for two days so I could snuggle in my bed and clear my head from her thoughts—I found myself roaming in the park. It was early in the morning, and it was messing with my head that she wasn't there when I desperately needed to see her.
That day, I, Aaliyan Haider, C.E.O. of one of the biggest multiple businesses of Pakistan, realized how bad she had me. How badly I had lost it, how badly I wanted to see her—her unusual beauty and maybe tell her how I felt.
I left the country for two weeks in the hope that I would be like before when I come back. Cool, calm, and collected.
I was wrong.
☆☆☆
I was back from Paris after spending two of the most depressing weeks of my life. The same routine continued, and to be honest to myself, I enjoyed observing her but the more I watched her, the more confused I got.
She hit a kid playing by himself with hatred. I got terrified, then a loud laugh left my mouth. What was with hitting the innocent kids? No reason, nothing. I panted at her cruelty. What did that sweet kid do? What right did she have to hit kids?
When the kid went away crying, I realized her face was wet. Not from raindrops falling gently on her face but from the salty water that left her eyes. She cried, leaning her back against a tree, wiping her tears and wiping the newly formed tears again.
A sick feeling rose in the pit of my stomach. I had never seen a girl cry like that. I wanted to go to her, console her to whatever her problem was, but I couldn't gather the courage to. I didn't know who she was. Where did she live in this area? What was it that hurt her so badly? Why was she alone? Why alone?
After a couple of days, I craved to have a glimpse of that face, which made me freeze. I saw her. I saw her and ecstasy blossomed in my heart.
She strode towards the kids who feared her but also had a frown on their faces. She smiled at them, raising her hands in surrender. She extended her hands to her ears and held her earlobes, and she shouted, "Sorry."
My head spun, and my world spun. I found myself holding a tree, my head leaning onto it. I saw her with my peripheral vision, made difficult by my hooded eyes.
The smile on her face made the world spin around me and stop at the same time. Her sorry—that innocent apology—hit me with an epiphany that this sorry this sound would always ring in my head until my last breath.
The pout on her cherry color lips made me want to go to her. Propose to her right then and there. The thought hit me like a train. Was I thinking that? Did I just think to propose to her? Was it that simple?
You have gone crazy, Aaliyan; you have forgotten your limits!
I closed my eyes to my mind and paid full attention to her.
She put a hand in her pocket, took out candy and chocolates, and gave them to the kids. They took the candies with frowns and pouts on their faces.
Did she win the kids with toffees? Yes, she did.
If somebody told me a few days back that I would do what I was going to do now. I would have laughed in their faces for expecting that from me, and now my inner self was smiling in my face.
I followed her. I stalked her.
A part of me was scolding me doing such a cheap thing. For being ruthless and ignorant to the facts and stalking a girl who could be a past serial killer and was now a child hitter.
Another part of me wanted to know her, console her, hold her, bring all the happiness, and put her in her feet.
When she kept going towards my house, I was shell-shocked. Did she sense that I was following her? No, she couldn't. The most important thing I learned about her was: she was unobservant to the point she could never tell what happened around her two minutes ago. She was cut off from the world and its matters.
The second time on the same day, my world spun in front of my eyes. This time it was because of anger when she opened Auntie Sabira's house door.
Who was she? Did Uncle Mubashir sell the house or put it on rent? I was thunderstruck at how he could do this to Auntie Sabira. It was her house, her property.
I called him. Rage surged through my body, blocking me from thinking clearly. "Who's the girl in Auntie Sabira's house? Uncle, why did you ..."
"Whoa whoa... easy young man..." He was terrified by my yelling.
"How?" I clenched my fists and stopped myself from saying something that I would regret later.
"She's Musca."
"Musca," I heard myself whisper, the perfect name for a girl like her.
"Yeah, Musca."
"Musca as in Auntie Sabira's daughter," my eyes widened as my pulse picked up in thrill.
"Exactly," his voice was filled with delight.
"But... why? How - she -"
"I don't know why." His tone was neutral. "She came back, and she's going to live here for a long time."
"Aap... Kya aap ney? Did you ask her to come back?"
"No, she came here by herself," he sighed. "And she doesn't know things."
"What do you mean by things?" My eyes narrowed.
"She doesn't know about anything, Aaliyan..." He huffed. "It's difficult to explain. Let things happen the way things are going."
I disconnected the call in frustration. Let the things happen the way they are happening, and behave like a dumb cat!
Now, I grasped the reason why she was the way she was. I understood all the peculiar things she did. She was hurt; her mum had died. She had all the right to be the way she was. She had the right to be angry at everyone. Life had not been fair to her. Has life ever been fair to anyone?
I couldn't fathom the feelings I had inside my stubborn heart. Like an obedient child, I started to follow its commands and ended up being near her. I would see her as she listened to the professors with concentration. Nodding, biting her lips, chewing pencil, scratching her chin, acting all-wise.
I, Aaliyan Haider, was coming to the university to watch her. Just to look at the most precious thing I had ever laid my eyes on. I, Aaliyan Haider, managed to know her every move, everything she did, and she did not.
Hearing her talk once and the only word I heard was sorry, I wanted to listen to her talking more and more. . . even that single word 'sorry' rang in my mind, making me think of her that I already do most of the time.
Then, at last, I heard her talking to a girl. All I could think was how someone could have such an angelic voice. A laugh so beautiful, it could give a person lovesickness, and it had given me that.
She had gone through so much. Now it was her turn to be happy. I know she'd be alright. I prayed for her.
I had come to know all she needed was love and caring. She seemed homesick. I was going to be her home. I was going to be the light she was missing. I was going to enter her life as soon as possible.
As if you haven't entered her life.
Yeah, I had stalked her, but it didn't mean that she knew me. Yeah, I met her in the speech competition. But it wasn't a meeting.
I gathered all my courage. She didn't seem that bad, no? Yeah right.
I'm going to her house. Yes, I'm going.
I was standing at her door, but I turned around even before ringing her bell.
I could do this, you could do this Aaliyan be a man, go.
I turned back, finding courage arising in me as I rang the bell. She opened the door on the second bell.
My presence left her astonished for a minute. Her silver-Gray eyes were taking my breath away and the glowing skin was more beautiful under the yellow lights. Her brown hair was in a braid. I had to make it easy, play wisely and someday . . . maybe eventually I will win her.
I acted as I came here for coffee. I couldn't think of anything else. Yeah, I was that nervous.
Her house reflected her life's mentality accurately. I knew her heart, her personality was scattered like those broken bottles and crumpled cans. But her playlist told another story. I sat there, feeling my face burning.
I was successful in persuading her to go with me to university every day. I knew I had work to attend, but work could wait. A girl, as stunning as her, couldn't.
I was a successful businessman known for my strategic mind. I was a rough and tough person. I would have laughed if someone told me that this rough and tough person would download every available video of Musca's soccer matches. And would sleep watching her playing soccer with passion, I would have laughed for hours.
I would have laughed like a madman if someone told me that I, Aaliyan Haider, would wake up earlier than ever. Because I was afraid that If I was late, she would drive to the university without waiting for me.
What if she gets hurt and I'm not there? I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.
I wanted to protect her and make her feel loved, cared, and wanted. Her rare eyes and strange personality attracted me to think about her. It happened, and I was not ashamed. I was not the sort of person who would be ashamed of their feelings. I accept my feelings and mistakes easily, but...
My heart told me this time in front of this girl that I wouldn't be able to accept my feelings and mistakes. Because, if I did that would probably boost her enormous ego, and she'd leave me.
I couldn't tolerate her rejecting me, ever.