I woke up after taking a short nap. Thankfully, my headache is gone. I looked at the clock, I had 1 hour to make dinner. It had been a long time I made tortillas. As a bachelor, I had always preferred a quick meal. I was unsure if I could make proper tortillas or not. Besides, Zoya looked so desperate to eat tortillas which made me nervous.  I walked out of my room and checked out Zoya. She was nowhere around the kitchen and her room was locked. Maybe she was inside. I entered into the kitchen and took the container of flour. It was hard for me to knead the dough after a long time. While kneading it I recalled the moment when my granny taught me to make round tortillas when I was 16. After my parents' demise, I had to learn everything to survive. I was the guy who never lifted a glass of water to drink when my parents were alive. Life had taught me every lesson throughout the journey that I made without my parents. Twelve years were enough for me to turn my

AbrarAs I completed venting my anger on her she scowled at me. I had literally forgotten that she wasn't my actual wife on whom I could shout; well I shouldn't even if she was my wife. However, there was always a bittersweet right among couples which I didn't have on her. She was the daughter of my boss. The scariest truth."I'm.... I'm sorry", I hang my head."You're a frustrated soul", she sighed, serving herself another tortilla. She didn't fire back at me? I was hoping to get something worst; like a warning. She kept eating, ignoring me completely as I focused on my meal too without bragging about the thing. We were quietly eating when she hummed."Umm. You cook well""Thanks", I muffled, looking down and munching."How was your day at the office?", she asked, leaving me a bit shocked. I gaped at her as she lifted her head and rolled her eyes. "What? I'm asking a casual question. Is there any problem in asking this?""No! I was j

Abrar "Zoya", I swiveled around and looked at her, the dark grey eyes almost turned red in anger. "I didn't mean it" The words could sound in a wrong way which I didn't think before uttering. For a girl, a single word could define much more than anyone's intention. "You did mean it, Abrar Zafar. All men are the same", she groaned, looking away. "You're taking it too far, Zoya. I didn't mean it at all. I just said it's not safe to stay with a stranger. No? It's wrong. People don't feel safe. That's what I meant" "But I know you are safe", she scowled at me. Her kohl-applied eyes came upon mine, ruddy and stable and I kept peering into them. More than her eyes, her words mesmerized me, well–shocked me. How could she know that I was safe for her? We met just a few days ago. She decided to come with me just a few hours later we met. Zoya Ali was nothing but a complete mystery to me– a mystery that I was scared to unfold. The more I

Abrar Her sharp gaze gave chills down to my spine. I ignored the eye contact. "I was passing by the kitchen. But this is not the case. I'm just telling you", I mumbled, turning towards my room. "Well, if you didn't tell me either, I wouldn't bother to give efforts to make you happy", she said from behind. My legs stopped there when I twisted the knob of the door. "Do you think I have so much time to do this when we are not even connected? I remember everything. I also remember that I'm not your wife, there's no marriage. You don't need to repeat this every time to make me realize that I'm an uninvited guest to you", her rough words pinched me. Every word she uttered was true but I didn't expect them to be said. Maybe, I wanted her to do the opposite. "I never said you're an uninvited guest, Zoya", I sighed. "But you keep repeating the same thing, Abrar. Can't you just forget that and stay like a housemate with me?", she

AbrarZoya tugged her black wavy hairs behind her ears, a tiny ear pin glistened, fluttering my focus completely onto her appearance. She managed to pull on the best dressing sense according to the place. The white suit looked satisfactorily good on her."Thanks", I managed to say while collecting it and passed a tight-lipped smile. "But why did you bother?""I guess you better have your lunch now. The lunch hour is gonna end soon", she said.I looked around, finding the receptionist smiling at us. I felt awkward for a moment before looking back at her again. She was arranging her stole neatly on her shoulder as her thick hairs waved down, covering half of her face."Stop staring at her, Abrar", I screamed at myself and mumbled, looking at my wristwatch."Did you eat?", I asked as she looked up, crossing her arms."No. I can't travel after lunch. It gives me a stomach ache", she said."Oh! You didn't need to come", pale guilt i