“I’ve dealt with enemies before.
But she? She challenged my ego
like it was a sport.”
Happy reading🤍!!!!
Finally, FINALLY, today I reached college on time. Yes, on time. Shocking, I know. I literally patted my own back like a clown celebrating her biggest achievement of the year.
The morning was cheerful, breezy, almost suspiciously perfect. My smile stretched even more when I spotted Shireen already in class, pretending to listen to the professor. Cute.
We immediately leaned toward each other, whispering like criminals.
"How are you doing today? How is your mood today?" she asked out of nowhere.
I blinked at her. Hard.
Was she… talking to me?
"Andhi h kya, dikh n rha theek hu mai. Mujhe kya hona h," I replied, literally pointing at my cheerful, sunshine-y face.
"Abe oo pagal. I heard you had a fight with someone on the road yesterday. I’m asking about that."
She smacked my head like my real-life slap reminder machine.
Ugh.
Here we go again.
I rolled my eyes so dramatically they almost left my skull.
"You better ask the person who told you. I’m not in the mood to remember and repeat those moments," I said, shaking my head.
"Tubaaaaa answer me or-"
"Fine, fine!" I cut her off before she started her emotional blackmail package.
So I narrated the whole chaos to her.
Her jaw? Dropped.
Her eyes? Sparkling.
"He called me wild cat. Bada aaya huh," I said, smirking like a villainess.
"Bro… he sounded SO hot," she whispered, staring into space like she just saw a hero walking in slow motion.
HOT?
HIM???
LIKE REALLY???
I stared at her, offended on behalf of every cell in my body.
"I don't want to ruin my mood because of him anymore," I declared with full heroine energy. Because why destroy my own peace over one arrogant… thing.
"I’m getting bored, that’s why," she replied casually.
Bored??
Mere rehte hue???
Wow. The audacity.
Okay fine, I was bored too.
A slow smirk stretched on my face.
"Let’s bunk."
She looked at me like I suggested murder.
"Can't. He’s a khadoos teacher."
"I have an idea," I whispered, my smile now fully demonic.
I took out chalk pieces from my bag, aimed…
AND....
PATTTT!
Headshot.
Clean. Beautiful. Oscar-worthy.
The professor froze, then turned like an angry buffalo.
"WHO did this?"
After a moment, his suspicious gaze found us, because of course the class tattletales were already pointing fingers behind our backs. So helpful, bless their souls.
"Stand up. Both of you."
We stood up instantly, trying to look guilty but not too guilty.
"GET OUT!! Right NOW!"
Ah yes.
Freedom.
Sweet, sweet freedom.
I was internally dancing but outside I kept my tragedy heroine face o
n till we stepped out.
And the moment the door shut?
Hehehe.
We were FREE.
⸻ ❦ ⸻
The stubborn rain had turned into drizzle by the time, Haider stepped out of the store, scrolling through the message Abeer had sent him five times already.
His mind was tired and crowded, so when he pulled out a card from his jacket pocket a paper slipped.
A thin sheet of paper fluttered down like a dying butterfly.
He moved ahead without noticing it, but someone picked it up for him.
A middle-aged woman with warm eyes and grocery bags in her hands held it out with a gentle smile.
“Beta… your paper.”
Haider exhaled, relieved. “Thank you, aunty. I really needed this.”
She nodded, her bangles softly clinking as she adjusted her bags again.
And that’s when he noticed, the bags were heavy, the road was muddy, and she was clearly struggling.
“Let me help,” he said.
Not out of politeness,
out of basic humanity.
But she shook her head. “No no, I’ll manage. My house is a little ahead.”
Haider glanced at the darkening sky, the clouds threatening to burst again.
He took the bags anyway.
“Aunty, it’s fine. At least let me drop you. Baarish phir se start ho jayegi.”
Her eyes widened slightly, surprised by his firmness, touched by his tone.
“Allah khush rakhe tumhe, beta,” she whispered.
And she let him.
The drive was short.
The silence was soft.
Zubaida occasionally guided him through narrow lanes of Dehradun, while Haider focused on the road, unaware that this simple act…
was about to stitch fate quietly.
They stopped outside a warm little house with flower pots near the entrance.
He helped her carry the bags to the door.
“Come inside for a minute,” she said, almost instinctively.
“Aap ne itni madad ki… paani toh pi lo.”
Haider hesitated, just for a heartbeat, then nodded.
He stepped inside.
The house was warm, soft, lived-in.
A corner table with books.
A dupatta thrown over a chair.
A faint scent of floral perfume in the air.
He didn’t know it belonged to a girl who was right now in her college, ranting to her friend.
He didn’t know his footsteps were echoing in a place that was about to be tied to his destiny.
After scanning the house, he asked casually, "you live alone here?"
Zubaida, while pouring water, casually replied:
“ Nahi. Mai aur meri beti. Bachchi abhi college gayi hui hai… aaj kal bohot busy rehti hai.”
Just a normal line.
Nothing suspicious.
No hint of who “bachchi” even is.
Haider didn’t think twice. Why would he?
He drank the water, thanked her, and left.
⸻ ❦ ⸻
Miral settled in the passenger seat, fastening her seatbelt.
“Everything’s done. We can leave,” she said softly.
Haider nodded once, started the engine, and the car rolled onto the main road.
Just a few lanes ahead, Tuba and Shireen were walking, completely lost in their own world, laughing about something only they understood.
Neither of them noticed the black SUV approaching.
And inside the SUV, Haider didn’t notice her either.
Not yet.
But destiny had already placed them on the same road, moving towards the same moment, moving towards the same moment.
They didn’t know it…
But the universe was already smirking,
because their next encounter was closer than either of them realised.
…because second clash was only a few breaths away.
❀ 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ 𓈒 𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𓈒 ࣪𓂃 ❀
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Until then,
~Love, love🤍
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