Chapter Five
Her shoulders rattled back, trembling. She runs her hand down her boots, gripping tight on the scrub. The rain was riotous, pouring down on the porch with loud thumps but she was determined to get rid of the dirt on her boots. She scrubs a little harder, more rough this time, frustrated.
Zoya was beginning to hate winter. It had been raining for the past two weeks and she was sick of it. Sick of the distinct sound of clattering rain, sick of the rough winds and she was definitely sick of the cold. She loosened her grip on the scrub as a sharp pain rushed down her arm, crippling her hand out of use.
Zoya stretched out her hand in a fan, her knuckles had turned white and the tips of her fingers were numb. She could see the veins on her hand and her usually tan skin was pasty white but the sight of her winter boots annoyed her.
Mother hated dirty boots.
The humming of the wind turned violent, roaring like a lion as it passed her by. Zoya looked up in wonder from the comfort of her seat in the front porch, shivering. It was unpleasantly cold. She gathered her shoulders together, slowly putting her boots down. The rain had worn down Grey Hill's; it was more dark and chilly than usual.
The front yard was damp; puddles had emerged and the usually emerald green grass was dark and pasty. The pathway across her yard gathered water like a bucket and the trees lined against the road looked tired.
She smiled lightly at the sight. It reminded her of walking to school with him even though it was bitter cold. It reminded her of his laughter that was soft like the feel of his skin. It reminded her of his warm lips. It reminded her of his honest shrill baby blue eyes. It reminded her of...him, entirely.
She dropped her eyelashes, moving her sight away from the scene. It was a memory she would rather forget. It also reminded her of how stupid she was. She sniffs and pushes away the strand of hair falling down on her face, more determined to get dirt of her black winter boots.
The rain had died down by the time she finished polishing them. She walked to the other side of the porch and placed the boots back at the shoe holder, somewhat content. The wind sang a soft lullaby- much more welcoming than before. The rain was now soft, merely teasing the ground as it spattered against it.
Her eyes wandered to the pathway again, her face dark and grim. The gentle rustle of the leaves made her wonder how things would be different if he was here. A rough tap on the wood and she flinches at the unmistakable sound of another life. Trying to remain calm, she casually turned over- her heart picking up pace.
The man's dark black eyes blinked with unfamiliarity at her. She swallowed- wide eyed. The stranger was strikingly tall and muscular towering over her like a building. His brilliant dark eyes ran down Zoya like blue fire but only to narrow in amusement. Zoya stood stiff, as a warm defenseless wave washed over her.
"Does Amana Farooqui live here?" He had a voice like bottled thunder, so raw and with little emotion.
She stared blankly, drinking him in. There was an air about this stranger that frightened her...something sparking up the sudden urge to run. At the back of her mind, she had questioned why he would ask for her Aunt but at that moment she did nothing but nod- unsure.
***
Zoya sat uncomfortably, watching them talk endlessly. Aunt Amana had hushed him inside so quickly that it surprised her entirely. He spoke so carelessly to her Aunt about things she did not pay attention to that it made her wonder how they knew each other.
The man that sat before her was darkly handsome. His hair was short, cropped and black like the feathers of a raven. The aquiline nose he sported complemented his prominent cheekbones while his potent jaw and Spartan shoulders spoke of strength. He was the type of handsome she had imagined women devoted their life to.
Zoya furrowed her eyebrows together as Aunt Amana squeezed his hand lovingly. She had never seen Aunt Amana so fond of someone and somewhere along the line; she always thought that fondness was limited to her. It wasn't. And it was harder for her to digest that than she had ever thought.
"What do you think?" The deep voice had a hint of a foreign accent to it, and Zoya realized it was pointed at her and that she had been bluntly staring.
She blinked at the unexpected question, not knowing how to answer. Those alarmingly dark eyes were so brilliant that they held her attention for longer than needed. They never glanced off her as his firm lips curled up into a grin. Suddenly she felt incredibly stupid.
"Zoya..." Aunt Amana laughed, looking at her quizzically, and she made a great effort to be somewhat normal.
"Sorry, what?" Zoya asked as she straightened up and glanced at Aunt Amana for clarification.
"What do you think?" It was the same dark voice speaking now. He was still staring at her, inspecting her with his steely gaze.
"About?" Her voice was a mere whisper, compared to his rough tone.
"Me. Of course." He replied, his voice softer than before- almost teasingly warm. Instantly her head snapped up to attention and her eyebrows rose at him. Zoya watched his grin turn menacing, making him look more striking than before.
"Asad!" It was Aunt Amana this time as she lightly slapped his thigh before turning her focus to Zoya. "You will get used to him, Zoya."
Used to him? She hoped not. Zoya didn't look back. It was all proving too much. The urge to run was stronger than before and she hoped that he would leave soon. She could tell she wasn't going to be fond the stranger before her... at all. There was something about him that irked her; that despite his handsome face, he made every fear fade into the back of her mind.
"So, did you like what you saw?" He asked, more serious this time.
"Excuse me?" she replied, diverting her attention to elsewhere but his face.
"Did you like India? Amana told me you recently went to India." He sneered at her like a cherished cat with dark black eyes- clearly taunting her for his amusement.
"I..." she starts only to stop as her sight met his glassy dark black eyes. She blinks at him- dazed.They were so sinister... so rich. "I ... liked... it very much... but I have to go and see Ayaan now." She said, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
Aunt Amana looked at her, eyebrows knitted together; confused but nodded anyway. She wanted to leave as soon as possible, unable to take in another second around him, another second in the thick air.
"Ayaan? Sounds like a boy's name." He stated his voice deep and rough, ignoring the part where she was meant to leave.
She shot him an icy glare.
"Boyfriend, maybe?" He questioned further.
"No." She shook her head, trying to remain calm.
"Fiance?" He asked.
"No." She swallowed, hoping he would stop. When she looked up at him, he was already staring at her, with eyes narrowed on her face.
"Surely you're too young to be married." His face was dark and serious.
"What does it matter to you?" She snaps at him- suddenly finding the urge to retort back, to fight him, to stop him making her feel so wrong. Dark thick eyebrows rose at her tone and she immediately regretted it when her sight met her Aunt's accusing gaze.
She knew that it was childish to snap like that, to make a dig at him so candidly but his presence was so dominant that it was either fight, run or hide. She closed her eyes shut and stood up immediately to leave, suddenly feeling grateful to move.
"I am sorry. I was supposed to meet him 10 minutes ago. It was nice meeting you." Her tone was softer and calmer than before.
"Allow me to drop you off to your destination." He looked at her, amused.
"No." She replies stiffly- panic building inside her at the idea of being alone with him. "I can drive myself." She grabs her coat which was resting on the couch and forced her lips together into an apologetic smile.
"Of course you can." He stops to look at her before continuing "I just don't want you to hurt yourself." He added, with a wicked grin.
"No need to worry, I am an adult." She cringes at her words and the unnecessary information she had given to the stranger who sat with legs stretched out and head tilted back against the chair. She looked at Aunt Amana, who had been observing them quietly, behaving as though there was no tension between them, surprised by her silence.
"Very well." He said, nodding and ignoring her prudish attitude. "It's been raining, be careful." Asad looked at her mockingly and she felt a great urge to wipe the grin off his face.
She nods, and heads out the door as fast as she can-ignoring the pair of eyes burning against her back. As soon as she was outside, she lets out a deep breath and brings her coat together- finding it easier to breathe out here. The man was overbearing, arrogant and a dick. She didn't understand how Aunt Amana knew such a person, let alone look at him with fondness.
Zoya wanted the stranger to leave as soon as possible.
Hey guys! I am sorry for the delay. I hope you like this chapter- i am at peace with it- don't like it very much/ don't hate it either. Just wanted his character to be interesting -I like my male protagonist's to be sarcastic and mean so if you expected him to be like his character on the show- i must warn you off this fanfic. Other than that I hope you like Asad's entry and stay tuned to find out what happens next :)
Hey Prii...wts up? Hope you are doing fine?...Missed you on IF...Love the update...Finally Mr. Asad is here..Love his entry..I am in love with his character already...Zoya is strongly affected by him...Lets see how story will move now...waiting to read more so do continue soon..Thanks for the PM..Take care
Lots of Love
Geet
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