Will not update until

The target gets completed

Target is down there.

✥ ════ ❃•❃ ════ ✥

𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼, 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭.

"The place is quite wide."

Laiba said in astonishment, looking around the gigantic hall. The house was made with his complete dedication. The house he always dreamt to live in. It looked absolutely fine.

"Yes, it is." Sahar said as they walked into the corridor. "There are many rooms I guess. How many people do live here?"

"It's just 4. Nani, Mama, Mami and Izhaan but when sometimes I come for staying a week or few days. I occupy my room on the other corridor, probably the last one. Other than that every room is empty. There are 10. We occupy almost four, the other six are vacant."

Laiba nods. Her eyes ran across the paintings of nature and colours. There was this one painting in the middle of the corridor, she stood still and gazed at it. "You like paintings?" Sahar queried.

"I do. Who painted this?"

The painting had splash of blood with a golden hue besides in the border. Her eyes stayed darted at the frame. "Izhaan does. His love for art grew ironically though he aces science."

"He seems like a guy who doesn't believes in art."

"Trust me, he is too good at everything." Sahar appreciated as she glanced at the painting. They were walking up the stairs. Laiba's eyes stayed rooted at the painting. "You like this one?"

"I don't know I love the colour red. Every shade of red, there's some peace in it for me." She said sighing. "I understand. Every colour tells you a story of their own and we get lost in that story, the peacefulness of the story."

"You quoted it right but if I may ask, what's the colour of your story?" Laiba asked. Sahar seemed to think about her life, a splash of regrets and gratitude turned with a flashback. All she could see was turquoise and ivory.

"Half of my life, I would say it was turquoise and half of it is ivory."

"Nice combination," Laiba said turning towards the first corridor. "What about you?" She heard Sahar ask. "I haven't figured out yet. I don't know if it's really maroon that I adore. But my heart is too close with that colour as if there's a connection we have."

"I understand."

"The mansion is nice. It would be troublesome for the workers to clean." Laiba tried easing the conversation, giggling it way as Sahar seemed a little too taken aback.

"Not that they clean the other six rooms everyday. Just weekly once or in every two to three days. I guess it gets easier for them that way." She said walking slowly around with Laiba.

"That's much better. His wife would not leave him if she gets dumped with so much of responsibility." Laiba giggled making Sahar laugh as well. "He isn't married yet," she answered.

"Oops! He isn't? I thought... He'd be atleast engaged."

"Why did you thought that way?"

"I don't know. Something in his eyes made me ponder that he might adore someone else."

Sahar felt a little bad about that. Because no matter how much she is blessed with Shahveer. A part of her hates herself that she hurt Izhaan. She wasn't able to forgive herself for leaving him though he was the one to let her go. She couldn't forgive herself not unless he settles with someone who will love him, just the way she loves Shahveer.

"I hope; I hope he finds his life partner soon," she says, gazing at the flower vase in the corridor. "I hope so too."

"By the way, do you like that painting?" Sahar stopped walking making her stop as well. "It's pretty."

"Ask him sometimes, he will make that for you." Laiba knitted he brows thinking why would a millionaire like him waste his time making a painting for her? A nobody? A mere someone who bumped into him.

"For me? I am sure we won't encounter each other again." She reasoned, continuing their walk as she started adoring the mansion again.

"No. I don't feel that way." Sahar picked her pace and they roamed around.

"Mummy jee!" They heard. Shahzaib, Shahveer's and Sahar's son ran across the corridor but at the end he ended up rolling against the carpet and the glass of juice he had in his hand splashed across the floor making sure they ended up at Sahar and Laiba. Sahar barely had it splashed whereas Laiba had it too much on her.

"I am so sorry, Laiba."

Sahar said helping Shahzaib stand up.

"It's fine, Sahar. Just guide me to the washroom."

"Mummy jee, are you fine?" He questioned with concern all over his face. "I am. Did you got hurt?" He shook his head, walking forward he smiled at Laiba and said, "I am sorry."

"It's okay, kiddo!" She grinned at his cuteness and Sahar guided her to the washroom.

She asked Laiba if it was fine for her to leave her as Shahzaib was crying for another glass of juice. Laiba said it was fine and she left.

After minutes of washing the essence and colour of her saree, she walked for a while so that it does not stays wet. Took several tissues to soothe the wetness down and was about to open the door when she heard voices of males. She stood rooted, holding the knob tightly. Her hands turned cool. She could recognise one if it was of Izhaan's and another seemed similar but she couldn't recognise it well.

She waited few seconds before the muffled voices stopped. She decided to come out once she was sure there was complete silence. She walked outside and was about to leave the room when she heard, "Excuse me?"

She turned around. She didn't expected him to be here. At least the only man who generated a fear in her life.

Areeb Ghafur

She looked down as soon as she recognised him. The only person who broke her to the instance that she's still carrying the numb wounds in her heart.

"You here, sweet pea?"

Her fear tripled as soon as she heard him call her by that. She started shivering under his gaze.

Areeb was her past, a tragic one.

She turned around to walk further, avoiding him completely. It was not further past two steps when he stood in front of her. She did not dared to look at him.

"Is it so hard to look at me?"

He sneaked his fingers towards her wrist and held it tighter by each passing second.

"Let me go, Areeb!"

"Hearing this makes me feel so better. You don't understand, what kind of obsession I have with you." She wriggled in his hold.

"What are you doing? Let me go."

"Not now, sweet pea. You know how much I have missed you," she heard him. Suddenly, they heard steps against the wooden floor outside. He let her go and stood a little far. She held her wrist, trying to calm her racing heart.

Laiba started walking towards the door. Trying to be as quick as she can but her steps stopped when she saw Izhaan standing.

"Laiba?"

He looked back and forth at her and Areeb. He comprehended with the way she was holding her wrist that something was wrong, "Is everything alright? What happened to your wrists?"

"I am fine," she said a little louder than usual as she breathes unevenly. Izhaan speculated that something might be wrong. "You here in my room?"

"Shahzaib spilled juice on my saree, mistakenly. Sahar was showing me the house and she told me to wash it here in this washroom. I didn't knew it was your room. I am sorry if it concerns you with someone else invading your room."

"Hey! It's completely fi-"

"Izhaan is my friend, sweet pea. You don't need to be scared." Areeb cut him off. Laiba stared at him confused.

"Stop calling me that, Areeb," She ran out of the room. Izhaan gazed at her retreating figure.

Sweet pea?

"Is she your friend?"

"Friend?" He smirked. "I am her lover."

His heart shuttered into pieces.

"... Lover?" He questioned with a straight face, hardening with every passing second. "But why was she angry?"

"We fought," Areeb said out like it wasn't a big deal for him. She wasn't his admirer. She hated him, loathed him for even existence.

"Ohh..." Izhaan lowered his gaze and stared at the corridor from where she left.

•

Izhaan's life had been quite hectic. Everytime he liked anything, there's always someone who'd like it more. He didn't wished for anything that peculiar and out of the world. Was loving so hard in his life?

He rubbed his eyes, due to constantly concentrating in the screen in front of him. It ached. He went towards the washroom and splashed the water, soothing his eyes. He stood there quite a while and walked back outside. He took his phone which ringing in the table.

"Hello?"

"Izhaan? How much will you make us wait beta? For how many days, you'll show up late at night? At this rate, you will complete all the projects that your employees are supposed to do."

"Ammi, I am departing for home. Don't worry, I'll be up. Even so, why are you waiting for me? I told you I'll be late these days as I have huge projects to look after."

He switched off the iMac, took the files and his laptop walking out of the room. The office was completely empty except the watchman, he strides towards the lift.

"Your phupha, Sahar and Shahveer have come here. They are waiting for you, Izhaan."

He went inside the lift and pressed underground parking floor's button as he waited for it to lift down. "I wasn't aware of it. Neither Shahveer nor Sahar told me about it."

"Will she tell you about her every visit to her own house? Why will she do that, Izhaan? What's wrong with you?"

"I'll be back, Ammi. I need to drive now."

He started walking towards his car and sat inside it. "Come back. I don't know what's up with you..."

He threw his phone in the passenger seat lightly, keeping the filed and laptop beside it. He massaged his head, thinking of a need to buy coffee.

Parking his car out of starbucks, he went inside the cafe and ordered a cappuccino and turned around to leave when he bumped to the girl in front.

"Laiba," he whispered.

"Izhaan?"

His ears soothed with the way she called him. How he wished that it was forever. Restlessly, his eyes travelled towards the depth of her's. Comfort that he never found elsewhere was dumped inside. Wearing a pastel blue top with white palazzo, accompanied with her white hijab; she did not looked less than a fairy.

He questioned with a smirk, "Do you have a fetish to bump into me?"

She laughed, "It was a coincidence."

"Two cold coffee please?" She said out towards the waiter and turned towards him. His eyes went towards the customers sitting in the table, there was a man waiting. May be it was Areeb, he assumed.

"Seems like you have a date waiting for you."

"As if!" She scoffed waiting for the coffee. "You here?"

"Why can't I be here?" He laughed. She rolled her eyes for her stupidity. "Do you paint?" She queried.

"Yes." He paused. "Why?"

"I saw a painting in your mansion that day. It was really breathtaking. I am still not over it. It is still dancing in my eyes."

She appreciates making him laugh at her choice of words. Izhaan knitted his brows with confusion. He had painted many portraits, here he didn't knew what she was referring to. "It was a maroon one hanging in wall, in the middle of it. It was besides the stairs."

He realised which painting she was referring to. "Ahh... That? It's my favourite."

"Glad," she nods. He began, "The other day I found your bracelet in my washroom."

"I left it?" She queried, suprised. "You forgot I guess."

"Ohhh" She took the cold coffee and started walking besides Izhaan. "I'll get it may be when you next time bump into me." He jokes earning a glare from her. "You really know how to pull my leg," she glared making him laugh. "Join us," she invited.

His heart flutters looking at her. He knew if he stayed more, looking at her. He will fall for her. He sighed, knowing it's still not too late. For him, she loves Areeb and he could never jump in the way.

"I am running late. Will bump to you later." He excused himself, smiling but he knew how wounded his heart was turning, how badly it was aching.

But how will he excuse himself from threshold of love?

•