**Zoha's POV:**

When I was returning to my room after having dinner, my eyes were on the box that Ayat had brought inside along with the pizza box.

"Should I open it and see what's inside?" I asked myself. "No, let's go to sleep, Zoha," my mind replied. But then a voice in my heart urged, "What's the harm in opening it and taking a look?" I decided to set my mind aside and listen to my heart.

Filled with curiosity, I approached the box, took it in my hands, and began to open it. As I lifted the lid, I discovered a lot of white feathers inside. After removing the feathers, I found a picture that featured me, with the word "MINE" written in bold letters across it. I was shocked and felt frozen in place.

Just then, Ayat called out from behind, "Kya kar rahi ho? Yahan sona nahi hai!" (What are you doing? It's not time to sleep here!) It was Ayat's question that finally snapped me out of my trance.

"I'm coming!" I replied, glancing at the picture. I quickly put all the feathers and the picture back in the box and took it to my room, trying to hide it from my younger sister. Somehow, I managed to keep the box in my cabinet, ensuring it was out of my sister's sight.

**Author's POV:**

There was a knock on Arav's door. He was asleep, unaware that the sound was disturbing his rest. When he finally got up, he brushed his hair back.

"Who is there?" he called out.

"Main hu, khol," came the reply.

Upon recognizing the voice, Arav decided to have some fun. "Main kon? Is naam ke insaan ko main nahi janta," he teased.

"Okay fine, I'm leaving. Aur tu mar idhr hi!" the voice responded.

Arav laughed as he opened the door. "Acha, rok meri drama queen!"

As soon as Arav opened the door, Arsh turned around, playfully pushed Arav aside, and went into his room, sitting on the couch with his legs folded.

Arav followed Arsh and sat on the corner of the bed in front of him. "What are you doing in my room at this time?" he asked.

At this question, Arsh looked at him and said, "I want peace; I want her..." He whispered the last three words so softly that Arav could hardly hear.

"Tujhe phir se ye problem hone lagi?" Arav asked, seeking confirmation.

Arsh rested his head back on the couch and, gazing up at the ceiling, replied softly, "Jab se usse dekha hain." He again closed his eyes, and her face came in front of him. In this, he saw only her eyes and her voice, which started giving him peace like a sweet song.

Suddenly, Arsh got up from his place and started going towards the door. Seeing Arsh going, Arav asked, "Kaha jaraha ab? " Arsh replied with a smile, "Apne sukoon ke pass." Arav could not understand anything and said, "What? Sukoon" Without listening to Arav, Arsh went to his peace.

......

She was doing her best to sleep, but her mind wouldn't stop racing. No matter how hard she tried, thoughts kept circling back to the box containing her picture. Dressed in her home clothes, a kurta and shalwar, she felt completely at ease. In contrast, when she wore her gown (Abaya) outside, it was a reminder of the scrutiny she faced. The thought of someone watching her or entering her home made her anxious. Unable to settle, she got out of bed and sat up. Feeling uneasy, she decided to get some fresh air and stepped out onto the balcony of her room.

He got off his bike, walked a few steps, and stood in front of her house. He was dressed in a deep black hoodie that cloaked his upper body, its fabric soft yet sturdy, providing a perfect shield against the chill. His fitted black skinny jeans hugged his legs, complementing the overall dark aesthetic of his outfit. A sleek black mask concealed his face completely, adding an air of mystery, while a matching black cap sat low on his brow, further obscuring his features. On his feet, he wore robust black boots, their soles designed for grip and stealth, while his hands were encased in snug black gloves, ensuring he left no trace behind.

He carefully scaled the wooden gate, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and anxiety as he stepped into the quaint little garden. The air was fragrant with blooming flowers, their colors vibrant against the greenery, and he found himself enchanted by the serene atmosphere. As he ventured further in, he was suddenly drawn to a soft sound, like a whisper carried by the gentle breeze. It led him to a spot directly beneath her balcony, where he instinctively paused, his breath hitching in his throat.

There she was, standing gracefully, clad in a simple yet elegant white kurta and salwar, the fabric flowing softly around her. Her eyes were closed, framing an expression of deep contemplation, a subtle worry etched on her forehead that reminded him of their first meeting. The only significant difference was her lack of a veil today, exposing the delicate beauty of her features to the warm moonlight. At that moment, breathless and captivated, he felt an overwhelming urge to wrap her in his arms, to shield her from whatever trouble clouded her thoughts.

Unbeknownst to her, he stood just out of sight, a silent observer. She appeared so vulnerable, absorbed in fervent prayers to Allah, and he wished he could be the one to ease her burden. He fished his phone from his pocket, instinctively snapping a picture to capture this ephemeral moment. Although seeing her without her veil was not entirely unknown lasted only a fleeting moment-he wanted to relish every second spent in her presence, fully and completely.

She finally opened her eyes, momentarily lost in thought before gracefully turning away and walking towards her room. Watching her retreat, a twinge of sadness settled over him. He leaned gently against the cool wall for support, trying to comprehend the surge of emotions within him. Just then, he heard the soft creak of the door opening, snapping him back to the reality of the moment.

As soon as he detected the sound, he quickly ducked behind the sturdy wall, his heart racing with a mixture of fear and curiosity. From his concealed vantage point, he couldn't see anything but was acutely aware of the surrounding noises. Then, he caught the faint murmur of a voice rising above the cacophony. "Are there not enough problems in my life, and there are some again _Allah Pak, you know everything, right... Then please help me, whatever it is, no one knows it except you and me," she spoke fervently, her eyes fixed upward as if seeking answers from the heavens.

His brows furrowed deeply, trying to process the words he just heard. "She's praying," he realized, his voice almost silent. "And she's asking God for help with something she can't tell anyone else." He found himself strangely curious and protective. "What kind of problems does she have?"

Leaning against the same wall where he was hiding. she took a deep breath, her anguish mixed with determination. After a moment, she pushed herself away from the wall and gracefully settled onto a charming, fairy-themed chair nestled in the garden. The delicate floral patterns on the chair almost matched the vibrant colors of the blooming flowers around her, creating a serene backdrop. With her back turned to him, she appeared lost in conversation with herself, the words spilling from her lips like a waterfall.

Suddenly, her gaze landed on Dhanno, her beloved scooty, parked nearby, and her mood shifted dramatically. A spark of fire ignited within her as she thought of the driver of the car who had carelessly damaged her prized possession. "Aur upar se us 6 futiya insan ne meri Dhanno ko zakhmi kar diya!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with frustration. "Let me meet him once, Allah Pak he, I too will break the headlight of his car!" Her cheeks flushed with indignation as she rubbed her hands together in a gesture of irritation.

He couldn't help but lean his right shoulder further into the wall, a smile creeping across his face as he listened to her passionate rant, utterly captivated by her spirit and the authenticity of her emotions.

"Well, something good has happened to me as you must know... I was almost dying and I also have to thank the person who took me to the hospital." She spoke happily.

He couldn't help but chuckle to himself, amused by the irony of the situation. Here he was, the notorious Arsh Ali Shah, hiding like a teenage boy. "She has no idea it was me who took her to the hospital," he said to himself.

"But that person is very rude. Maybe I told his friend or whatever he was, that I have to thank him and I have to meet him, but that rude person did not have a little time." She became angry and sad and said as if she was complaining to her Allah about you

He couldn't help but smirk slightly, amused and strangely touched by her frustration directed towards him, unaware. "She's adorable when she's angry," he mused silently, his protective instincts kicking in despite himself. "Poor girl, she'll likely never know it was me she was complaining about to God."

"But whatever it is, I have to thank that rude person"

She said with calm and seriousness.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise at her words. Despite her earlier frustration, she still wanted to thank him. A slow smile spread across his face as he realized the irony of the situation. Here he was, the man she wanted to thank, hiding just feet away, eavesdropping on her every word.

"Amore, I don't want your thanks, I want you, from today onwards and always," he smirked and mumbled.

Meanwhile, Zoha started feeling sleepy, and she felt that it was too late, so she should go to her room and sleep. And she got up from her chair. Seeing her get up from the chair, he again stuck behind the wall, and Zoha went inside the house. Then he came out from behind the wall, and he saw her going for the last time from behind.

"Hasratein machal gayi jab tumhein dekha ek pal ke liye,

Na jane deewaangi me kya haal hoga mera jab miloge tum umar bhar ke liye"

He whispered these lines and slowly walked away from there