"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same"
A tale where lies are woven, traps are laid and history awaits to be ignited again.
Dive into the world of the Khans, Ahmeds, and Sikander's as they rove in the dark swamps of greed, power...
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𝄗𝄗𝄗𝄗♞𝄗𝄗𝄗𝄗
The atmosphere between the two of them was tinged with memories of a long-ago time. She caught a glimpse of the familiar blues as she approached the room with small steps. She wasn't sure if he was astonished or not, but she kept that to herself by keeping a stiff exterior.
Years of effort are required to learn to control your emotions. They couldn't afford to express their emotions or opinions in public in this environment. A harsh world they existed in.
Placing themselves on the sofa on either side of Rayyan, they continued to stare at each other. What happened in these three years was clueless to each other. How they were, how they changed, what changed, who changed them- so many unanswered questions were dancing in their mind. Being naturally observant, both of them were taking in whatever they could.
"Let's start, shall we?" Rayyan spoke. They weren't sure if he noticed their composure but they did need to get work done.
"So with proper introductions," titling his head to Zaroon, he spoke. "Zaroon, my son. Eldest son. And this is Rab-"
"Rabail Noor Khan," Zarron spoke out her name causing the atoms in the air between them to vibrate with his sound waves.
"We know each other, Uncle," It had been a while since his eardrums vibrated with her voice. Still an ice-queen, he thought with a chuckle.
"Oh? Oh yeah, skipped my mind," Rayyan replied as his mind went over the memory reel. They did know each other- having the same class, working in a group, and socially connected back then. Now, was a different case.
Without further adieu, he started with their discussions. More like Rayyan showing his findings and reports to the two of them. For the rest of that time, Rabail mostly nodded her head, hummed, and kept her eyes strained on the papers spread on the tabletop. Zaroon, on the other hand, spoke at times and gave out some suggestions or remarks.
"That was rash of you," Zaroon pointed out as he took a sip of the coffee that was served to them.
"Well, desperate time, desperate measures, I guess," Rabail shrugged as she straightened her back to look at him. It reminded her of those times. Discussing at a corner of that campus library and cafes. Notes and laptops in between them as they let their tongue carry their thoughts. Deja vu crept up on her senses as she slowly pulled herself from those past times.
"Well, he sure was calling for it, if you ask me," Zaroon replied with a smirk. Though what she did was rash, it was the right decision as well. Shoaib did ask for it as he pulled that stunt in that meeting. That's what he liked about Rabail- quick but thoughtful.
