Lut Gaye || لٹ گۓ

TWENTY EIGHT | In Your Arms (Part One)

"teri nazron ne kuch aisa jadoo kiya."

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RHYTHM of her heartbeat was still unsteady.

Sat in the warm and alight living room of the Awan residence, Iman was surrounded by the three members of the family settled on either side of her, looking at her with a mixture of concern and relief as she narrated the terrible event that had transpired.

Zain wasn't present among them.

After gunning down the thieves and saving her life, he had called his subordinates and ordered them to show up immediately. In a span of ten minutes, the spot had turned into a crime scene she had only seen in movies; with blaring sirens of police vehicles, uniformed law enforcers surrounding and restricting the area, and paramedics carrying bleeding bodies on the stretcher towards the ambulance.

It made her head pound all the more.

Thankfully, Zain drove her back home but before he could even sit down and catch a breath, he received a call from his subordinate and he immediately turned on his heels. Urgent, he had said, I'll be back very soon, and then left her with the family.

"Oh thank god you're okay, Iman," her mother-in-law, seated right next to her, first expressed her relief and then remonstration; "But Zain shouldn't have taken you out so late at night. He's aware how his police force is still struggling to curb street crimes in the city."

"Cmon, Mama! Raat mein hee toh ghoomnay ka maza hai," Zunyra piped in, leaning back into the couch she was perched on with her legs crossed.

But the moment she received a glare from her mother, stern and sharp enough to slice her tongue, she quickly straightened her spine and cleared her throat―warbling out;

"I-I mean that bhabhi is unharmed and those thieves are probably dead so it's uh... its all good."

"Still, she was held on gun point. It must've been terrifying," Arsal spoke in a softer, more prudent tone, sparing a sympathetic glance to Iman before looking back to his cousin.

"Yeah but didn't she just tell how bhaiyya shot them down in one go?" Zunyra reminded with a proud shine in her eyes. "Sharpshooter of SIU was with her."

"We all are glad for that," Arsal assured her and then with a flat face, he mumbled; "Also, Zuny, can you please do us all a favour and go wash your face?"

He stared at the thick green paste plastered on her face, biting the inside of his cheeks to contain the bubble of laughter surging in his throat. It was so hard to have a serious conversation when she was sitting among them with that thing on her face.

"Are you kidding me?" The brunette shot him a pointed look. "I just put on this youth renewal kiwi mask, I can't wash it off before twenty minutes at least!"

"Fine then keep looking like a clown," said Arsal with a shrug.

"I'm looking at one right now." Zunyra eyeballed him.

"Strange because I'm not holding a mirror."

Gnashing her teeth, she howled, "Arsal kay bach-"

"Zunyra! Arsal!" cut in Fatma Awan with a rumble, looking daggers at the duo. "Is this the time to bicker?"

"Sorry." They both apologized in unison and clamped their mouths shut afterwards.