Do You Loathe Me Enough?

Chapter 10

Wajiha

I looked at myself in the mirror and felt a rush of satisfaction within me. Last night, Azlaan had informed me that his friends would be visiting us. I had met his friends at the wedding, but it had been a formal encounter. Now that they were coming for dinner, I knew I'd have to engage in more conversation.

I donned an emerald kurta with a V-neck and delicate patches of golden embroidery, along with matching trousers and a dupatta. I let my curly hair out because I think it looks best that way.

Suddenly, the door clicked open, instantly grabbing my attention. I turned to see Azlaan emerging from the wardrobe. If it were possible to be choked by the air, that moment would have accomplished it.

Azlaan appeared strikingly handsome in his black button-down shirt and pants, his sleeves rolled up. It marked the first time I'd seen him in such a manner, and the sight of those sinewy, veined arms ignited a storm of sensations within me. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him; it felt like Vein porn. Ugh. Don't dwell on it, Wajiha.

Our eyes locked, and thankfully, he seemed oblivious to the electric charge that coursed through me.

He ran his eyes over me, his gaze lingering too long on my curves, sending goosebumps racing across my skin. However, his eyes remained devoid of any emotions. But his glare was enough to make my heartbeat irregular.

"Are you done checking me out, Mr. Saeed?" I teased him.
He met my gaze and shook his head slightly. "No, never."

There was something in the depth of his voice that caught me off guard. So, I turned my back and resumed applying my makeup. I stood before the mirror, too apprehensive to meet his eyes, and busied myself with the task.

I felt his footsteps approaching, and I caught sight of him in the mirror's reflection. Our eyes locked briefly in the mirror, and then he looked away. He drew closer, pausing mere inches behind me. His body's heat radiated against mine.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, his voice sending shivers down my spine as I struggled to remove the jhumka from the jewelry set.

"I'm trying to put this on," I replied, showing him the exquisite jhumka that perfectly matched my dress. His eyes locked onto the jewelry as I held it in my trembling hands.

"Let me help you," he demanded, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

Without a moment's hesitation, I surrendered the jhumka to him. He positioned himself closely behind me, and as his hands delicately reached my ears, an electric current shot through my body. His touch caressed my neck, leaving me quivering. He sensed my response and withdrew his hands momentarily before skillfully securing the jhumka in my ear, locking it in place. Our eyes met in the mirror's reflection, and I could feel his warm breath on my skin.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart."
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"No, no. I'm serious," Ibrahim raised his hands in defense, prompting a groan from Asad. It had been two hours since everyone had arrived.

Ibrahim is exceptionally handsome, sharing the same hair color as his cousin, Azlaan. Ibrahim's fiancée, Arisha, is a vivacious and strong-willed young woman. We both share a keen interest in books.

Asad and Alyna, on the other hand, are the sweetest people. Asad possesses brown hair and brown eyes, and his friendship with Azlaan is undeniably unique. They exchange jokes, and what's even more remarkable is that Azlaan harbors no ill feelings toward them. Azlaan doesn't laugh often, but there's a soft spot for Asad.

Alyna is an incredibly beautiful woman; she works as a lawyer, showcasing her intellectual prowess, and her hazel eyes are utterly captivating.

"You're never serious," Asad mocked, "I'm still confused about how you survive in this field." They were arguing about a politician. Asad believed the said politician was a good man and likely to become the next Prime Minister of the country, while Ibrahim supported a young party owner, Hassam.