🍂Husn-e-Ishq🍂

Fiza |2|

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There were many guests and visitors who gathered in Manali to spend their holidays but the lights of Humayun palace had other heights of glory. The night seemed to be wearing peace and exhibiting joy in every shade it could.

Fiza was sitting at the dining table that was privately reserved for her family - she and her father.

The table had 12 chairs ten of which were vacant and ridiculously there were altogether ten attendants who were carrying out dining of the father-daughter duo.

Zawaar was one of them.

Fiza was eating without keeping quiet and her father enjoyed her talks. Helpers also liked the way she opened up about the British culture at London. Although she was all about English manners but her ways were undoubtedly garnished with saffron hue of Indianism.

Zawaar, as always, didn't fail to observe this beauty of Fiza.

He couldn't take his eyes off her face when she giggled whispering something into her father's ears. As if he heard it all and that also before anyone could hear it.

Assumptions of sicks in fantasies of infatuation have big doors. Zawaar's world was crossing that limit each time he took a glimpse of her.

"Zawaar, join me here after papa is over?" asked Fiza chewing a piece of roasted turkey.

Surprised by her invitation, he looked at his master, Deewaan, who also gave an easy allowance to him, "you can join her Zawaar. This place is deficient in containing people of her age and understanding."

"Okay, Maalik," he spoke softly watching other attendants escorting Aariz Ali to his respective room.

Fiza whistled at him bringing his attention back to her making him speechless at her gesture and slowly-slowly he too moved towards the table, sitting on the chair that was opposite to her.

She asked him, "why in the palace you're horrified?"

"Horrified? No begum, I'm completely comfortable here."

"Oh, so you've even started feeling comfortable in front of me..."

"Uff, no... I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I meant I'm not horrified as you're thinking. "

"So, my thinking is at fault according to you?"

"No, begum, not at all!" Zawaar defended with patience but could not suppress her showers of questions.

"Oh so now you're flattering me by denying this?"

"Did I exactly say that?" spoke Zawaar in a stern tone now.

"Now you're cross questioning me?" she raised her pitch this time and Zawaar immediately got up from the table and left the spot without taking her permission and also without turning back.

While Fiza was laughing with all her veins alive. She had indeedly enjoyed leg-pulling Zawaar to the verge he frowned in front of her.

His frown is a heavenly killer, she gave him a silent compliment.

This was not something new for her. Fiza had always enjoyed teasing Zawaar from the time she knew of him as an 11-year old lad working at her father's resort.