thirteen

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❝Ae kithon tapak peya?!❞

“Sir, I'd really suggest— ” 

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“Sir, I'd really suggest— ” 

“Let go of my shirt!” Rabeel's screeching voice cut off the jeweler's sentence as she burned holes in Aayan through her glare directed at his face. After she'd recovered from the fall, she'd wasted zero time in jumping on her feet and tackling the super rude man into the glass shelves behind. 

Aayan was ready for her this time but his back still collided with the glass surface with the sheer force of her push and they both ended up in a hand to hand combat; dodging and throwing punches at each other before both of them got tangled up in the current position they were in; with Aayan's hand bunching the front hem of her shirt in a grip so tight that if he pulled it even the slightest, it would tear up. While Rabeel… 

Meray baal chorro, churail!” Aayan shot back with a growl before letting out a yelp as the redhead pulled his front hair. 

(Let go of my hair, you witch!)

She was in the position to make the (not so) poor guy bald. 

Tumharay andar sharam naam ki cheez hai?!” she yelled out. “Who the hell treats a woman like this?!” 

(Do you have even an ounce of shame?!)

“Equality, your highness!” he yelled right back at her, making Rabeel let out a loud scoff. 

“Who let you pass the crib? Bachpan mein sar phoota hota tou aj thorry normal hoty.” 

(If you had gotten a head injury in childhood, you would have been a bit normal today.)

“You— ” Aayan tugged on her shirt in pure anger and Rabeel returned the gesture to his hair, making him yelp for the thousandth time. 

“I've had enough!” the jeweler bellowed and finally caught their attention as both of them realised that they were not the only ones in the store. A slight sense of shame washed over Aayan and he looked back down at his hand clutching the redhead's shirt and he immediately let go. 

What the fück was he thinking?! His mother would be so disappointed. 

But when Rabeel still didn't let go of his hair and kicked his shin, he realised why he'd gone all gorilla in the first place; this woman had brought the worst out of him.

“Ow!” he cried. “I'm no longer grabbing your shirt, idiot!” 

Rabeel wanted to land more kicks and punches at him but controlled herself and let go of his hair before taking some steps back. Aayan could feel the painful tingles at the roots of his hair and threw her a murderous look while rubbing the front of his head. Both of them were covered in scratch marks on their faces due to the fight and Aayan had ended up with a rather long cut on his left cheekbone. 

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