The morning air was cool, heavy with clouds but still no rain yet. The sky looked soft, like it had wrapped itself in a grey blanket.
Zavian slowly opened his eyes, a lazy smile already on his lips. For the first time in weeks, he had slept with peace, like the storms inside him had finally settled.
Last night’s confession echoed in his heart “Yes, I love you” His Mahi was finally his. Not in full, not yet in person but in words, in soul.
His phone buzzed on the side table.
He stretched out his arm, still half buried in his blanket, unlocked the screen.
"Good morning Mr. Cheesy"
A smile immediately spread across his face.
He chuckled, rubbing his eyes & typed back.
"Good morning Mrs. Cheesy"
Mahi sat by the window, the warm cup of chai between her hands, the steam rising gently in the cool, cloudy morning. Her hair was loosely tied & her eyes still carried the softness of sleep. As she scrolled through her phone & saw Zavian's message, a small smile came at her lips.
She quickly typed:
"Uth gaye ap?" (You’re awake?)
Back in Pakistan, Zavian still half laying in bed smiled at her text. His heart already felt lighter just reading her words.
He replied:
"Lg toh esa hi rha hai begum" (Seems like it, my wifey)
She squinted her eyes playfully & texted back:
"Roast mat kro mujhy Zavian Ubaid" (Don’t roast me, Zavian Ubaid)
He chuckled, his fingers moving softly across the screen as he replied:
"Meri majaal?" (Would I even dare?)
His tone was gentle, teasing even from miles away she felt it.
She read his message, a soft smile on her lips, she typed with gentle warmth,
"Dramaybaaz" (Drama king)
Zavian let out a soft laugh as he read it, imagining her rolling her eyes while smiling. He could almost hear her voice, see her expression.
He replied with warmth in his heart,
"I love you"
She texted back with a playful smirk on her face:
"I don't"
Right after sending it, she chuckled softly, already knowing what was coming.
Zavian smiled, shook his head a little & replied with a soft tease,
"Someone was saying last night that ‘Yes, I love you. I want you here with me’"
Her cheeks turned a little pink just reading it. She bit her lower lip, trying not to smile too wide.
She texted, pretending to be annoyed but her words carried a soft warmth.
"Apki yay adat mujhy zeher lgti hai, bht tung krty ho"
(This habit of yours feels like poison to me, you annoy me so much)
Zavian smiled & replied:
"Pr ap mujhy bht pyari lgti ho" (But I find you very lovely)
On the other side, Mahi blushed hard. Her cheeks warmed up & she quickly typed:
"Shut up Zavian"
He replied with a soft ache in his heart & love in his words:
"Haye yay blush, Jb sharmati ho na, I wanna grab your chin & kiss it softly. Ahh, this distance"
(This blush of yours, when you shy na, I just want to hold your chin & kiss it gently. Ahh this distance hurts)
Mahi smiled, hiding her face in her hands.
She typed with a deep blush on her face, cheeks warm as ever,
"Astaghfirullah Zavian Ubaid, Use some mouth filter"
Zavian laughed, knowing exactly what he was doing. He flirted boldly,
"Come"
Mahi's eyes widened as she read it, almost dying with shyness & his bold flirt,
"Shut up tharki insan"
(Shut up, you shameless man)
On the other side, Zavian burst into laughter, shaking his head as he typed,
"Yahi toh keh rha hun, make me"
(That’s what I’m saying, make me)
Mahi was blushing so much her fingers shaking on the keyboard. She bit her lip & barely managed to type:
"Jao chai piyo"
(Go drink your tea)
He replied almost teasingly,
"Allah phir sy akely? Sad loiff"
(Oh God, alone again? Such a sad life)
She smiled, shaking her head at his drama & replied:
"Bht urh rhy ho aap, tharki"
(You're flying too high, you shameless man)
He smiled softly & typed back:
"Bht zyada tharki"
(Extremely shameless)
She smirked & replied quickly:
"Ji woh toh nazar aa hi rha hai"
(Yes, that’s already very obvious)
He chuckled, eyes still on the screen & said:
"Okay bs, shower ly lu, chai pi lu, office jaun ga phir"
(Okay fine, I’ll just shower, have some tea & go to the office then)
The chat ended with a few soft texts & smiles from both ends. Zavian put his phone aside, stretching his arms. He headed towards the bathroom for a shower, feeling peaceful this morning.
He wanted comfort today mentally & physically. “Kurta shalwar ka mood hai aaj,” he murmured to himself. From his wardrobe, he picked his favorite black kurta shalwar, neatly ironed & ready.
After a warm, calming shower, he stepped out with damp hair, a towel around his neck & walked to the spot where he'd placed the black kurta but when he looked, It wasn’t there.
Instead, lying on the bed, in its place, was a lite green kurta, something he wouldn’t have chosen today.
He stared at it for a few seconds, then sighed heavily & mumbled under his breath,
“Oh God, Amma… why? Why do you do this?”
He already knew the answer.
He wore the lite green kurta & came out after getting ready, folding his sleeves as he walked toward the kitchen. Standing by the door, he said softly,
“Amma, apko pata hai na, mai chirhta hun in colorful kapron sy”
(Mom, you know I hate these colorful clothes)
His mother, busy making breakfast, didn’t even look up. She replied,
“Jb dekho kaala kaala, Zavian. Zindagi mei or b rung hain. Mai ne aaj tumhari wardrobe saaf kr deni hai, dekhna tum”
(You always wear black, Zavian. There are other colors in life too. Today, I'll your wardrobe, just wait & see)
He said with a little tease,
“Apny shohar ko b colorful pehnaya krein, unhein toh bara sober banati hain”
(You should dress your husband in colorful clothes too, you always makes him look very sober)
He immediately bit his tongue, realizing he just sparked the fire.
His mother looked at him sharply & said,
“Mai tumhein b rungeen kr skti hun”
(I can make you colorful too)
Zavian cleared his throat nervously, knowing he’d just added fuel to the fire,
& quickly said,
“Allah Hafiz”
He went to the office, attended meetings but kept looking at his phone. Between calls & discussions, he kept texting Mahi again & again
"I'm in a meeting now"
"I'm missing you"
"I love you"
"I want you, begum"
Every time he sent those messages, Mahi replied with a teasing smile in her texts, keeping the spark alive despite the distance.
Zavian finally wrapped up his work for the day, shutting his laptop with a tired but satisfied sigh. He stepped out of the office building & slid into his car, eager to head home. As he drove through the city, the sky was slowly transforming into a canvas of warm hues, soft oranges melting into gentle pinks, streaks of gold dancing among the clouds. The sunset wrapped the world in a calm, peaceful glow, as if the city was quietly saying goodbye to the day.
His car, a glossy & polished black, reflected the colors of the sky. The orange & pink shades kissed its shiny surface, making it sparkle like a jewel against the dark streets. The gentle hum of the engine blended with the atmosphere outside & for a moment, everything seemed perfectly still just the road ahead, the fading lights & his thoughts drifting softly with the evening breeze.
In that quiet, golden hour, the city felt different softer, almost like it was holding its breath & Zavian found himself lost in the beauty of the moment, even as his mind wandered to Mahi. The world outside was fading but his heart was bright with the hope of what was to come.
He moved his hand smoothly over the steering wheel, fingers brushing against the leather as he turned the car gently to the right. The tires whispered against the road & after just a short drive, it came into view, his house.
A tall, graceful white building stood silently ahead, its architecture simple yet elegant. The coned shaped roof gave it an old world charm, while the dark brown shade of the heavy iron gate added a sense of quiet strength. It wasn’t just a house, it was a place that held echoes of his childhood, his late night thoughts & now, the soft traces of Mahi’s voice in his head.
He pressed the car horn lightly, just once.
A moment later, the familiar sound of the gate creaking open greeted him. The guard gave a slight nod as he pulled the black car into the driveway. The gravel crunched gently under the tires as the sun dipped a little lower behind him, casting long, golden shadows across the front yard.
He parked the car, engine quieting into silence & there it was that moment of pause before stepping back into home, into family, into another evening filled with thoughts of her.
He stepped into the house with the quiet familiarity of someone who had done it a thousand times shoulder slightly tired from the day but a gentle smile on his lips as he greeted everyone, climbed the stairs to his room.
As he entered, he loosened the sleeves of his kurta & ran a hand through his hair, still faintly smelling of sun. The room welcomed him like always simple, organized, his quiet little world. He walked to the wardrobe, casually, expecting nothing more than a clean set of clothes to wear.
But the moment he pulled open the wardrobe doors, he froze.
Two sections stared back at him.
On the left, everything was as it should be neatly arranged in shades of navy, white, grey, brown, & of course, endless black. His safe zone. The colors of calm, of routine, of identity.
But it was the right section that made his heart pause mid beat.
Purple. Green. Sky blue. Mustard shades
Shades that didn’t belong to him. Shades that screamed mischief, amma ki marzi.
His mind left his body for a second.
He blinked once. Then again.
He looked behind him, as if expecting someone to jump out & shout, “Surprise” but there was no one. Only the chirping of birds from his window & the gentle hum of the ceiling fan above.
He ran a hand down his face & murmured under his breath,
“Ya Allah, yay kya kr diya amma ny”
Zavian sighed deeply the kind of sigh that carried the weight of defeat & pulled out a simple white kurta from the side of the wardrobe that still felt like his. He freshened up, changed into it, & gave himself a final look in the mirror before heading down.
The smell of food floated in the air as he entered the dining room. His family was already there, his mother sitting at the head of the table, proud & calm & his sisters giggling about something he knew was definitely at his expense.
He pulled out a chair & sat down with the quiet energy of a man who had seen things. As he began putting food in his plate, he looked at his mother & said with frustration,
“Amma, kya kiya hai yar apny”
(Mom, what have you done)
His sisters burst out laughing, one nearly choking on her bite & the other fanning her face dramatically.
He glanced at them, completely done & said,
“Haha, bht hasi aa rahi hai na?”
(Haha, you’re finding it so funny, right?)
His mother chuckled, calm & victorious,
“Zindagi mei rung hony chahiye, sirf kapron mei nahi, dil mei b”
(There should be color in life not just in clothes but in your heart too)
Zavian rolled his eyes playfully & murmured,
“Apko toh Nobel prize milna chahiye philosophy ka”
(You deserve a Nobel prize in philosophy)
But deep inside, he couldn’t help but smile. Even if they were driving him crazy with colors, this chaos felt like home.
On the other side of the border, in that quiet little house with pastel walls & warmth floating through the air, Mahi sat cross legged on the chair beside her father.
She was the only daughter, she was her father’s little queen. The bond between them was soft, unspoken & deep rooted like old tree roots beneath still earth.
Her mother was at the other end of the table, fighting with her father over how much salt was in the curry.
“Apko toh har dfa complaint hoti hai” her mother said with narrowed eyes.
(You always have some complaint)
Her father smiled,
“Nai toh, ap toh MasterChef ho, mai toh bs taang khench rha tha”
(Not at all, you’re a MasterChef, I was just pulling your leg)
The entire room filled with laughter. Mahi, watching them with affection, laughed heartily while her younger brother tried to mimic their father’s expression. Her other brother rolled his eyes playfully.
In that moment, everything felt light. No worries about the world outside, no echoes of love’s confusion just her family, the smell of food in the air & the warm clatter of spoons against the plates.
And somewhere, silently, her heart whispered Zavian’s name.
Her mother said, half playful, half concerned.
"Your daughter is always buried in her phone these days. If this continues, she’ll slip out of our hands"
Mahi’s smile faded instantly. The laughter that had lit up her face just a moment ago disappeared like a blown out candle. Her hand froze mid bite, eyes briefly lowering to her plate.
Before she could say anything, her father looked at her, calm & gentle & placed his hand on her head softly. There was trust in that touch, a quiet assurance that only a father’s heart can carry.
He smiled, not at her mother’s concern but at his daughter’s shaken expression.
"My daughter won’t break our trust"
And just like that something inside Mahi cracked.
The guilt of love, the love that was hidden & unspoken pressed softly against her ribs.
She nodded faintly, forcing a smile.
"Yes, Baba"
But inside, she whispered to herself:
"How do I love him without breaking you?"
Mahi quietly excused herself from the dinner table, slipping away before anyone could read the storm in her eyes. She climbed up to her room with slow, heavy steps, each one echoing the weight in her chest. The moment she shut the door, she let out a soft sigh, like someone who’d been holding in too much for too long.
She sat on her bed, picked up her phone & there it was.
Zavian's message,
“Mahi? Are you okay? Why aren’t you replying?”
Her heart softened.
He had messaged her again & again. Short, worried texts, each more restless than the last.
She gently typed back,
“I’m okay, Zavian. Just having a migraine can’t talk much”
Zavian replied almost instantly, concern:
“Rest, Chanda. Please. Migraine isn’t something to take lightly. I’m here, always. Bs araam kro please”
(Just take care of yourself please)
Mahi stared at the screen for a moment, her eyes hurting not from the migraine she mentioned but from the ache in her heart.
She wanted to tell him. About the dinner table. About the unspoken war between her love & her loyalty. About the way her father’s words touched her soul like a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep.
But instead, she typed one last message:
“I’m going to sleep now. Good night”
She lied.
She didn’t sleep. She just laid down, hugged her pillow & stared at the ceiling. Zavian, on the other hand, placed his phone aside after reading her message. His mind was still uneasy, but he believed her.
“Good night, Mahi. Take care. I love you”
Zavian sat on his bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of his laptop screen. Outside, the night had settled completely quiet, still, with nothing but the faint hum of the ceiling fan & the ticking of the wall clock filling the silence. His white kurta was slightly wrinkled now, sleeves lazily rolled up.
In one hand, a warm mug of bitter coffee. His eyes stared at the laptop but his mind wasn’t there.
It was with her, with Mahi.
He’d shift his eyes to the phone beside him. Her last message still there
“I’m going to sleep now. Good night”
But something about it didn’t sit right.
He took a deep breath, sipped the coffee it tasted just like tonight heavy & bitter.
He opened a spreadsheet on the screen, started working, numbers & reports flashing in front of him but it all looked the same. His fingers moved on the keyboard but his thoughts were lost somewhere in her voice, her laugh, her fading replies.
Unable to hold it in, he finally reached out, grabbed his phone & without giving it another thought, he dialed his father’s number.
As it started ringing, the laptop light across his tired face. His eyes were shadowed, voice low when the call was answered.
And in that quiet, half lit room, filled only with soft breaths & the scent of coffee, he blurred into the darkness...
The next morning arrived gently, the sound of soft rain tapping against windows & the scent of fresh soil rising from both sides of the border. The monsoon had painted the skies a deep grey, clouds hanging low like quiet poetry & the world felt slower, softer.
Zavian woke up to the sound of raindrops sliding down his windows. He stretched, rubbed his eyes & reached for his phone. The first thing on his mind, Mahi.
He typed quickly, still half asleep but fully concerned.
"How’s your migraine, Chanda?"
The message was simple but carried all the weight of his care.
On the other side, Mahi sat curled near her bedroom window, holding a warm cup of chai. Her eyes were sleepy but calm, the rain dancing outside just like it was in his city. Her phone buzzed softly. She saw his name flash across the screen & a faint smile came onto her lips.
She typed back gently:
"I'm okay now, Zavian"
Mahi sat on her bed, fingers gently circling the rim of her teacup. The question had been sitting in her chest for days, heavy like the monsoon clouds outside. She finally typed it, slowly, as if each word could shift the balance of everything between them.
"Zavian, agr baba nai many toh?"
(Zavian, what if my father doesn't agree?)
Zavian was sitting near his window, rain misting the glass. Her message came & he paused. He read it twice, then once more. A soft, steady smile curved his lips. He didn’t want her to worry, not about this.
He replied:
"Mahi, mai unko mana lu ga"
(Mahi, I’ll convince him)
But on the other side, Mahi still felt upset inside. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard. After a moment, she typed again:
"Zavian, agr phr b nai many?"
(Zavian, what if he still doesn’t agree?)
Zavian stared at her message, the weight of her fear pressing against his chest. He sighed softly,
"Esy kesy nai manein gy?"
(How can he not agree?)
"I’ll beg him or" he paused, then typed again
"Or agr us k baad b nai many toh uthwa lu ga tumhein"
(And if he still doesn’t agree I’ll just kidnap you)
He hit send & smiled to himself, imagining her wide eyed reaction on the other side of the screen.
On the other side, Mahi's eyes widened as she stared at his message.
"Kuch nai kr skty tum"
(You can't do anything)
She typed it with a mix of teasing & challenge, not knowing her words would hit deeper.
Zavian read her message, a small smirk playing on his lips but there was something else in his heart. Something heavier. Something truer. He wasn’t just flirting anymore. He paused for a moment, then typed slowly, meaning every single word:
"Agr mai chahun..."
(If I want to...)
"Toh tumhein abi isi waqt apny paas la skta hun"
(I can bring you to me right now)
He sent it.
It wasn’t just about borders or distance anymore. It was about how far he'd go emotionally, physically, endlessly for her.
She stared at his message, fingers frozen over the keyboard, heart slow & full.
Her question was innocent, almost childlike
"Then why are you worried about my father's decision?"
But Zavian’s reply came with a softness that melted something deep inside her. Not just words. Love that wasn’t selfish.
"Mahi, I love you & for me, your pride & your parents pride is far more important than my love for you"
"I can't disrespect you or them"
"I want you with all the respect you deserve"
He wasn't just trying to win her. He was protecting her dignity, her name, her home even if it hurt his heart a little more & in that moment, Mahi realized this wasn’t just love.
This was home trying to hold her with both hands
She typed slowly, fingers hesitant. Softly, gently, she wrote the words
"I love you, Zavian"
Zavian paused as the message popped on his screen.
A small smile formed at the corner of his lips, eyes softening. His heart did that little skip again the kind that only happened when she said it first.
He typed back, almost in a whisper through the screen,
"I love you more, Chanda"
And in that moment, everything felt calm again.
Just the way love is supposed to feel sure, soft & safe...
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for the next part...📚🤍
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