— 𖤐 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 :
Am I possessed? Possibly.
Did she ask that stupid manager of the restaurant where we had breakfast this morning to add something to my coffee?
How did I, in my right mind, ended up inviting the problem to my house?
The words seemed to escape my mouth before I even realized it.
Maybe it was the way she rushed towards me in the parking lot, looking utterly devastated, and then how she cried like a baby.
The tears were real, unlike the theatrical act she put on yesterday, the look in her eyes made it clear.
Her tear-streaked face stirred something in my chest. It wasn't pity, not even close. I felt a fiery anger rising within me, a strong desire to fucking destroy whoever had caused her tears.
The idiotic grin suited her better, not the tears.
I can't comprehend this strange foreign feeling of wanting to protect her.
This girl is beyond infuriating.
For fuck sake, I only met her yesterday and I've never felt this tangled up in anything as much as I'm in her chaos.
I can't for the life of me figure out why I couldn't just drive away from the airport.
I had this nagging feeling that something was wrong and the fact that she didn't have her passport had me on edge.
What in the fucking world is happening to me?
Why couldn't I just leave?
Just when I was thinking why I was so concerned about her, I found her phone in the car—a reason for me to turn back to the airport and I hadn't even left the airport premises in the first place.
I might need to schedule a check-up for myself because I'm clearly not fine.
My head feels like it's about to explode and
the girl sitting beside me in the passenger seat is casually munching on her fucking dark chocolate.
As if she hadn't just hugged me.
That damn hug.
I should have pushed her away the moment she wrapped her arms around my neck, but I froze, like a fucking idiot and my heart decided that was the perfect time to go haywire, as it thundered so loudly as if I'm about to have a stroke or something.
She quickly pulled away from the hug, and a delicate pink painted her pale cheekbones, highlighting her soft tiny freckles.
And I hated myself for observing so much.
Even now as she eats her dark chocolate, I could tell that she's feigning nonchalance, her cheeks are still a deep shade of pink, and her hands are slightly trembling around the wrapper.
She keeps stealing glances at me when she thinks I'm not watching.
I've never paid such close attention to anyone before, especially not like this.
I rarely allow anyone close to me, let alone fucking hug me, except for my family, as I consider myself untouchable.
I usually ward off people with a cold stare, keeping them at least 10 feet away, because they all are same—fucking loud and annoying.
But this woman seems to be an exception, doesn't she?
My inner voice mocks me, but I quickly shut it.
It's almost evening now, and I can't fucking believe I spent the whole day fixated on someone for the first time in ages.
This woman is making me act in ways I don't like.
The whole ride goes by in total silence, and I'm grateful that Miss Chatty didn't start her usual chatter.
As soon as I reach my house, I don't wait for her and dash inside, going straight for my room.
I need to keep some distance from that weirdo before I turn completely insane like her.
Earlier I texted Miss Edward, my secretary, that I wouldn't make it to the office because I sensed that it was going to be a long day.
Rushing into my walk-in wardrobe, I take out my casual clothes—long sleeved white t-shirt with trousers.
I plan on taking a long relaxing shower and then working on my laptop the whole night.
As I make my way towards the bathroom, something rustles in the corner of my room.
My hamster.
The only pet I've ever had, has brown and white fur.
He's in a large steel cage with funny toys and small tunnels.
The only thing that makes me smile sometimes.
He jumps with joy when he sees me. I approach the cage, opening it and gently retrieve my fluffy hamster, I stroke its fur, feeling a warmth spread through me as the corners of my mouth lift in a subtle grin.
After a moment of petting, I place it back in the cage and head into the shower.
After a relaxing shower, I slipped into my clothes and while I was doing so I could hear some faint noise of...giggles from outside?
Rubbing the backside of my head with the towel, I made my way out of the bathroom.
I come to an abrupt halt as the sound of laughter grew clearer.
There, in front of me stands Miss Ivanov inside my room.
Her whole face is lit up with a radiant smile and her eyes—they are sparkling like crazy.
She's gently stroking my hamster in her hands and giggling with pure joy.
The sight before me stir a strange sensation in my chest.
For the first time, the sound is not annoying me, if anything it's sort of...soothing?
What the fuck?
I clear my throat, and she raises her head from the hamster, looking at me.
"Mr Malik." She fucking beams at me so brightly, my heart—who's clearly not in its right mindset—roars in my ears.
Shut it, heart. I need to get you checked soon.
Clearing my throat again, I move closer to her.
"You didn't mention you had a hamster as a pet? especially the one that looks exactly like my Milky Brownie!!!" She strokes the hamster's fur, smiling down at him.
"Milky Brownie?" I frown.
"Ah, yes. You know I had a hamster named Milky Brownie when I was a kid, I was a Hamster Momma." She grins, her eyes shimmering.
"It looked just like this one. I loved it so dearly, I used to take it everywhere I go but it died in a brutal accident." Her tone shifts to complete sadness and her chin trembles by the end of the sentence.
"You had the same hamster?"
"Yess, Milky brownie." Her grin is back again.
No. It can't be...right?
There are many hamsters out there that look similar.
Yess, it's just a mere coincidence.
I brush off the thoughts invading my mind immediately.
"Why are you in my room? And do you even lack basic manners of knocking? I told you that you have to follow my rules-" She interrupts me.
"Ugh, Antarctica, can you like not ruin my good mood? I knocked, but you didn't answer, so I came in and found this adorable creature. Let me play with milky brownie for a bit?"
"Firstly it's my hamster not your milky brownie and secondly who the fuck names a hamster milky brownie? Why do you have this weird fixation on food?" I grumble.
"Don't be jealous of my creativity. Food is everything to me, you got any problems with that?"
"Why are you here? If it's for your usual nonsense chatting, you're not welcome, get out."
"Jeez, I just wanted to borrow some of Zara's clothes."
"There aren't any of Zara's clothes here. My family has a separate mansion in the city, and no one really visits here. You didn't bring your own clothes?"
"Duh, genius, I can't possibly run with a damn suitcase, now can I?"
I give her a look and she clears her throat.
"Can I borrow your clothes then?"
"No."
"Please, just look at me, I'm in dirty clothes.
Do you want me to mess up your bed by sleeping in them?"
I take in her look. She's still wearing my oversized suit jacket which has engulfed her whole form and is now slightly dusty accompanied by her dusty jeans.
"Fine." I reluctantly agree.
"Wait here, I'll find something that fits you." I head into my walk-in wardrobe.
I pick a simple, full-sleeved black t-shirt and a pair of trousers that no longer fit me.
Stepping out of the wardrobe, my eyes catch her running around the room.
"Oh my god, Milky, please stop baby! Antarctica will have my head if I lose you." She's frantically running after my hamster who's easily escaping her grasp.
"Oh fuck." I place the clothes on the nearby table and swiftly join her, chasing after the hamster.
"Mr. Malik, I was just playing, and he suddenly hopped—"
"Shut up and just help me catch him."
The hamster climbs onto the bed, settling in the middle and emitting tiny squeaks.
I find myself on one side of the bed, opposite is Miss Ivanov.
She shoots me a knowing look, acting like some stupid secret agent on mission and silently suggesting we capture him together.
I don't know why the fuck I listen to her and leap next second towards the bed.
In perfect timing, Miss Ivanov also jumps, and at the exact moment, the hamster escapes from the bed, causing my head to collide with hers as we both land on the mattress.
"Ouch." she winces.
"What a brilliant idea, Miss Ivanov."
She massages the side of her head, shooting me a glare.
Suddenly, I find myself captivated by every delicate features of hers.
Her eyes, a mesmerizing dark hazel brown, hold a depth that draws me in without my consent.
The subtle elegance of her small silver nose ring, the faint sprinkle of freckles adorning her skin, the tiny mole gracing the edge of her chin, and her lips, a luscious shade of pinkish plum, which looks velvety.
Our faces hover mere inches apart, her warm breath grazing my skin.
My eyes are fixed on her lips unknowingly, I look up only to see her gaze doing the same.
My fucking heart goes out of control again.
A rustle by my leg snaps me back to reality from whatever haze had enveloped me.
I immediately rise to my feet, swiftly scooping up my hamster and gently placing it back in its cage.
In my peripheral vision, I catch her flushed self getting up and fixing hair hurriedly.
Without uttering a word, I hold out the clothes to her.
"Thank...thank you." she stammers before quickly disappearing from my room almost like running away.
Clearing my throat, I stride towards the kitchen to prepare dinner.
— ☆
I place the bowl of hot, steamy chicken soup in front of her on the table.
She's been unusually quiet since she came down from upstairs, clad in my clothes that envelop her entirely. The sleeves are folded halfway, while her glistening damp hair clings to her cheeks and neck, framing her face, which appears fresher than ever.
She avoids meeting my gaze and quietly picks up her spoon.
Surprisingly, she doesn't make a face at the soup as I expected, unlike her dramatic outburst over the salad yesterday.
Whatever, that's a relief for me anyway.
I settle into my seat with my own bowl of soup, but my attention is drawn back to her.
I observe her lean forward slightly, holding her damp hair back as she eagerly takes a spoonful of soup, not even bothering to blow on it.
"Ahhhh," she hisses, dropping the spoon back into the bowl.
"Fuck, are you a toddler? Who drinks hot soup without even blowing on it first?"
Without hesitation, I quickly rise from my seat, fetch the jug, fill a glass with water, and hand it to her.
She sips the water with her gaze fixed on me through the glass the entire time.
It's then that I notice the red scratches on the heel of her palm, with dried blood marking her pale skin.
I don't like it. I don't like the idea of her being hurt in anyway.
My jaw clenches involuntarily.
Why does her slightest discomfort affect me so fucking much?
Reluctantly, I make my way to the living room, retrieving the first aid box and setting it down before her with a firm thud.
"Take a moment to blow on the soup before you drink, and once you finish, treat the cuts on your palm, Neglecting them could lead to infection, and I don't want you to later cry on them like a baby."
She furrows her brow, studying her palm as if she didn't even realise that she had cuts on her palm in the first place.
"I don't cry like a baby." She narrows her eyes at me and I let out a scoff.
"I'll be doing the dishes." I turn around and make my way towards the kitchen which is adjacent to the dinning room.
"Wait! What about you? You're not going to eat?" she asks, halting me in my tracks.
"I usually don't have much of an appetite at night."
"Then let me help you do the dishes—"
"It's fine. I want them safe and unbroken you know." She scowls at me and the corner of my lips lift up slightly but I immediately mask it, heading into the kitchen.
Returning after a while, I find her struggling to apply antiseptic with a cotton bud to her right palm using her left hand.
She is still seated on her chair and frustration is very much evident in her every movement.
I shake my head and approach her.
"Here, let me do it."
"It's fine, I can manage."
Ignoring her protest, I snatch the cotton bud from her hand, and grasp her palm in my other hand.
I directly apply the bud to her cuts and a
sharp intake of breath escapes her, causing her to tightly shut her eyes.
Out of nowhere, I start blowing on her wounds surprising both of us as she flutter open her eyes.
I feel her gaze fixed upon my face the entire time I clean the cuts.
When I finally glance up, our eyes meet instantly.
I quickly slap a bandage over the cuts, clearing my throat awkwardly.
"I see, you can actually be nice huh? You just choose not to." She wiggles her eyebrows, grinning like an idiot she is.
"I'm anything but nice." I groan.
"And give me break, I never had such a long hectic day, even with my usual workday routine. Contact your loyal gloomy or whatever guard and tell him to bring your passport soon so that you can just get lost already." I blurt out abruptly, before swiftly retreating upstairs, not giving her a chance to respond.
However, I catch her muttering a 'A grade Asshole' under her breath.
✧———————-——✧
Thank you for reading<3 Drop a comment and vote, it motivates me to write further.
Zara already said that her brother is a sweetheart, but no one believed the poor girl shakes head
Zayran turning softy already? There's so many personalities of zayran you'll see further.
BTW how are you liking the story so far? Also they are my Hamster couple 😭🫶🏻
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