Lut Gaye || لٹ گۓ

ELEVEN | Lost and Found

"aazma le mujhko yaara, tu zara sa kar ishara."

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INKY eyes cracked open against the golden rays of the sun.

Zain awoke from his little zizz, uncurling his arms and holding out his palm to block the dazzling rays that made him squint.

Leaping to his feet, he threw his head back and stretched his arms as the crispy air filled his lungs, rejuvenating his senses.

Zain loved December mornings.

Basking in the winter sun with his eyes closed as the sweet sting of cold air kissed his skin and the glorious feeling of apricity covering him―nothing could be better than that.

He relished in the burning cold and waking up early today had provided him the perfect chance to do so. After taking a shower, he had slipped into the balcony and hadn't realized when he dozed off while soaking up the sun.

Gratified, he strolled forward but the moment he entered into the lounge, his eyes fell on the the slumbering form of Iman plowed on the chair before him; her hand resting against the surface of the table and her head leant over it.

A smile swam on his lips as he took a few hushed steps forward―wondering how she ended up there―until his frame was stationed close to her.

Placing his left hand at the table, he bent lower as he let his gaze ski over her delicate features. Her hair was tied but a disobedient tendril had managed to escape and was wavering across her cheek.

His hand automatically reached out to her and before he knew, he was stroking it out of her her face―tucking it behind her ear softly.

His hand lingered there as he absorbed the unobscured view; her folded eyelids protected by those sooty wings of her lashes contrasting beautifully against her champagne skin, and the look of content painted on her face.

What was she dreaming of looking like a dream herself?

The thought aroused a tingling rhythm in his heart as he kept peering at her in a heady trance. Seconds prolonged and his surroundings slowly started to dim; the chirping of birds waned into silence, the dewy scent of morning air evaporated and he completely got lost into another world.

A world where it was just him and her. Where the only sound was of her steady breathing and his thumping heartbeat; where the only smell that lingered in the air was the charming floral scent she exuded.

And right then, he was compelled to confess that there was something better than the feeling of apricity.

Iman.

This moment.

He could forever bask in her presence.

His hand was still frozen close to the wisp of hair he had secured behind her ear and it ached to glide across her skin. Could he...

No. No! He shut his eyes tightly.

And the moment subsided as he unfolded his eyes and slumped back into the reality, rolling his fingers into a ball of freaking restraint for the hundredth time and lightly smacking his forehead with his curled fist.

But then, his eyes noticed a fallen eyelash on her cheek. He caged his lower lip between his teeth as his treacherous hand rolled forward and he tenderly removed it from her cheek---his fingers brushing her skin for a fleeting second before his hand retreated.