Hospital Room – Midday
Soft daylight drifted through the hospital curtains, scattering across the room like dust-kissed stars. The air smelled of antiseptic and warm cotton. Inaya lay half-reclined on her pillows, scrolling through her phone though her head wasn't fully in it. The dull ache beneath her bandage pulsed with every small movement.
A knock sounded.
"Yes? You can come in."
The door opened, and a familiar smile flashed before the man even stepped fully inside.
"Here arrives your lunch!" Danish declared enthusiastically, lifting a tiffin as though announcing treasure.
Inaya squinted.
"Wait… I've seen you somewhere before."
He chuckled.
"Meher's friend from Scotland — the party?"
Recognition slowly warmed her face.
"Oh, right… now I remember." She frowned lightly. "But why did you bring lunch?"
He straightened theatrically.
"Because your dear friend asked me to. And refusing Meher? Impossible."
A tiny smile curved Inaya's lips.
"That's sweet. But I don't feel like eating. Just leave it — I'll eat later."
Danish shook his head.
"No chance. Meher's given strict orders — I can't leave till you finish it."
Inaya pouted.
"But I'm not hungry…"
"Sorry, no excuses."
He said it breezily, tapping the spoon lightly against the tiffin.
The moment he opened it, rich, warm aromas filled the sterile room — spices, ghee, soft rice.
"Made by Meher's mom," he announced. "I heard you love her cooking."
Inaya smiled weakly.
"I don't feel like eating anything right now… whether it's Zehra aunty's food or a five-star chef's."
"Still no excuses."
He lifted a spoon toward her — just as the door swung open.
Faqair stepped inside holding a bouquet, his expression freezing at the scene.
"Faqair!" Inaya's face brightened instantly. "You're here?"
His smile was soft and familiar.
"Yeah. Had no work today, so I thought I'd check on you. Didn't want you getting bored."
Danish chimed in dramatically.
"How could she be bored? She's Meher's friend — which makes her my friend too."
Inaya chuckled.
"He's a bit too talkative… completely opposite of Meher—"
Before she finished, Danish popped the spoonful into her mouth.
She blinked.
"What?"
"It's tasty, right?" he said proudly.
Faqair's expression darkened just enough to be noticeable.
"She's hurt on her head, not her hands," he said quietly but firmly. "She can eat on her own."
Danish let out an exaggerated gasp, brows lifting as if personally offended.
"What can I do? She wanted princess treatment. And sweet girls like her deserve a little pampering, right?"
Inaya blushed.
"You really are honey-lipped."
Faqair's voice cut in, calm but unarguable.
"Inaya, that's enough. Take the tiffin and eat by yourself."
Then to Danish: "We need to talk. Outside."Inaya took the tiffin from Danish's hand lightly. She knew something was off, but she let it go; Faqair knew what he was doing, and she trusted that completely.
Danish forced a grin as he stepped back.
"Okay, you eat first. I'll be right back."
He gave her a playful wink before following Faqair out, though the tension between the two men lingered like a shadow.
Outside the Room
The hallway was quiet except for distant machine beeps. Danish leaned casually against the wall; Faqair remained rigid, his focus unshakable.
"You scared her," Danish said lightly.
Faqair's gaze didn't waver.
"What are you trying to do?"
Danish smirked.
"Whoa… the calm one actually gets angry?"Faqair stepped closer, his expression calm but unyielding. The quiet hum of the hospital machines and the soft footsteps in the corridor contrasted sharply with the tension coiling between the two men. His voice, steady and low, cut through the silence.
"I'm not angry yet. But get near to her again, and you'll find out why it's better to stay on my good side."
Danish's smirk never faltered, though a faint flicker of challenge danced in his eyes. "Zayn's spoiling you. Trust me, he's no good. When things go south, be on my side — I'm loyal to my people."
Faqair leaned just slightly closer, a quiet strength radiating from him. "I don't need anyone to choose me. I'm enough — for myself, and for the ones I love."
Danish chuckled, the sound sharp yet playful, and shrugged with a smirk. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Faqair's lips curved into a half-smile, a mixture of challenge and quiet assurance. "Let's see who ends up regretting it."
Danish turned toward the door, straightening his posture as he pushed it open to step back into Inaya's room. He softened his voice into polite civility, though the undercurrent of tension remained.
"I have some work. I'll catch up later. Take care. Bye."
Inaya looked up from the tiffin, her faint smile gentle. "Bye."
The door closed behind him, but Danish paused in the doorway beside Faqair. Leaning in just slightly, his voice dropped into a low, almost conspiratorial tone.
"Protect the one you love. I won't make it easy."
Faqair met his gaze steadily, unshaken. "Looking forward to your next move."
Danish finally turned away and walked toward the lift, each step measured and purposeful. Faqair stayed rooted, watching him leave. Once the sound of the closing doors faded, he exhaled slowly, the tension coiling his shoulders melting into a calm, gentle smile as he turned back toward Inaya's room.
To be continued...