The car came to life with a low hum as Zayn turned the key in the ignition.
The streetlights outside flickered against the windshield, casting brief shadows across his face. He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and spoke, measured and calm.
"Tell me the way," he said. "Where do you need to go?"
Meher leaned against the passenger-side window, her elbow resting on the glass, fingertips pressing lightly to her forehead. Her gaze stayed fixed on the passing city, distant and unreadable.
"Just drive straight for now."
Zayn nodded and eased the car forward. The silence inside the vehicle was thick—charged with words left unsaid. Barely a few seconds passed before Meher turned sharply toward him, her expression stormy.
"What do you mean by fiancée, huh?"
Zayn swallowed, eyes still focused on the road ahead. "Fiancée means…" He cleared his throat. "When two people get engaged, they're called fiancé and fiancée."
Meher scoffed. "All brains, no common sense. You know exactly what I'm talking about.
"A faint smirk curved Zayn's lips. "I said that because you want to marry me, right?" he said lightly. "You did send the proposal after all."
He glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to the road.
"I didn't send it," Meher snapped. "It was between your grandfather and my dad. And I'm not interested in you, Mr. Zayn Hashmi. Keep that in mind."
Zayn chuckled under his breath, unbothered. "Don't be shy, Miss Meher."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why should I be shy in front of someone like you?"
"Maybe because," he said casually, "we're going on a date soon?"
She let out a short, humorless laugh. "A date? With you? No chance."
"What's wrong with me?" he asked, pretending offense.
"What's right with you?"
Without warning, Zayn pulled the car over. The sudden halt made Meher turn toward him just as he leaned closer, his presence invading her space.
"Wanna know?" he asked quietly.
Her voice turned cold. "Wanna drive, or should I get off?"
Zayn studied her for a second, then smirked and leaned back, restarting the car. The road swallowed them again.
Meher stared straight ahead now, her tone calm but sharp enough to cut.
"Don't get started with me. The second day after marriage, you'll be begging me to leave you."
Zayn raised an eyebrow. "Oh wow," he teased. "That means you're pretty romantic, huh? Guess I should start preparing."
Her head snapped toward him. "Are you mad or what?!"
The car stopped at a red signal. Zayn turned slightly, his expression softer now, his voice unexpectedly gentle.
"I think," he said, "after meeting you… I did go a little mad."
Meher inhaled deeply, rolled her eyes, and turned back to the window, refusing to respond.
When the light turned green, Zayn drove on. "Now tell me," he said, "where do you want to go?"
"Take a right turn and go straight," she replied, frustration lacing every word.
"Hm."
They drove in silence for a while before Zayn spoke again, his voice quieter this time.
"How's Inaya? Is she fine?"
"Yes," Meher replied flatly.
A few minutes passed.
"Stop here," she said.
Zayn pulled over instantly. "Meher, wait."
Something tightened in her chest. She turned to face him. "What?"
He met her gaze, serious now. "Stay away from him."
Her brows furrowed. "From… whom?"
He raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Oh," she said slowly. "Danish?"
"Yes."
"Why?" she asked, suspicion creeping into her tone.
"He's not a good guy," Zayn replied quickly.
Meher gave a small, mocking smile. "I'm good at dealing with bad people. I mean—just look at you."
"He's different," Zayn insisted.
"Yes," she said. "He's a bit sweet."
"He?" Zayn scoffed. "Sweet?"
"Yes. Anyway, I'm heading in. It's cold out here."
Zayn watched her unbuckle her seatbelt. She won't understand, he thought. Not without knowing his past.
Aloud, he said, "Okay. Take care."
"Thank you so much for the favor," Meher said, stepping out of the car.
Zayn didn't reply. He only offered a faint smile.
She walked away without looking back. Zayn turned on the headlights, watching her until she disappeared into the building.
After a moment, he looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror.
"I'm much sweeter than him," he muttered. "I think so."
After a few seconds of silence, he turned the car around and drove toward home, the night swallowing his thoughts whole.
To be continued...