34| You Will Be The Death Of Me

Y O U W I L L B E T H E

D E A T H O F M E

W O R d C O U N T: 5813

"Anaabiyaaa!" Her mother's voice was filled with terror as she reached out for her from the front seat, her trembling hand desperate to hold onto her daughter. Anaabiya sat frozen in the backseat, her heart hammering in her chest as she watched the nightmare unfold before her eyes.

No. Not again.

Tears blurred her vision as she saw exactly where the car was headed. The same road. The same sharp turn. The same headlights blinding her from the opposite direction. It was happening all over again.

She wanted to move, to scream, to reach for her mother's hand, but her body refused to cooperate. She could only watch in helpless horror as the car swerved wildly, the tires screeching against the asphalt.

"You'll die! Stop the car!" she cried out, her voice cracking with desperation. But no one heard her. No one ever did. The car kept speeding forward, straight toward the inevitable.

The blaring horn of the oncoming vehicle filled her ears, followed by the sickening impact of metal colliding with metal. The force sent their car spinning, flipping over in slow, excruciating motion.

"Please—wake me up!" Anaabiya sobbed, pressing her hands over her eyes as if that would make it all disappear. "I don't want to see it!"

But there was no escape.

Her body jolted violently as the car rolled, a deafening crash ringing in her ears. The world blurred into chaos—screams, glass shattering, pain exploding through her limbs.

"No... No... No!" She whimpered, feeling the weight of helplessness crush her chest. The darkness closed in, swallowing everything in its wake.

"If... I... I don't... survive thi—this... take care... care of your sister."

Her mother's voice was barely a whisper, broken and fragile, as blood dribbled from the corner of her lips. Her eyes, once so full of warmth, dulled before shutting completely.

Anaabiya's heart lurched violently in her chest. "No—Ammi!" she tried to cry out, but her own voice betrayed her, strangled by the weight of her grief. The world around her spun as she felt herself slipping, her consciousness fading. The car lay overturned in the middle of the road, metal twisted and shattered, her body trapped, blood rushing to her head for far too long.

Then, nothing.

Darkness swallowed her whole.

But there was a voice—low, steady, and familiar—pulling her back, shattering the suffocating silence.

"Shhh... it's okay. You're safe, Anaabiya. I'm here."

Warmth. A steady rhythm against her ear. A presence strong enough to anchor her. She felt arms tighten around her, holding her close. The erratic beating of her heart refused to slow, her body trembling violently, but she didn't resist as she clung onto him, desperate for something real.

"Open your eyes," his voice murmured against her hair. "Look—there's nothing here. Just you and me."

Her lashes fluttered open, only to be met with blinding light. Everything felt hazy, as though she were lost in a fog she couldn't escape. The room spun, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. It was disorienting—too much, too fast. She wanted to blink away the dizziness, but nothing helped.

"I need to go," she rasped out between shallow breaths. "To my aunt's house. Please."

His body stiffened instantly. She felt it—the way his muscles tensed at her words. But she couldn't stop. She needed to see Nabiha. Needed to make sure she was okay. Her parents had been right. Nabiha was her responsibility, and yet she had left her behind.

"Anaabiya, look at me," Humza commanded, his voice strained with something unreadable.

She did. And when she did, she was caught in the intensity of his gaze—burning, conflicted, and so full of something she couldn't name.

She tried to move, but his grip around her waist was unrelenting, keeping her pressed against him. They were still in bed, still tangled in the aftermath of her nightmare. The warmth of his skin against hers made her breath hitch, her chest rising and falling too fast.

"Slowly," he coaxed, his voice impossibly gentle. "Breathe in."

She inhaled shakily, mirroring his deep, steady breath.

"Now out."

Her exhale came uneven at first, but he was patient. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she found herself anchored in his gaze. He didn't look away—not even for a second.

Again. And again.

Her breathing slowed. The chaos inside her dulled.

Minutes passed, and eventually, the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat settled. But his arms remained around her, holding her together when she felt like she could still fall apart.

"Do you feel any better?" Humza's voice was low, careful, as he studied her face.

Anaabiya gave a small nod, but the truth was far from it. She felt awful. Shaken to her core.

He didn't press for details about her nightmare, and for that, she was grateful. The last thing she wanted was to relive it again through words.

"It's still late," he murmured, his voice laced with quiet exhaustion. "Try to get some rest. You'll feel better once you wake up."

But the mere thought of closing her eyes again sent a shiver down her spine.

"I... I don't want to," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I'm scared."

Humza exhaled softly, his grip around her tightening ever so slightly. "I know," he admitted, his tone soothing. "But I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Just close your eyes."

She hesitated, but the exhaustion from all the crying weighed heavily on her. Slowly, she let her lids fall shut, her body unconsciously seeking the warmth of his.

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat filled her ears, matching her own frantic pulse. It was fast, too fast. But it was real. It was there.

And somehow, despite everything, she finally drifted into sleep.

The next time Anaabiya's eyes fluttered open, the warmth she had fallen asleep in was gone. Instead of Humza's solid presence, there was only a pillow. A sharp pang of unease settled in her chest as she suddenly recalled the nightmare from the night before.

She had been haunted by similar dreams ever since the accident, but this one had been different—more vivid, more real. For the first time, she had felt the full force of the impact again, as if she had been thrown back into that horrifying moment.

The weight of it threatened to suffocate her, and in a desperate attempt to escape the memories clawing at her mind, she strode towards the window, seeking solace in the world outside.

It was early morning, the sky painted in soft hues of orange and pink. The mansion's sprawling garden stretched before her, bathed in the golden glow of dawn. But her eyes weren't drawn to the beauty of nature.

They found him.

Down below, in the middle of the vast garden, Humza and Huzaifa were playing football. Humza was shirtless, his toned muscles flexing as he effortlessly dodged the ball, his movements sharp, precise.

Anaabiya's breath hitched. The sight of him—strong, unguarded, lost in the game—made her forget, if only for a moment, the pain that had been suffocating her.

She let herself stare, unable to look away, drinking in the view with an unfamiliar hunger. She had never allowed herself to notice before, but now she couldn't ignore it—he was breathtaking.

And she knew exactly how it felt to be in his arms.

A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek.

She blinked, snapping herself out of it.

What was happening to her?

Not long ago, she had hated him. She had despised him with every fiber of her being. But now...

Now, that hatred had been replaced with something else.

Something she wasn't ready to name.

Something she wasn't sure she could fight.

Humza's eyes snapped up to meet hers, and in that instant, something in Anaabiya's stomach twisted. A strange sensation washed over her—light-headedness, an unexplainable dizziness that left her rooted in place.

His gaze burned with an intensity she couldn't decipher, a fire raging behind those dark eyes, laced with an emotion she didn't quite understand. Had she done something?

Down in the garden, Humza abruptly stopped dodging the ball, momentarily forgetting the game. Huzaifa, ever the opportunist, wasted no time in seizing the advantage, swiftly taking control of the ball.

"Hey! That's cheating!" Humza protested, snapping back to reality, his voice laced with frustration.

Huzaifa merely smirked, dribbling the ball away effortlessly. "Not my fault you got distracted," he teased.

But Humza wasn't paying attention to him anymore. His gaze had already drifted back to the window—to her.

Anaabiya's breath caught as their eyes locked again. A sudden wave of warmth rushed to her cheeks, making her heart stutter.

Why am I blushing?

The tension in the air was almost suffocating, thick with something unspoken. She quickly averted her gaze, pretending to busy herself, but she could still feel his eyes on her, unwavering.

Needing an escape, she stepped away from the window, focusing on rearranging the bed.

But before she could fully compose herself, the door burst open.

Humza strode in, his movements sharp, purposeful. The fury in his eyes sent a jolt through her.

He wasn't just here—he was angry.

And she didn't even know why.

As Humza took long, determined strides toward her, Anaabiya instinctively stepped back, her pulse quickening. The look in his eyes unsettled her—it was raw, conflicted, and... something else she couldn't quite place.

"W-What's wrong?" she asked, her voice uncertain, but he didn't answer. Instead, he closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, backing her against the wall with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

Her breath hitched. What is even happening?

"Why are you doing this to me?" His voice was low, almost desperate, yet laced with frustration.

Anaabiya blinked in confusion. "I—I don't understand what you're talking about," she admitted truthfully, searching his face for an explanation.

That's when she caught the scent. The sharp, unmistakable tang of alcohol clung to him, weaving through the air between them. Her brows furrowed as realization dawned.

"Did you drink?" she asked, her tone shifting from bewilderment to quiet fury. She hated the thought of him turning to something so destructive.

His jaw clenched, and his lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smirk, yet not a scowl either. "That's none of your concern," he shot back harshly.

The coldness in his voice made her stomach sink.

Just last night, this was the same man who had held her, had murmured reassurances in the dark, anchoring her back from the abyss of her nightmares. And now, in the daylight, he was looking at her as if she were the very thing plaguing him.

"What happened to you?" she whispered, more to herself than to him.

His eyes darkened further. "Why do you keep playing with my mind?" His question came out almost like an accusation, filled with something unspoken—something volatile.

Anaabiya frowned, utterly lost. "I haven't done anything," she defended, her confusion mounting.

Humza let out a hollow chuckle, shaking his head as if mocking himself. Then his gaze locked onto hers, burning and relentless.

"I'm not in love with you," he declared, his voice sharp, almost cruel, as if he needed to convince himself more than her.

The words landed heavier than she expected. A dull ache settled in her chest, unfamiliar yet piercing. Why did that hurt?

Still, she forced herself to stay composed.

"Okay," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a fleeting moment, something flickered in Humza's expression—something hesitant, almost expectant, as if he was waiting for her to say more. To fight him on it.

But she didn't.

She just stood there, silent.

And somehow, that silence cut deeper than any words ever could.

Humza took a deep, measured breath, his eyes shutting tightly as if trying to regain control over something unraveling within him. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet yet laced with an edge of vulnerability.

"Am I your nightmare?"

Anaabiya's heart clenched at the sheer weight behind his words. Did he truly believe that?

"No," she said firmly, meeting his gaze with unwavering certainty, leaving no room for doubt.

For a moment, he simply studied her, as if searching for any sign of deception. Then, his voice dropped lower, tinged with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

"What did you see last night?" he asked, his tone unreadable. "Was it Uzair again?"

She stiffened slightly, her pulse quickening at the mention of that name. So, he always knew it correctly. But there was no hesitation when she decided to tell him the truth.

"It wasn't about Uzair," she admitted. "I dreamt of the accident. The one that took my parents." Her voice wavered slightly, but she forced herself to continue. "In that dream, they were telling me to take care of Nabiha. That's why I wanted to go to my aunt's house... I just wanted to see my sister." She wanted him to understand—needed him to understand. She wasn't trying to betray him, she wasn't seeking an escape.

Humza remained silent, his expression shifting into something unreadable. But his eyes... they betrayed him. There was an unbearable anguish in them—raw and unfiltered. Despair. Confusion. Loneliness. It was as if, for the first time, he had let his guard down, allowing her a glimpse into the torment buried beneath his rough exterior.

She wanted to say more, to reach out, to break through whatever walls he was hiding behind. But before she could find the right words, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Not a single word. Not a backward glance.

Only then did she realize how erratically her heart was pounding, how a strange chill ran down her spine in the absence of his warmth.

The room felt emptier without him.

Later, she took a long shower, letting the water wash away the remnants of the nightmarish memories. Afterward, she offered her morning prayer, feeling a little calmer, though the weight of the unspoken words between them still lingered in her chest.

The entire morning passed without a single sight of Humza.

It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

Anaabiya had been restless the entire day, her thoughts tangled in an endless loop of confusion. She kept replaying the events from last night, searching for any mistake she might have made. What had she done wrong? Why had Humza suddenly pulled away?

Despite her own emotional turmoil, she knew she had to see Nabiha today, even if it meant enduring her cold glares and sharp words. That was a battle she was willing to fight, but nothing could prepare her for what came next.

Sitting at the dining table, she picked at her evening snack, her appetite nowhere to be found. Bibijaan sat beside her, eating in silence. They hadn't even had lunch, both caught up in their own worlds.

"Have you seen Humza?" Anaabiya asked casually, trying to sound indifferent, though her heart betrayed her with its uneven rhythm.

Bibijaan's lips curled into a knowing smile. "You two are impossible," she remarked, shaking her head. "Both of you know exactly what's in your hearts, yet neither has the courage to take the first step."

Anaabiya felt her face heat up instantly. "It's not—" She stopped mid-sentence, her voice suddenly failing her as her gaze locked onto the entrance.

Nabiha stood there.

Anaabiya's breath hitched as she took in her sister's fragile form. She had lost weight—too much of it. But what really sent a shiver down Anaabiya's spine was the faint bruising on her face.

Who had hurt her?

Without a second thought, Anaabiya shot up from her seat, rushing toward Nabiha with panic tightening around her chest. She barely noticed how hard she was clenching her fists as she reached her. But the moment their eyes met, all the anger inside her melted away, leaving only unbearable pain.

There was something devastating in Nabiha's gaze—grief, guilt, and something else she couldn't quite place. It made Anaabiya's heart ache in a way she hadn't felt in years.

She pulled her sister into an embrace, but the second Nabiha flinched, Anaabiya's body stiffened. She was hurt. How badly?

"I'm sorry," Anaabiya whispered, her voice barely holding back the sob threatening to escape. She loosened her grip but refused to let go, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

And then, as she lifted her eyes, she saw him.

Humza stood right behind Nabiha, watching her.

His gaze held hers, unreadable yet intense, sending a shiver through her already fragile state.

Realization dawned upon her.

He brought her here for me.

Anaabiya's entire body tensed as she pulled away from Nabiha, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Her voice was tight with barely restrained fury. "Who did this to you?"

Nabiha didn't answer. She stood there, unmoving, her gaze fixated on the floor as if speaking required more strength than she could muster. She looked drained—emotionally, physically, and mentally.

"It was your aunt," Humza's voice cut through the silence, his tone sharp with disdain. "And your dear brother, Uzair."

Anaabiya's head snapped toward him, catching the way he had emphasized Uzair's name. There was no mistaking the contempt in his voice.

A strangled gasp came from behind them. "Ya Rab," Bibijaan murmured, horrified.

Anaabiya's blood boiled. How dare they lay a hand on her sister? She felt an overwhelming urge to storm out, to find them and make them pay for what they had done. Without thinking, she turned on her heel, already prepared to leave, when a firm grip on her arm stopped her.

Humza.

"It's taken care of," he said, his voice low but firm. "You don't need to go. She needs you right now. I've already called a doctor. Just take her to your room."

Anaabiya stared at him for a moment, her chest heaving with anger. But he was right. As much as she wanted justice, revenge wouldn't heal Nabiha's wounds.

Swallowing hard, she reached for Nabiha's arm, making sure her touch was light in case of any unseen injuries. Her sister didn't resist. She simply followed as Anaabiya led her away, her steps sluggish and weary.

Bibijaan helped guide them to the room but didn't linger, quietly slipping out once they were inside, leaving the two sisters alone.

Anaabiya gently guided Nabiha to sit on the bed, her own hands trembling as she wiped away the endless stream of tears rolling down her face. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop blaming herself for what had happened.

"Nabiha, please talk to me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

At the sound of her name, Nabiha's hollow eyes met hers, and for a moment, she seemed frozen. Then, without warning, a single tear escaped, followed by another—until she completely broke down. Her sobs wracked her fragile body as she collapsed onto Anaabiya's lap, clutching her like a lifeline.

"Tell me everything," Anaabiya pleaded, her own throat tightening as she fought to stay strong. "I swear, I won't let them get away with this."

Nabiha hiccuped between sobs, her grip tightening around Anaabiya. "Aapi... after you left, everything changed. Aunty and Uzair... they started treating me like I was nothing. She stopped my education, took my phone, and made sure I had no way of reaching you. She would barely give me food and kept saying horrible things, twisting everything to make me hate you." Her voice cracked as she buried her face deeper into Anaabiya's lap.

Anaabiya's hands shook as she stroked her sister's back, silently urging her to continue.

"I tried to leave, Aapi," Nabiha gasped between ragged breaths. "I begged them to let me go, but they wouldn't. They kept saying I was worth too much... that they had received money because of us, and if I left, it would stop. Aunty—she never wanted you to marry her son. She only wanted me to turn against you. She wanted me to blame you for everything. And I—I let her." Nabiha's sobs grew uncontrollable. "I was so stupid, Aapi. It was my fault. I believed her. I hated you. I deserve this."

Anaabiya froze as Nabiha's last words shattered the last bit of control she had.

"You don't deserve any of this," she said, her voice filled with rage.

Nabiha flinched slightly, but Anaabiya cupped her face, forcing her to look at her.

"Listen to me," she whispered fiercely. "Nothing—nothing—justifies what they did to you. And Uzair—" Anaabiya's breath caught as a fresh wave of fury surged through her veins. "He hit you?"

Nabiha nodded, her fingers twisting the fabric of Anaabiya's dress. "I said something about his mother, and he—he lost it."

Anaabiya clenched her jaw, her vision blurring with fury. Every part of her body burned with the need for revenge. She had endured everything in silence for Nabiha's sake. She had let that woman's cruelty go unpunished because she believed Nabiha was safe.

But now?

Now, she wanted to make them pay.

Anaabiya swallowed hard before finally finding the strength to ask, "How did Humza find you?"

Nabiha's tear-filled eyes met hers, and with a shaky breath, she whispered, "Humza bhai saved me, Aapi." Her voice broke as fresh sobs racked her frail body.

"Shhh, it's okay," Anaabiya soothed, gently rubbing her back. "Don't talk now. Just rest."

But Nabiha didn't listen. She gripped Anaabiya's arm as though afraid she would disappear, her body trembling as she continued.

"The beatings got worse after Humza bhai shot Uzair," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Aunty—she went mad with rage. She took everything out on me. Every slap, every kick, every cruel word—she made me pay for what happened to her son. And today... today, Uzair left the country. He said he'd never come back."

Anaabiya's breath hitched. Uzair was gone? She should have felt relieved, but all she could focus on was the pain in her sister's voice.

"And after he left," Nabiha continued, her voice breaking, "she snapped. She blamed our parents for everything—screamed about how their deaths ruined her life. Then she turned on me. Aapi... she would have killed me today if Humza bhai hadn't come when he did."

Anaabiya felt like all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. The mere thought of what could have happened made her body tense with overwhelming rage.

"In the morning, Humza bhai came looking for me," Nabiha went on, her voice hoarse from crying. "Aunty lied—she told him I wasn't home, that I had gone to college. But he didn't believe her." She sucked in a sharp breath before whispering, "She had locked me in the storeroom, Aapi. My hands were tied. There was a cloth stuffed in my mouth. I screamed, I tried to fight, but she made sure no one could hear me."

Anaabiya shut her eyes tightly, her heart breaking at the thought of her sister trapped and helpless.

"Humza bhai—he put a gun to her forehead," Nabiha continued, shivering as she recalled the moment. "He ordered his men to search the house, and when they found me..." Her lips quivered as she clutched Anaabiya's hand. "He was furious, Aapi. I've never seen him like that. He told Aunty to prepare herself for the worst, that she would pay for everything she had done. He said he wouldn't let her get away with it."

Anaabiya felt something shift inside her. The sheer protectiveness in Humza's actions, the rage he had felt for her sister's suffering—it made her heart ache in a way she wasn't ready to acknowledge.

Nabiha exhaled shakily, her voice barely above a whisper now. "You were right, Aapi. When you said that after your marriage, I would have one more person to care for me... you were right."

Anaabiya's heart clenched painfully at those words. And yet, beneath the sorrow, beneath the rage, something else stirred. A warmth she didn't expect.

For the first time, she allowed herself to feel it—the flutter in her chest, the quiet realization creeping into her heart.

Humza wasn't just a man she had been forced to marry.

He had become something more.

And whether she was ready to accept it or not, she knew one thing for certain—he had stolen her heart before she had even realized it.

He was nothing she had ever wanted, yet everything she had ever needed.

The door creaked open, breaking the silence, and in walked the doctor—followed closely by the man who had unknowingly wreaked havoc in her heart. Humza entered the room with his usual commanding presence, but he didn't spare her a single glance. That realization left an unexpected sting in her chest, a hollow feeling of dejection settling deep inside her.

The doctor took a seat beside Nabiha, right where Anaabiya had been moments ago. Left with no choice, she stepped aside, finding herself standing next to Humza. Yet, even with the proximity between them, he didn't acknowledge her presence. His entire focus remained on the doctor, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable.

Anaabiya's fingers curled into fists as emotions churned inside her. She longed to say something—anything—to break through the invisible wall between them. She wanted to tell him how deeply she respected him, how much she admired him, how Ahad had been right all along.

She wanted to hear about his life, his pain, his struggles. She wanted to be there for him, just as he had been there for her and Nabiha.

But did he even love her?

The question gnawed at her, but deep down, she already knew the answer.

Of course, he did.

No one would do what Humza had done for her if they didn't care. No one would risk everything—his own life, his own sanity—for someone he didn't love.

And yet, as he stood there, refusing to look at her, she couldn't help but wonder—if love wasn't the problem, then what was?

Anaabiya had to tell him. She had to tell Humza that she loved him because that would change everything.

Despite Nabiha's condition, an unshakable happiness settled in her heart. Everything would be fine now—she was certain of it. Once she confessed her feelings, he would be hers. Completely. He would listen to her, just as he always did, and if she asked, he would send Malika away—no matter what reason he had for keeping her in the house. Humza would have to listen. He always did.

Together, they would take care of Nabiha. Together, they would figure everything out.

For the first time in a long while, Anaabiya felt at peace. Allah's plans were truly perfect, His wisdom beyond comprehension. Everything that had happened, every hardship she had endured, had led her here—to this realization, to this moment.

She couldn't take her eyes off Humza, her heart fluttering uncontrollably. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, making it nearly impossible to stay still. She had to talk to him as soon as possible. She couldn't wait any longer.

"I'll give her a painkiller for now," the doctor spoke, pulling out an injection from his case. "She'll feel very sleepy after this."

At the sight of the needle, Nabiha's face paled, her body tensing immediately. "I don't want an injection," she whispered, fear evident in her voice.

Anaabiya quickly moved to her side, grasping her hand tightly. "It'll be all right," she reassured softly, offering a comforting smile. "I'm right here."

Before Nabiha could respond, another voice cut through the room.

"And so am I," Humza added casually, stepping closer. "If you're a good sister and brave through this, you can ask me for anything you want, and I promise you'll have it."

Anaabiya turned to him in surprise. She hadn't even realized he was standing so close. For a moment, she simply stared, caught off guard.

He wasn't the man she had thought he was.

He wasn't cruel or unfeeling. He wasn't distant or indifferent.

He was kind. He was protective. And worst of all, he was smiling—at Nabiha.

A strange emotion twisted inside her chest, sharp and unexpected.

Humza still hadn't looked at her. Not even once.

She watched as he gave the doctor a small nod, signaling him to proceed while they worked to distract Nabiha. Even in a moment like this, he was in control, effortlessly ensuring that everything was taken care of.

Anaabiya bit her lip, torn between frustration and admiration.

She needed to talk to him.

And soon.

"And what exactly do you plan on giving her?" Anaabiya asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

The truth was, she only asked because she wanted him to speak to her—to acknowledge her, even if just for a moment. But he did neither.

"Anything she wants," Humza replied, his tone even. His gaze remained fixed on Nabiha, his expression unreadable. "My little sister can ask for anything."

This time, however, he didn't smile.

Anaabiya swallowed the disappointment that rose in her throat.

"There, it's done," she said, forcing a cheerful tone as the doctor pulled the needle away.

Nabiha blinked in surprise, flexing her arm. "I didn't even feel a thing," she murmured in amazement.

The doctor offered a reassuring nod before quickly listing out the prescribed medications. With his job done, he packed up his things and exited the room. Without a word, Humza followed him, disappearing from sight before Anaabiya could even think of stopping him.

And just like that, he was gone.

The following night was just as restless.

Anaabiya ensured that Nabiha was comfortably tucked in, watching over her until her breathing evened out in deep sleep. Anaabiya tossed and turned, pulling the blanket over her head, then kicking it off again. No matter what she did, sleep refused to come.

Her thoughts swirled in a never-ending cycle, all leading back to one person.

Humza.

Why had he changed so suddenly?

Why was he acting like last night had never happened?

Every time she heard a sound—soft footsteps in the hall, the distant creak of a door—her heart would leap, and her eyes would immediately dart toward the entrance, hoping to see him standing there.

But he never came.

Maybe she had been foolish to expect him.

Maybe last night had meant something to her, but nothing to him.

The thought sent a wave of unease crashing over her.

By the time the clock struck 2:00 AM, she had given up entirely. Sleep was out of the question, and her mind was in complete turmoil.

Careful not to wake Nabiha, she slipped out of bed, grabbing her pillow before making her way to the door.

She hesitated for only a second.

Then, with quiet but determined steps, she walked straight toward his room.

Anaabiya hesitated for only a moment before raising her hand and knocking on the heavy wooden door at the far end of the corridor. The silence that followed was unnerving. She stood there, waiting, hoping—but there was no response.

Her heart sank slightly, disappointment settling in as she let out a quiet sigh. Just as she turned to leave, the sound of the door creaking open froze her in place.

She spun around, and there he stood. Humza.

The dim lighting from the hallway cast soft shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw. His gaze—dark, intense—roamed over her, and for a fleeting second, something unreadable flickered in his eyes. But then, just as quickly, the intensity faded, replaced by a glint of amusement that sent her pulse into a frenzy.

Anaabiya swallowed hard as her eyes betrayed her, lowering of their own accord. Her breath hitched at the sight of his bare chest, the toned muscles shifting slightly as he leaned against the doorframe. A sudden, undeniable longing washed over her—a desire to lose herself in the warmth of his embrace, to seek solace against him just as she had the other night.

He said nothing. He only watched her, waiting, as if silently daring her to speak first.

Anaabiya shifted uneasily under his piercing gaze, her fingers tightening around the pillow she clutched to her chest. Her heart pounded erratically, and she struggled to find her voice.

"I... I can't sleep," she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Humza arched a brow, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as if he had already guessed where this was going. He leaned slightly against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his bare chest, the corner of his lips twitching.

"So?" His voice held an unmistakable teasing edge, and she could see the way he was fighting back a smirk.

Anaabiya inhaled sharply, summoning the courage to say the words she knew he was waiting for. "I... I want to sleep here. With you," she murmured hesitantly, her cheeks flushing with warmth.

For a moment, Humza simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, just as suddenly, he let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. But this time, there was no holding back—his lips stretched into a full, breathtaking grin that sent her heart racing.

"One day, woman, you will be the death of me." he muttered, amusement laced in his voice.

Before Anaabiya could react, he reached for the pillow in her hands. But instead of just taking it, he pulled her along with it, yanking her forward with a swift, effortless motion. A gasp escaped her lips as her body collided with his, the warmth of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of her nightwear.

Her breath hitched as his strong arms wrapped securely around her waist, holding her flush against him. The firm grip left her breathless, an unfamiliar sensation blooming deep in her chest—both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

Trapped in his embrace, she couldn't think, couldn't speak. All she could do was stare up at him, completely at his mercy, while the world around them seemed to fade into nothingness.

Do you have a love and hate relationship with Humza?

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E D I T E D on 4.3.2025