Shoaib's pov

When I entered my room, my eyes were shocked.

She is standing in front of the mirror, removing her jewellery.

Her pale white skin is glowing against the maroon color lehenga.

But what mesmerized me the most? Her thigh-length dark black silk hair.

It's the first time I am seeing her hair.

She got alert hearing me clear my throat.

"Come on, Shoaib, you can't drool over her hair," I muttered to myself.

She tilted her head towards me upon hearing my throat-clearing sound.

And our eyes met.

Her golden-blue eyes met with mine.

Wait? Didn't she have hazel green orbs like Rubab?

She turned her head towards the mirror again, not hearing anything from me.

Argh, she has golden-blue eyes like her brother. Any man would be lost in the ocean of her golden-blue eyes, but it's me, Shoaib Malik, and as much as I hate her brother, I think I get another reason to hate her too – her golden-blue eyes.

Wait? Why would any man be lost in her eyes? I will kill them for sure.

"Come on, Shoaib. Stop being so protective. In this name shake Nikah, you will leave her after ruining her innocence."

I went to the washroom to avoid any kind of awkwardness.

"Focus, Shoaib, focus. Just one night, and it's done," I scolded myself for staring at her with adoration.

I changed my clothes into comfy t-shirts and night pants and stepped out of the washroom.

She took her dress and immediately locked herself in the washroom.

"Why the hell isn't she saying anything, and why the hell do her eyes have to be like her brother's? God, I hope she'll wear lenses in front of me to save herself from me hating her more."

She came out wearing a plain white pant kurta and wet hair.

Her skin was marred with water droplets, making her look like an edible, pretty little thing.

Stop it, Shoaib. She's not that pretty.

"Taha bhai ki kuch khabr hai?" she asked after some minutes.

Her voice snapped me out of my wonderland where I was gawking at her features like a creep.

"He's in the dungeon," I said, taking a deep breath.

It's time to do some Oscar-winning acting, Shoaib.

"Aap fiqar na karein, Taniya. Woh Rubab ka shauhar hai..." These words left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I swallowed the bitterness.

"Have dinner. We have to catch a flight," I said, changing the topic upon seeing tears in her eyes.

"I want to do that deed with her as soon as possible, but the pain in her eyes is not letting me even touch her without her permission. I am sure she will give me permission very soon, as she is a so-called 'mashriqi ladki'."

She had already cried a lot, that too with lenses on.

She hummed, and we both ate in silence, but my eyes were roaming on her face, hair, and breasts, which she securely hid under the white chiffon dupatta.

"Focus, Shoaib. Just one night. Shreya is waiting for you," I reminded myself again.

She covered herself completely with a long chadar, leaving only her face in view.

Her act made me happy, but my mood soured remembering the way she was holding that bastard, Navruz.

Putting my thoughts aside, I took her hands in mine. She hesitated for a minute but then gave in, and we both left the hotel.

"Istanbul, we are coming."

****