I was completely taken aback—he kissed me. He actually kissed me, and I didn’t even try to stop him. My mind raced with confusion and surprise. It felt like I should push him away right now, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Why? Why did his kiss send shivers down my spine, igniting something deep within me, even though I barely knew him? It was as if a switch had flipped, and every doubt, every hesitation, melted away.

I had always imagined my first kiss to be something magical, full of butterflies and fairy-tale romance. But this? This was unexpected and raw. The most startling part?

This was my first kiss,

and he claimed it so effortlessly, leaving me breathless and wanting more. My heart raced, a mix of exhilaration and fear coursing through me. The taste of him lingered on my lips, intoxicating and warm.

These thoughts swirled in my mind when suddenly his phone rang, cutting through the haze of emotion like a sharp blade. I felt his lips pull away from mine, and to be honest, I didn’t like it at all. The warmth evaporated in an instant, replaced by an unsettling void.

“What? Tell me which hospital? I’m coming right now,” he said, his voice sharp and urgent, a stark contrast to the softness we had just shared.

That’s when he walked away—no apologies, no explanations, leaving me standing there in a whirlwind of confusion. I was about to call out to him, to ask him what was happening, when Aria grabbed my hand tightly.

“Let him go. His mother just had a heart attack. He’s heading to the hospital now. Maaz called me and told me the news. I was going to tell Azael, but before I could, he…” she trailed off, her eyes wide with concern.

My heart sank. “What? His mother? Oh no…” I interrupted her, feeling a sudden wave of empathy wash over me.

“Okay, I understand. But Aria, should we go to the hospital? I mean, to check on his mother? I don’t know why, but I feel like I should go. What am I thinking? Of course, we should go.

I can imagine what he’s going through right now. Hearing about his mom reminded me of when my own mother fell ill and how helpless I felt…”

My voice trembled as memories surged forth, each one more painful than the last.

“Alizeh, focus!” Aria’s voice broke through my spiralling thoughts, snapping me back to the present. “Let’s go already.”

I nodded, adrenaline coursing through me, battling the remnants of shock and confusion. The kiss still tingled on my lips, and the weight of Azael’s urgent situation settled heavily in my chest. As we hurried to the car, I could feel the conflicting emotions within me—a part of me still reeling from that kiss, yet another part entirely consumed with concern for a man I barely knew.

Author's pov

Within no time Azael reached the hospital and asked the receptionist “ Mam, Nazila khan, Where is she admitted ?

The receptionist was about to inform him when Maaz appeared suddenly, his presence commanding. Without a word, he grasped Azael by the arm and led him away, cutting the conversation short before the receptionist could respond.came told him the room number. As Azael reached near the room he saw his father speaking with the doctor.

Overwhelmed, he rushed to his father, clinging to him, and through his tears, he choked out, "Dad, Mom will be okay, right?" He continued to sob, unable to stop. His father held him close, trying to soothe him, "Everything will be alright, don't worry. Your mom will get better, just pray to Allah."

Amidst this, his father turned to the doctor and said, "Doctor, please ensure that everything is done properly." The doctor reassured them, "Don't worry, Mr. Khan, we're doing everything we can. You can rest assured, but keep praying to Allah. Ultimately, it's all in His hands. The doctor said this and then walked away.”

Alizeh’s pov.

The moment I step into the hallway, the sound of Azael’s sobs hits me like a wave, raw and aching. It echoes off the sterile walls, filling the space with a sorrow so deep it feels like it could swallow us whole.

My heart clenches painfully in my chest at the sight of him—his shoulders hunched, his body shaking with each sob. It’s a sight I never thought I’d see:

His best friend is beside him, arms wrapped tightly around him, as if trying to hold him together, offering silent comfort.

But no amount of words or embraces could seem to reach him at that moment. There’s a hopelessness in the air that makes it hard to breathe.

Then, as if sensing us, Azael freezes. His sobbing cuts off abruptly, replaced by a hollow silence that feels even more unbearable. He wipes his face quickly, as though embarrassed by his vulnerability. His gaze never meets mine, never acknowledges my presence.

Without a word, he pushes himself to his feet, his movements stiff and mechanical, like he’s on autopilot.

And then he’s gone, walking down the hallway without so much as a backward glance. The emptiness he leaves behind is suffocating, the air heavy with unspoken grief. I want to call out to him, to stop him, but the words die in my throat.

As I stood there I overheard Aria as she reached out to Maaz, her voice laced with concern. “How is Azael’s mom?” she asked, her eyes glistening with worry.

Maaz’s response was immediate, yet filled with an undercurrent of fear. “She’s in the operating room right now,” he said, his voice taut with the weight of the situation. I could see the tension etched across Aria’s face as she pressed on, “But will she be okay? Aunty will pull through, right?” Her voice trembled, revealing the depths of her anxiety.

The gravity of Maaz’s answer hit me hard: “The doctor said they will do everything they can. All we can do now is pray.” As those words left his lips, I noticed a single tear escape his eye, trailing down his cheek.

Aria quickly stepped in, trying to comfort him, “Don’t cry, please! Everything will be alright. The doctor said so. We need to hold onto hope and pray.”

Maaz, fighting back tears, replied, “Yes, of course, she will be fine. I have complete faith in Allah.” His voice broke slightly, revealing the strain he was under. “I’ve been holding back my tears for Azael’s sake. If I start to cry, who will be there for him?”

His vulnerability struck a chord within me. “You know na, baby,” he continued, looking almost imploringly at Aria, “Aunty means so much to me—she’s like a second mother. I can’t bear the thought of losing her.”

In that moment, the raw emotion in his voice resonated deeply. I felt the weight of his anguish, the burden of his love for Azael’s mother. A heaviness settled in my chest as I understood the gravity of the situation. We were standing on the precipice of uncertainty, grappling with the fragility of life, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of empathy for both Azael and Maaz.

I realised how interconnected our lives had become in such a short span. In this moment of crisis, the bonds of friendship and love were being tested, and we all were grappling with our own fears and hopes. As we waited for news, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were all tied together by our shared pain, a collective heartbeat echoing in the sterile hallways of the hospital, waiting for a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the operating room, and an unsettling silence enveloped the waiting area. Azael’s father, his face etched with worry, rushed forward, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.

“Doctor, how is the patient? Is everything alright?”

For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze as we all held our breaths, a collective anticipation hanging in the air. Then, the doctor smiled, a warmth spreading across his features, and delivered the news that felt like a lifeline: “The operation was successful, Mr. Khan. Mrs. Khan is out of danger, God willing.”

In that instant, relief washed over us like a soothing balm. I glanced at Aria and Maaz, and we exchanged a look of pure gratitude, our smiles bursting forth like sunrays after a storm. We silently thanked God for this miracle, for the chance that had been granted to Khan’s family.

Azael’s father, still grappling with the weight of the moment, turned to the doctor once more. “Can we see her? Can we meet the patient?” The hope in his voice was palpable.

“Yes, absolutely,” the doctor replied. “But only one person at a time.” He then looked around, his gaze searching. “Where is Azael?”

At that moment, Azael’s father turned toward us, and Aria quickly answered, “Maaz went to get Azael.” There was an urgency in her tone, a longing for Azael to be present during this fragile moment of reunion.

Then, as if the universe had conspired to amplify the joy in that room, we heard a voice—a sweet, pure sound that seemed to dance through the air. “Papa Papa! Ammi is okay now!”

The voice, filled with a childlike innocence and uncontainable happiness, pierced through the tension. Azael rushed into the waiting area, his eyes glistening with tears of joy, as he ran toward his father, throwing himself into his arms.

The embrace was overwhelming; it was a moment where words were unnecessary, where love spoke louder than anything else. “Ammi is okay!” Azael cried, his voice a mix of relief and elation, as he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck, both of them engulfed in a profound sense of gratitude and relief.

In that moment, I felt a swell of emotion well up inside me—a mixture of joy for Azael and a bittersweet ache for the trials he had faced. It was a moment that encapsulated the fragility of life, the strength of family bonds, and the unwavering hope that somehow, against all odds, things could turn around.

We all stood there, witnesses to a reunion that felt like a gentle reminder that even in the depths of despair, love has the power to heal and unite us in the most beautiful ways.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, my phone began to ring, its shrill tone slicing through the atmosphere of relief and joy. Azael’s father stepped back, momentarily distracted, and turned his attention to us, curious about the sudden interruption.

I quickly silenced my phone, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The word "sorry" slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

“app kon ho, beta?” Azael’s father asked, his tone gentle but inquisitive.

(Who are you, dear?)

Aria stepped in with a reassuring smile, “This is my friend, Uncle. We came to check on Aunty’s health and to see how she’s doing. Thankfully, she’s doing much better now.”

“Oh, thank you, dear,” he replied, genuine gratitude shining in his eyes. “It means a lot to have you by our side during this difficult time. It’s a comfort knowing Aunty is out of danger.”

His voice was filled with warmth, yet there was an underlying exhaustion that hinted at the weight he had carried throughout the night. “But it’s getting late—actually, it’s almost morning now. You all should head home. Or if you’d like, I can ask my driver to take you back.”

As I glanced over at Azael, I noticed him engaged in conversation with Maaz, his demeanor transformed. He was no longer the brooding figure consumed by worry; he radiated joy, his laughter filling the air like music.

“kitna hot lagta hai yaar ye hanste huwe”

(He looks so handsome when he smiles)

Suddenly, my subconscious mind chimed in, whispering that I was still hopelessly romantic. "How could I possibly feel this way in the midst of such chaos?"

As I was lost in my thoughts, Aria interjected, “Thank you, Uncle, but we came in our car, so we’ll be leaving in it.”

Before I could help myself, I chimed in, “Okay, Uncle, please take care of Aunty. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let us know.”

With that, I turned to leave, Uncle smiled warmly, his gratitude evident.

Just then, I caught Azael’s eye. He seemed to hear my voice and turned to look at me. Our gazes met for a brief moment, and in that instant, the world around us faded away, leaving only the connection between us, electric and undeniable.

But then, just as quickly, he shifted his attention back to Maaz, who was still engaged in conversation with Aria.

Aria turned to me, “Your mom is calling you. She’s been trying to reach you,” she said, “Come on, let’s head home. You can talk to her there.”

Her words jolted me back to reality, grounding me amidst the whirlwind of emotions I had been caught in. I nodded, the urgency of her message resonating within me. “Yes, let’s go,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tumult of feelings swirling inside me.

With that, we both turned on our heels, the weight of the evening’s events settling into a comforting silence as we walked away from the hospital.