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 we had just shared evaporated in an instant, replaced by an unsettling void. My lips tingled, aching for the return of his—my body leaning forward as if it could close the distance on its own. A desperate urge rose inside me, to grab him back, to feel the press of his lips against mine again, softer, longer—until the world disappeared.

His voice pulled me back from my drifting whim in that instant.

“What? Tell me which hospital? I’m coming right now.” His voice turned sharp and urgent, so different from the tenderness of a moment ago.

And then he walked away—no apologies, no explanations. Just gone. Leaving me standing there in a whirlwind of confusion, my heart stumbling to catch up with what had just happened.

I was about to call out to him when Aria’s hand grabbed mine tightly, stopping me in my tracks.

I was on the verge of asking her why,

but before I could, she spoke up “Let him go. His mom just had a heart attack. He’s going to the hospital. Maaz just told me,” she said it all in  her one breath, her eyes wide with concern.

My heart sank. “What…? His mother?” The words tumbled out of me, shaky, almost fragile. A wave of empathy crashed into my chest, drowning out my earlier frustration.

I stopped, the heaviness of it sinking in.

Taking a breath, I asked again, softer this time, “I know Maaz,  but how he known him?” Curiosity etched across my face, still completely unaware of the relation between him and Maaz.

“He’s Maaz’s best friend,” she replied quickly.

The words hit me like thunder. My mouth fell open. Out of all the people in this city… I had been kissed by my best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. The realization twisted in my chest, equal parts shock, guilt, and something I couldn’t yet name.

Aria caught the shift on my face immediately. “Why? What happened?” she asked, clearly unaware of the kiss that had just stolen my breath away.

“Nothing…” I forced a smile, scrambling for a distraction. “By the way, where were you? I didn’t see you.”

Aria hesitated for a moment before answering. “I was just about to call Maaz, to ask where he was. But then his call came, and… you know the rest.” She gestured toward the situation, her expression tense with worry.

Then she frowned slightly, her curiosity peeking through. “But tell me… why was Azael standing so close to you? What was he saying?” From her words, it was clear she hadn’t seen him kiss me—thank God.

“I—I don’t know,” I stammered, struggling to steady my voice. “He didn’t say anything to me. Maybe he came to ask you about Maaz… but you weren’t there at the time, and then his phone rang.” I tried to sound confident, hoping she would believe me.

Before she could probe further, I spoke quickly, “I was just thinking, maybe we should go check on his mother? I don’t know why, but I feel like we should be there.” My voice softened with concern, the worry tugging deep inside me.

I could imagine what he must be going through. Hearing about his mom reminded me of when my own mother fell ill—how helpless I had felt, how small. My throat tightened as the memory threatened to break me.

“Alizeh,!” Aria’s voice snapped me back to the present, pulling me from the spiral of old wounds. “Let’s go already.”

I nodded, adrenaline coursing through me. My lips still burned with the ghost of his kiss, yet my heart grew heavier for the storm Azael was walking into.

As we hurried to the car, part of me trembled from that kiss, while another part was anchored in a gnawing concern for a man I barely knew.

Author's pov

Within moments, Azael reached the hospital, his heart pounding. He approached the receptionist, voice trembling, “Mam… Nazila Khan… where is she admitted?”

Before the receptionist could answer, Maaz appeared suddenly, his presence commanding attention. Without a word, he grasped Azael’s arm and led him away, cutting the conversation short.

Azael barely had time to process what was happening, but he followed, desperate for any news.

As they neared the room, Azael’s eyes fell on his father, speaking quietly with the doctor.

Overwhelmed, he ran to him, throwing himself into his father’s arms. Tears streamed down his face as he choked out, “Dad… Mom will be okay, right?” His sobs shook him, unstoppable.

His father held him tightly, voice calm but firm, “Everything will be alright, don’t worry. Your mom will get better… just pray to Allah.”

Meanwhile, his father turned to the doctor, concern etched on his face. “Doctor, please ensure that everything is done properly.”

The doctor offered a reassuring nod. “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.” With that, the doctor stepped away, leaving a tense silence that only the sound of Azael’s quiet sobs filled that.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, Azael's sobs hit me like a wave—raw, aching, and impossible to ignore. They echoed off the sterile walls, filling the space with a sorrow so deep it seemed to swallow everything around us. My heart clenched painfully at the sight of him—his shoulders hunched, his body trembling with each sob.

Maaz was beside him, arms wrapped tightly around his friend, offering silent comfort. But nothing seemed to reach Azael at that moment. The hopelessness in the air made it hard to breathe.

Then, as if sensing us, Azael froze. His sobbing stopped abruptly, replaced by a hollow silence. He wiped his face quickly, almost embarrassed by his vulnerability.

His gaze never met mine. Without a word, he pushed himself to his feet, moving stiffly, like he was on autopilot. And then he was gone, walking down the hallway without a backward glance. The emptiness he left behind was suffocating.

I overheard Aria, reaching out to Maaz, her voice laced with concern. How is Azael's mom?"”

Maaz’s response was immediate, his voice taut with worry. "She's in the operating room right now."

“But will she be okay? Aunty will pull through, right?” Aria pressed, her voice trembling.

Maaz’s words were measured, yet heavy with emotion. “The doctor said they will do everything they can. All we can do now is pray.” A single tear escaped his eye.

Aria noticed immediately and gently took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Don't cry, please! Everything will be alright. We need to hold onto hope and pray.”

Fighting back his own tears, Maaz nodded. “Yes… she will be fine. I have complete faith in Allah. I’ve been holding back my tears for Azael’s sake. If I start, who will be there for him?”

He paused for a moment, his chest rising and falling with restrained emotion, then looked at Aria, vulnerability etched across his face. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Aunty means so much to me—she’s like a second mother. I can’t bear the thought of losing her… I’ve already lost my own parents.”

A part of me felt terribly heavy hearing that, my heart aching at the depth of his loss. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, noticing every subtle movement, every tremor in his hands.

Anyone watching closely would see the unspoken bond between him and Azael—the silent love, the protectiveness, the brotherly devotion that needed no explanation. Every subtle gesture, every flicker of his gaze spoke volumes about how deeply he cared.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the operating room. An uneasy silence hung over the waiting area. Azael’s father, worry etched across his face, rushed forward. “Doctor, how is the patient? Is everything alright?”

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Then the doctor’s face softened with a reassuring smile. “The operation was successful, Mr. Khan. Mrs. Khan is out of danger, Allah willing.”

Relief washed over us. Aria, Maaz, and I exchanged a look of gratitude, silently thanking Allah for this miracle.

Azael’s father turned to the doctor again. “Can we see her? Can we meet the patient?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, absolutely. But only one person at a time.”

His eyes quickly scanned the waiting area, and noticing Azael was nowhere in sight, his voice tightened with concern. “Where is Azael?”

Aria quickly answered, “Maaz went to get him.”

And then, like a ray of sunlight breaking through the storm, we heard a sweet, pure voice: “Dad! Dad! Ammi is okay now!”

“I watched, my heart swelling, as Azael rushed into the waiting area.

Tears of joy sparkled in his eyes, and he threw himself into his father’s arms. ‘Mom is okay! Allah has heard our prayers!’ he cried, his voice breaking with relief, and then he finally broke the hug.”

I felt my own eyes sting, moved by the sight of his pure happiness and the way he thanked Allah through his tears.

Just as we were basking in this fleeting moment of relief and joy, my phone suddenly rang, cutting through the calm. Azael’s father glanced briefly toward the ringing phone, curiosity softening his features.

My fingers fumbled as I silenced the call, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Sorry,” I murmured, barely above a whisper.

“App kon ho, beta?” his voice was gentle, yet curious, as if measuring the weight of my presence.

(Who are you, dear?)

Before I could respond, Aria stepped forward, her smile steady and comforting. “This is my friend, Uncle. We came to check on Aunty and to see how she’s doing. Thankfully, she’s much better now.”

A warm, tired smile spread across his face. “Oh, thank you, dear. It means a lot to have you here… knowing she’s out of danger is a relief beyond words.” There was gratitude in his voice, yet an exhaustion lingered beneath, the silent echo of a long, harrowing night.

“But… it’s getting late—almost morning. You should head home. Or, if you prefer, I can have my driver drop you off,” he added, the weight of his concern evident.

My eyes drifted toward Azael, and I caught him mid-conversation with Maaz. The tension that had haunted him all evening was gone, replaced by an effortless joy. His laughter, light and unguarded, danced through the room like music.

“Kitna hot lagta hai yaar, ye hanste huwe.” The thought suddenly popped into my head, even though I fully knew how tense the situation had been just moments ago. My cheeks burned at the realization, and I quickly tried to push the thought aside.

(He looks so handsome when he smiles.)

Before i could get grip on myself, Aria interjected, “Thank you, Uncle, but we came in our car, so we'll be leaving in it.”

Trying to steady my voice, I chimed in. “Please take care of Aunty. And If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let us know.”

He smiled, warm and genuine, and I felt the gratitude radiating from him, a quiet anchor in the whirlwind of the night.

As I turned to leave, 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.

And as he couldn’t hold my gaze any longer, he looked away and turned back to Maaz, his laughter still lighting his face.”

“Your mom is calling,” Aria said softly, nudging me from my daze. “She even called me too, when she couldn’t reach you.”

Then it hit me—I had silenced my phone without even checking the caller ID.

Aria gave me a gentle, encouraging nudge. “Come on, let’s go—you can talk to her at home.”

I nodded in response and with that,

we both turned on our heels and walked away from the hospital, the quiet of the early morning settling around us. The night’s chaos and fear had ebbed, leaving only a fragile, comforting silence and the lingering pulse of everything left unsaid.

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