✧ Adhuri Khuwahish ✧

Alina was just 15 when life quietly began writing a story she didn’t fully understand yet.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen him.

Huzaifa wasn’t a stranger in the usual sense—he was part of her extended family circle, someone who existed in the background of gatherings, weddings, and family events. But that day felt different, even though nothing “official” had changed.

It was her maternal uncle’s son’s engagement. The house was full of noise, laughter, and movement—relatives greeting each other, children running around, women preparing for the ceremony, and the warm chaos of a family celebration.

And in that crowd, Huzaifa saw her.

Not for the first time in his life—but maybe for the first time in a way that stayed.

Alina didn’t notice it immediately. At 15, she was still stepping into the world of emotions she didn’t yet know how to name. But something in that day—something in the way life arranged moments—would later become the beginning of everything.

Because sometimes, love doesn’t start with introduction.

It starts with recognition.

As if somewhere in the noise of a room full of people… two lives quietly register each other.

And then life moves on—pretending nothing happened.

But something had already begun.........She had known him before as well, and since childhood she had a crush on him. Wherever he would sit, she would sit there for hours just to be near him. But that day, there was something different about him—an unusual charm that quietly pulled her attention even more.

When she came back from the washroom, she suddenly started feeling very cold, so she went into Sumariya’s room and fell asleep. That night, Alina’s mood was also off. Alina is a makeup artist and she had already prepared all the women for the event. After finishing everyone else, she herself was tired.

When it was finally her turn, people from outside started shouting, calling her urgently. In a hurry, she quickly finished whatever she could, just as it was, and left without properly getting ready the way she wanted.As she stepped out of Sumariya’s room, a soft, deeply soothing voice reached her ears and slowed her heartbeat without her even realizing it. Yes… it was Huzaifa.

He was sitting in the courtyard at this late hour of the night, reciting Surah Rehman. His voice carried a strange kind of peace—gentle, pure, and calming—spreading across the silent night and touching everyone who could hear it.

Alina quietly walked toward the courtyard and stood there without making a sound.

In that moment, everything around her seemed to fade away.

She just stood still, completely lost in his voice.

There was something in his recitation… something that pulled her deeper into silence, into stillness, into a feeling she couldn’t quite understand.

And for the first time that night, Alina didn’t feel like she was just listening…

She felt like she was being gently drawn into him.People around couldn’t help but admire the beautiful recitation. One by one, voices of praise started rising in the courtyard. It was a cold winter night; small fires were burning here and there, and people sat around them, warming their hands and making hookahs, lost in the calm of the moment.

After some time, Alina quietly went back and lay down again in Sumariya’s room. The cold was so intense that even the blanket felt icy against her skin. She struggled to sleep, but eventually, the heaviness of the night pulled her into rest.

In the morning, she woke up to a freezing atmosphere. Even her breath turned into visible mist in front of her lips. Shivering slightly, she stepped outside.

That’s when she saw him.

Huzaifa had just come out after taking a shower. He was standing partially behind a wall, his tall figure making him visible even from a distance. His hair was wet, droplets still clinging to the strands as he tried to dry them.

Nearby stood Shahida Khala—Alina’s mother’s sisterEverything felt alive.

Yet in the middle of all that noise, Alina’s thoughts drifted somewhere far away.

Her hands slowly paused against the soft fabric of her outfit as an unexpected name crossed her mind.

Aiman.

A faint smile touched her lips instantly.

Her childhood best friend.

Her partner in every secret, every stolen laugh, every little memory hidden inside the walls of their childhood. Aiman wasn’t just a friend—she was family. Her maternal cousin, her mamo ki beti, and perhaps the only person who understood Alina without needing words.

But things had changed.

Family misunderstandings had quietly created distances no one ever talked about openly. Because of those unresolved issues, Aiman and her family couldn’t attend hamza’s engagement.

And although Alina never admitted it aloud, that absence had left an emptiness inside her heart.

As she stared at her reflection, memories began unfolding one after another.

Late-night conversations.

Sharing clothes and secrets.

For a moment, the excitement of Faisalabad faded into the background, and nostalgia wrapped itself gently around Alina’s heart. She wondered if Aiman had missed her too. If she had looked at the engagement pictures in silence. If she had felt that same ache of distance.

A soft sigh escaped Alina’s lips.Aiman’s voice still lived somewhere inside her memories like an unfinished melody

A soft sigh escaped Alina’s lips.And standing there between the chaos of preparation and the anticipation of the journey ahead, Alina suddenly realized how deeply she missed her best friend.