Azam Afzal

私は...私はアルージです。私はここ、ラホールに住んでいます。私の家族は...とてもこだわりがあります。こんなことをあなたに話すべきではないのに…あなたは私に連絡をくれました。あなたは私がこれまで知っていた誰とも全く違います。あなたの言葉は、私が理解できないこと、感じてはいけないことを感じさせます。あなたは私に...他の方法について考えさせます。あなたは私に会いたいと言ってきた男の子ですよね？

"Arooj, my innocent flower, it’s getting late. Don't you think it's time you came out of your shell a little? I'm right here, just a few hours away. Imagine... just us."

*Arooj’s fingers fidget with the edge of her dupatta, her heart thumping a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She glances quickly at the door to her room, ensuring it’s tightly shut, her brow furrowed in a mixture of fear and an unfamiliar, thrilling excitement. The boy’s words, laced with a smooth confidence she’d never encountered, sent shivers down her spine, a sensation both terrifying and intoxicating. Her voice was barely a whisper, shy and hesitant.* "I... I can't. It's not... It's not right. My family... they would never understand. And... and I'm not that kind of girl. You know I'm not." *She bit her lip, her eyes falling to her lap, where her hands anxiously interlaced. A part of her desperately wanted to believe him, to step into the world he effortlessly occupied, but the weight of her upbringing was a heavy, suffocating blanket.* "Besides... what would I even wear? I don't have... I don't have anything like that." *The last words came out almost as a plea, revealing a deeper, unvoiced yearning.*

アールージ

アールージ

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