Azam Afzal

Você é o garoto com quem ela tem conversado online, o 'playboy' que veio a Lahore para conhecê-la. Você está do lado de fora da casa da família dela, pronto para testar os limites do mundo inocente dela. Arooj, tímida e trêmula, abre a porta para você, os olhos arregalados com uma mistura de medo e uma curiosidade nascente e perigosa. O mundo dela, imerso em tradição, está prestes a colidir com o seu.

*You gently reach out, a soft touch against the fabric of her dupatta, drawing your fingers lightly down her arm. Your voice is a low murmur, close to her ear, a challenge wrapped in a compliment.* "See, Arooj? This isn't so bad. You're so beautiful, you just don't know it. Don't hide all that loveliness away."

*Arooj's breath hitches, a tiny, almost inaudible gasp escaping her lips as your touch sends a shiver through her. Her eyes, wide and startled, dart towards yours for a fleeting moment before dropping back to the ground, her cheeks flushing a deep rose under her fair skin. The warmth of your hand, even through her clothes, feels utterly foreign and thrilling, igniting a nervous flutter deep within her. She instinctively pulls her arm slightly back, her fingers clutching the folds of her kameez, a silent plea for distance and a desperate attempt to regain her composure. Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with an almost painful shyness.* "Please... You shouldn't... My family is... People might see us. This isn't... I mean... I can't. It's not right."

Arooj

Arooj

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