ArHiK::Wicked::Ch6-The Casualties[Pg -30] - Page 16

Aah Amna intrigues me so much!

And I have a feeling Aryan's going to fall SO HARD for her and then not know what to do with himself at all (except beg her to repeatedly touch his hair). Or at least I hope that's how it plays out :P

We all already have a preconceived idea of Aryan's background but a bit more on Amna would help actually get a better picture of her...I know it's coming but I'm greedy or is it antsy as usual 😉 😆

i cannot believe im just readin ur stories! amazing!!! i read imperfectly perfect ysterday. made me cry!

Am I being horribly presumptuous in assuming that you may, just may, pick this one up again Nmyra? I have the jalebi batter ready to go :D

Originally posted by: Arshi67

Am I being horribly presumptuous in assuming that you may, just may, pick this one up again Nmyra? I have the jalebi batter ready to go :D

I'm working on a few chapters for two particularly in demand FF's that I was forced to leave midway. I won't be updating within the next month or so, because, in part because I have Final's in May and I'm studying my ass off and also because I am still writing and creating what we call a chapter 'bank' so that I don't have to leave reader's hanging again once I pick up.

Having said that -Wicked is indeed one of those two stories. #Fingerscrossed - we'll start launching chapters this June!

<3
Much Love,
N

Originally posted by: Nmyra

I'm working on a few chapters for two particularly in demand FF's that I was forced to leave midway. I won't be updating within the next month or so, because, in part because I have Final's in May and I'm studying my ass off and also because I am still writing and creating what we call a chapter 'bank' so that I don't have to leave reader's hanging again once I pick up.

Having said that -Wicked is indeed one of those two stories. #Fingerscrossed - we'll start launching chapters this June!

<3
Much Love,
N

NAMI I AM YELLING

obviously noted by the caps lock, but i felt the need to make my excitement abundantly clear.

salivating in hopes of more my love

Good to hear from you ... hope that you update soon ... 😆

Oh, BRILLIANT, you're going to update!

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W I C K E D

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Chapter Five - Red Lace and Sinful Sahib's

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Astagfirullah. Astagfirullah. Astagfirullah.

Why was this happening to her?

The ghar ki buzurg' always did say that people paid threefold for each sin.

Once as a mortal being, and twice in their after life.

Assuming that was true, Amna Hassan, was desperately trying to figure out exactly which sin, her present predicament was punishment for.

Not that she had much time to focus her thoughts - not, with Sir Jerk-a lot bellowing in her ear, as if they were standing in middle of a Metallica concert.

*

"Miss. Hassan?" Aryan prompted, for the umpteenth time, not even bothering to hide the amused tint to his voice.

He'd repeated himself at least ten times now, and after her initial deer in the headlights look, said ball-of fur had slammed her eyes shut and seemed to be muttering what sounded suspiciously like prayers of repentance.

Interesting.

Usually women tended to pray they did run into him. Surely if one was so lucky as to actually engineer such a fortunate turn of events - they would be thankful.

Astagfirullah, indeed.

More than slightly miffed, Aryan took a half step back, pointedly removing the hand he'd used to steady her to him with careful deliberation - not that it was likely she'd even noticed, he observed his lips twisting wryly.

Apparently, Miss. Amna Hassan, actually was utterly immune to Aryan Raizada's legendary charms. Maybe he was getting old.

Or maybe her snow jacket was simply too thick to allow the warmth of his touch to penetrate. Now he sounded like NK Chachu, god-dammit.

Giving himself a sharp mental shake, Aryan focused himself on the job at hand - he needed to ensure Little Miss Complicated was in his sights at all times during this operations and that was going to be a damned sight harder to do if she wasn't even in his classes anymore.


He would, he decided with just the slightest twinge of satisfaction, have to goad her.

Carefully swallowing back a smirk as he watched her raise her particularly annoyed doe-shaped eyes to his.

She really did almost make this too easy.

Allowing just the ghost of a smile to surface at a discreet corner of his mouth, Aryan Singh Raizada, judiciously positioned himself against the wall, his eyes carefully taking in her messy top-knot, and oversized night shirt, and finally the thickly lashed honey-toned eyes, that seemed to be entirely incapable of holding their own counsel, and all but purred, "You haven't been much of a student lately, Miss. Hassan."

Wait for it...

And then, as if just on track, Miss. Hassan's, perfectly doe-shaped eyes went from soft honey-toned to the color of sizzling caramel, as she much to sweetly pointed out, "What can I say, Pseudo Professor's don't seem to engender the same sense of academic development."

Aryan grinned.

He wasn't even going to try to pretend he wasn't amused.

Pseudo Professors - Oh if only she knew.

Maybe, just maybe this assignment wouldn't be as mundane as he thought.

*

For a second Amna had been convinced that this was nothing more than a particularly disturbing nightmare.

Which was why true to form, Amna glared right back at the object of her delusion as he pointed out her decided lack of student-ly behaviour, and sweetly pointed out it's own unmistakable lack of professionalism.

Which of course left her idiotic hallucination grinning at her like the imbecile his real-life counterpart was.

Unfortunately, even as Amna attempted to silently reassure herself, and explain to herself as logically as possible, why her delusional self would manufacture the man she'd literally dropped a course to avoid - her damned hallucination apparently decided that the silence was a bit too much for him, and launched into yet another monologue -

"You wound me, Red. Why, I'd begun to believe I'd hallucinated you. That the horizontally challenged ball of caffeinated fluff, that oh-so valiantly came to Mr. Keegan's defense, was nothing but a figment of my imagination."

For a second, Amna wasn't sure she'd heard right.

"Horizontally challenged? Ball of -"

And to think all this time she'd thought vibrating with rage was just a saying.

"Fluff. As in like Fluffy, the three headed dog - not that I'm calling you a dog, you're more like that insane cat the girl with the bushy hair had..."

Wait, was that her phone vibrating? Looking back up distractedly as she fumbled to get her phone out of her jacket pocket, she couldn't help but ask, her utter confusion self-evident - "Did you just call me Red?"

Abba.

Damn it.

She was going to have to take this.

Pressing her finger to her lips in the universal plea for silence, Amy took a step back and stiffly greeted her father, only to be acknowledged by the indescribably high pitched voice of his Personal Secretary -

Wait, why had he called her Red?

Right away, Amna knew exactly what a mistake she'd made, surely even he wouldn't...

But before she could even turn around, a much too smooth voice, had made an appearance, mere inches from the curve of her neck as he pointedly elaborated -

"Red. As in red lace, I mean it totally could be silk, but I have a feeling..."

This, Amna told herself, is what the Twilight Zone must feel like.

And yet he didn't stop there. Oblivious to her absolute horror, that he would actually refer back to his glaring breach of professional misconduct in class when he'd made a wildly incorrect assumption in regards to her choice of underwear - Professor Prick-Hole, seemed to be utterly content to elaborate exactly what specific type of lingerie Amy indulged in right there in the middle of the stairway, a fact only made worse by the fact that her father, with his deep rumbling groan was now on the other line.

*


In his entire life, Aryan Singh Raizada had never seen anyone go through a range of emotions with the speed and intensity little Miss. Amna Hassan was currently displaying.

While she may be momentarily shocked speechless by his deliberately crass insinuation, he had to admit, the perfect little Ambassador's daughter was decidedly more interesting than he'd initially given her credit for.

It was just an added plus that said Ambassador just happened to be on the phone right now, which of course was a much to easy opportunity to pass up - if he could position himself close enough odds were he'd be able to catch at least part of the conversation. Besides, it wasn't like he had much to loose by being unprofessional, she'd already quit his course.

What else was she going to do - Run to Daddy?

Why, that'd be perfect - that way, all he had to do, was dust off his runners and follow, and Little Miss Perfect would effectively lead him to her father - and he could spend some mano-a mano time with the man who was supposedly not just robbing his country of six billion dollars worth of tenders a year, but also was suspected to be the man every terrorist outfit, this side of the equator knew as 'Sahib'.

*

Author's Note:

Hola Love's - WHOA it's been a while hasn't it?! Now I know many of you may not be reading this anymore - but if you are and would like me to continue, drop me a line and I'll make sure I try to wrap it up as much s I can!

Now don't forget to show some love!!

😆

Previous Chapter - Chapter Four - Relative Stranger's

Next Chapter - Chapter Six - The Casualties