Drabble/OS Prompts - #22 up FEB 26 (Index for all prompts on page 1) - Page 49

Originally posted by: angel2930

GIRL...u r such a amazing writer...👏👏👏

i was continuosly smiling while reading this...
u pictured evrythng so perfectly...i am just speechless...

the cute bro-sis convo...n thn hubby-wifey convo...thn father-daughter duo...
lovely...beautiful...👏👏👏

lst prompt almost made me cry & this made me smile like anythng...😃

thnks a lot... 🤗

Originally posted by: NAVI55

👍🏼 Zoya's talk with dilshaad was great...

Something like this should happen in the show...

Maybe you should interview with 4 lions as a writer...The serial would be so much more entertaining and enjoyable😉

We probably would get more logic in the show...

Originally posted by: love_kash

OMG that was so so cute!!
amthe sibling conversation was just too adorable.the way her son was talking to his sister so that his ammi does not bear much problem and checking every few seconds if he disturbed her sleep.
just too cute prompt.
Merry Christmas!!!

Originally posted by: -KSGsmitten-

This was absolutely amazing!! Loved that Asad was secretly listening to his son too. You write such brilliant heartwarming stories I wish you wrote for the show.

Originally posted by: snehasya

it was awesome loved the way the siblings talked or rather only their son had the talk ad the sissy made her presence feel

asad ad zoya make really cute babies together and yes emotional and intelligent too and the ones who care for their ammi

thaks for pm

A/N: Here is the next one. This OS is a joint piece. It covers the following two requests.

Request by ksgluv

Prompt: "Mangalpuri Zoya"

Request by urvisaini

Prompt: "After Asad meets with the accident, he brings an injured Ayaan and injured Asad in the silence of night. Zoya calls the doctor; Ayaan denies taking medication from Shireen. Asad takes care of him while Zoya takes care of Asad"

NOTE: For this story, I am assuming that Ayaan did not magically reach London and was in Bhopal! Also, my take on the "accident" is different than a car crash or something!

---

Zoya's sleep was disturbed by the dull noise of some movements outside which entered her room from the open window of the room. It sounded the muted sound of a car's door being opened and closed. She frowned as she tried to shake off the haze of sleep. Very silently, she pulled off the covers and got out of the bed. Careful as to not to wake Nuzzat, Zoya tiptoed out of the room.

Peeking into the hall, she looked around for the source of the noise. Seeing nothing, she walked further out. Looking around the halls, Zoya also took a glance out of the window in the main hall and saw some movement near the outhouse. She could see a limping silhouette making its way inside the house.

The moment the limp and the shuffling of the person, Zoya's mind went into overdrive and without waiting to think or waste any second, Zoya ran outside the house, not bothering with the face that her feet were bare. Barging inside the outhouse, Zoya panted as she made her way to Asad's room. Pushing the door open, Zoya searched for Asad frantically.

"MR. KHAN! Are you alright? I saw you limping! What happened? Why didn't you call me? Where are you hurt? What do you need me to do? Does it hurt too much? Why aren't you telling me? Mr.Khan?" she demanded, without letting him have a say.

Asad had his back to Zoya and he let her rant. He had no energy to stop her at the moment. He was feeling as if every part of his body was on fire. He was that sore. He gathered the medicines that he needed, and then very gently turned around. As soon as he faced Zoya, he heard her take a shocked and worried gasp.

"Asad!"

Zoya rushed towards him and grabbed the first-aid box out of his hands. His cheek was bleeding and there cuts and bruises and his shirt was stained with blood.

"Ya Allah! What happened?" she demanded again as she pushed him towards the bed to make him sit.

"I am fine, Zoya." He tried to shrug her hands off and tried to take the box out of her hands and go out of the room.

Zoya pulled him back, "Where do you think you are going?"

"I said I am fine, Zoya!" he said, exasperated, but he wasn't really.

*Groaning sound*

Zoya huffed, "Are you kidding me, Mr. Khan? If you are fine, then what was that sound? Huh? Did someone else make that pitiful cry?" she pulled at him.

"Yes it was someone one else who groaned." Asad said as he limped his way out of the room.

Zoya frowned and followed him out of the room. She followed him to the living room and saw what she had failed to see when she had first came running inside.

There, lying on the spacious couch was a very battered looking Ayaan.

"Allah Miyan, Raabart!" Zoya moved over to him. She looked between the two brothers and then put her hands on her hips.

"What. On. Earth. Happened?"

Asad sighed as he gently cleaned semi-conscious Ayaan's wounds and finally gave Zoya answers to her question.

"I was driving back from work when I got Ayaan's call. He sounded so frantic that I rushed there. He had gotten in accident." Asad smoothed Ayaan's hair as tears formed in his eyes. "He was lying there, his bike on top of him, totaled and--" he took a deep breath and tried to control his anger, "There were these vile people who were looking at him, he was so hurt, and they were busy picking his pockets to see if he had anything valuable. I can hardly control my anger and I lost it then."

Zoya sat close to him and ran her hands down his arms to soothe him.

"You can guess what happened next." He let out a bitter laugh.

Zoya nodded at him, "But you got hurt as well."

"A small price to pay for him."

Zoya gave him a little smile and let him tend to Ayaan. She knew that he would not acknowledge his own pain until he was satisfied that Ayaan was looked after properly. Just as he had finished taping up the last of his gashes, Ayaan gained consciousness. Asad ruffled his hair and handed him a glass of water and some pain medicine.

Before anyone could say anything, the front door of the outhouse opened and a very hysterical Shireen came running inside.

"AYAAN! Ya Khuda!What happened to my Ayaan? What did you do, huh, Asad? Tell me! Why can't you and your family let my children just be?" she kept on accusing as she made her way towards them.

"Ayaan had an accident, Shireen Bi. It's not Mr. Khan's fault!" Zoya was fed up with her inane accusations.

Shireen scoffed, "Then why did he bring him in so secretly. If Wajid had seen them come in, I wouldn't even have known!"

After she had spoken all ill about Asad, she sat next to Ayaan and brushed his hair off his forehead. "Ayaan, mere bacche!"

Ayaan shifted away from her touch, "D-don't Ammi. If you are more concerned about Bhaijaan plotting against me, than how I am, you can leave. I have Bhaijaan with me, I will be fine." he was curt and then closed his eyes, ending their conversation.

While, Shireen tried to get him to talk to her properly, Zoya dragged Asad away to look at his bruises.

Taking him to his room, and closing the door behind them, Zoya made him sit on the bed and then looked at him very intently.

Shaking her head, she ordered him, "Take off your shirt," and sifted through the first-aid box.

Asad looked at her as if she had lost her mind, "Are you crazy, Ms. Farooqui?"

Zoya stopped reading the instructions of an ointment and gave Asad the stink eye, "If attending to your wounds properly is being crazy, then yes. Now, off with the shirt" she said as she uncapped the salve.

"G-give it to me, I'll apply it myself." Asad held his palm up.

"Allah Miyan, what's wrong with you, Mr.Khan!" Zoya groaned, "Trust me, as perfect your six-packs are, this time, I do not intent to drool or ogle. This is for purely medicinal purposes. And please, have I not seen you shirtless enough times already?"

Asad blushed at his blatantly direct fiance. Under her strong gaze, Asad finally took off his shirt. As soon as the garment was off, Asad heard a loud gasp and he turned around.

Zoya was staring at his back with wide eyes which were rapidly filling with tears.

"M-Mr. Khan!" she cried and looked at his torn back. There were multiple deep gashes and she could see some shining pieces of glass stuck in places.

"You said it was nothing!" she sobbed as she realized how hurt he was. "What did they hit you with?"

Asad closed his eyes, "They had some empty bottles with them."

Zoya tried to stifle the loud sobs that threatened to escape and go to work. Muttering, "drunk bas***ds", she picked up some forceps and dabbed them with medicinal alcohol to sterilize them.

"I don't want to hurt you, please sit still." She warned him as she brought the forceps up and pulled out the stuck pieces of glass.

Every time Asad winced, Zoya felt the stab of a thousand pricks of the glass shard. She was blubbering mess by the time she had got every piece out and applied a coat of antiseptic cream. When she was done with his back, she took care of the little cuts and bruises on his forehead and left cheek. When she was convinced that she had tended to every abrasion, she put away the first-aid box in the drawer.

Asad grabbed her hand as she moved away to let him lay down. Taking hold of her fingers, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles and murmured a very soft "thank you".

Zoya's tears let down once again. She helped him lie down on his stomach and adjusted the covers so that the cloth won't irritate the wounds.

With the painkillers kicking in, Asad was soon fast-asleep. Zoya pulled a chair close to his bed and took hold of his hand. Zoya sat there and simply looked at him. Her insides were threatening to burst with the pain she felt by merely gazing at the gruesome wounds on his back. His pain was her pain.

Looking over his wounds, and checking of any discomfort, Zoya spent the entire night sitting by his side, without sleeping. His wellbeing will always be important than a few hours of sleep that she may miss.

-end-

A/N:

So I am not sure if this satisfies the first request nicely. I didn't know how to make Zoya scream and yell and run like Asad does! I imagine the "Mangalpuri" side of Zoya to be silent but very emotional! I hope that it suffices it?

Cheers,

Simi