The BCCI conference room buzzed with energy as the Indian cricket team gathered to discuss their next big matches.
In one corner stood Saltanat, quietly poised with a notepad in hand, her pen resting between her delicate fingers.
She adjusted her glasses that sat perfectly on her nose, her sharp features enhanced by the simplicity of her look-a long pink kurti paired with light blue jeans.
Her hair was tied back in a neat braid, the loose strands framing her milky, slender neck.
Her small jhumkas, adorned with pink pebbles, swayed gently as she moved.
Kabir, leaned casually against the conference table, his eyes inexplicably drawn to her.
His gaze traced the curve of her braid, the sway of her earrings, and the focused expression on her face.
It wasn't the first time Saltanat had commanded his attention, but today it felt different.
His subconscious mocked him. Why are you staring at her like this?
He blinked, trying to shake off the thought.
It's not just a random gaze, his inner voice teased.
She's not just any girl, Kabir.
She's Saltanat.
The girl who never sought his attention, never fawned over him like his countless fans.
Instead, she stood her ground, managing every chaotic situation he brought her way with precision and grace.
Before he could analyze further, the coach walked in, clapping his hands. "Alright, team, listen up!"
The players scrambled to their seats.
Saltanat moved subtly to a corner, her pen poised to jot down notes.
Kabir stole another glance at her before snapping his focus back to the coach.
"We've made it to the semi-finals!" the coach began, his tone both proud and commanding. "Now, to secure a place in the finals, we'll have to defeat South Africa and England. The matches will be held in South Africa, so pack your bags. We are flying out tomorrow."
Cheers erupted among the players, their excitement palpable.
The coach waited for the noise to die down before addressing Saltanat. "Saltanat, anything to add?"
Saltanat stepped forward slightly, her voice steady. "Yes, sir. Do you think it's necessary for me to join this tour?"
The coach smiled. "Absolutely. You're not just Kabir's manager on this trip. The BCCI has decided you'll manage the entire team."
Kabir's head snapped toward the coach. "Wait, what? Why her?"
His tone held a note of irritation he hadn't anticipated. "She's my manager, not the whole team's."
The coach raised an eyebrow. "Kabir, Saltanat is the most qualified person for this role. This is an important tour, and we need someone capable to handle the logistics and keep everyone on track. She's the best choice."
Saltanat looked between the two men, feeling the tension in the air but keeping her composure.
Kabir frowned, his jaw tightening.
He hated the idea of her dividing her attention among the team.
For two years, he'd grown used to her presence solely around him.
The thought of her managing others sparked an unexpected surge of jealousy.
"Fine," he muttered under his breath, looking away. "If that's the decision."
The coach nodded. "Good. Tickets will be emailed. Be ready. Saltanat, we're counting on you."
"Yes, sir," she replied confidently.
As the coach exited, Izaan, approached Saltanat with a broad grin. "You're coming with us? That's fantastic! It's going to be fun having you around."
He patted her shoulder warmly, and she smiled, nodding.
Izaan's protective nature always made her feel at ease.
Kabir watched the exchange, his fists clenching involuntarily.
Since when did this Izzy Pizzy get so close to her?
The way Izaan's casual touch lingered irritated him more than he wanted to admit.
When Izaan left, Saltanat turned to Kabir. "Sir, shall we? There's a lot of packing to do."
Kabir looked at her sharply. "Are you sure you want to come with us?"
She frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"
He hesitated. "I mean... you're a girl. It's a team full of boys. How will you manage everyone?"
She tilted her head, amused. "Sir, if I can handle you, I think I can handle the rest of the team."
Her words, spoken with such quiet confidence, struck a nerve.
He gritted his teeth. "Fine. By all means, join us."
He turned abruptly and walked away.
Saltanat watched his retreating figure, confusion knitting her brows.
"Ab kya naya daura pad gaya inhe?" she murmured, shaking her head before heading off to prepare for the journey.
("What new tantrum has he thrown now?")
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Saltanat stood in Kabir's room, meticulously folding and arranging his clothes in his travel bag.
The bed was scattered with his belongings-shirts, trousers, socks, and an assortment of toiletries.
Her movements were swift and precise, but her expression gave away her irritation.
Kabir, sprawled lazily on the couch with his long legs stretched out, was engrossed in a game on his phone.
Every now and then, he'd sneak a glance at her, amused by the annoyed frown creasing her face.
She sighed loudly, muttering under her breath, "Is he a grown man or a child? Can't he pack his own bag? No, of course not. Mr. Kabir Yusuf Rehmani has to order me around like some nanny."
Kabir bit back a smile, thoroughly enjoying her little outburst.
Her furrowed brows and pursed lips were so endearing he had to stop himself from laughing out loud.
He watched as she neatly folded his shirts and placed them in the bag, followed by his pants, socks, and other essentials.
She even organized his toiletries-perfume, hair oil, shampoo, face cream, sunscreen-all neatly packed into separate pouches.
Her attention to detail didn't escape him, and something about the scene filled him with a sense of warmth.
Finally, she zipped up the bag and looked at him. "Everything is ready," she declared.
Just as she was about to close it, Kabir's voice stopped her.
"Wait, Ghazi. One thing is missing," he said with a mischievous smirk.
She frowned, turning to him. "What now, sir?"
"My underwear," he replied, his grin widening.
Her eyes widened in shock, and Kabir couldn't help but laugh at her reaction.
She looked like a startled baby panda, her cheeks puffed out in indignation.
He had to grip the couch armrest to stop himself from reaching out and pulling her cheeks.
"Aapke andar zara bhi sharam bachi hai ya nahi?" she shot back, glaring at him.
("Do you have even a shred of shame left in you?")
He chuckled, completely unbothered. "Arre, what's there to be shy about? It's just underwear-a piece of cloth. Tum nahi pehenti kya?"
("Hey, what's there to be shy about? It's just underwear-a piece of cloth. Don't you wear it too?")
"Sir!" she yelled, her face flushing crimson.
His laughter echoed through the room as he leaned back, thoroughly amused. "Come on, Ghazi. Take a chill pill. And anyway, we live in a progressive world, right? I know you wear a bra and panty under your clothes, so what's the difference? Same-same, but different."
He broke into another fit of laughter.
Saltanat lowered her gaze, her cheeks burning.
She already knew he was shameless, but this level of shamelessness was unexpected.
Yet, as her eyes darted back to him, she found herself captivated by the sight of Kabir laughing so freely.
It was rare to see him like this.
He usually wore a smirk or a sardonic smile, and his laughter was a sound she hadn't heard often.
Before she knew it, she was smiling too, caught up in his infectious joy.
At that moment, Mehmood entered the room, carrying a tray with three cups-two coffees and one tea for Saltanat.
He stopped in his tracks, taking in the sight of his son laughing unabashedly with Saltanat.
A sense of peace washed over him.
It felt like ages since he'd seen Kabir so happy, so unguarded.
"Aree," Mehmood said, a smile spreading across his face, "mujhe bhi batao, kis baat pe hasa ja raha hai?"
("Hey, tell me too, what's so funny?")
Kabir looked at his father, still chuckling. "Nothing, Baba. Just that Ghazi here is being adorably shy."
Saltanat's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red as she looked down, avoiding his gaze.
Mehmood chuckled. "Accha, bas. Meri beti ko pareshaan mat karo."
("Alright, that's enough. Don't trouble my daughter.")
He turned to Saltanat, handing her the cup of tea. "Saltanat beta, yeh lijiye, aapki chai."
("Saltanat dear, here you go, your tea.")
She smiled warmly, grateful for the distraction. "Thank you, Uncle."
Kabir's eyes softened as he watched the two interact.
He had always considered his father his only family, but somewhere in the midst of this arrangement, Saltanat had started becoming a part of that family too.
And for the first time in a long time, Kabir felt like he belonged.
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Saltanat was at home, sitting in the living room with her family, a mixture of excitement and hesitation in the air.
She had just told them about her upcoming South Africa tour.
Her parents exchanged glances, happy but slightly worried.
"Ammi, Abbu, please don't worry," she said reassuringly. "Main apna khayal rakhungi. Aur waise bhi, Coach Sir aur Kabir Sir sab saath mein hain. You don't have to worry about anything."
("Mom, Dad, please don't worry. I'll take care of myself. And anyway, Coach Sir and Kabir Sir are there with me. You don't need to worry about anything.")
Her mother sighed, her concern evident. "Beta, hum khush hain, lekin tu pehli baar itni door ja rahi hai. Khud ka dhyan rakhna."
("Dear, we are happy, but you are going so far for the first time. Take care of yourself.")
Saltanat smiled and nodded. "Ammi, sab theek hoga. Aur waise bhi, aap logon ko bhi toh aana hai match dekhne. Last match ki tickets main Rehmat ke through bhej dungi."
("Mom, everything will be fine. And anyway, you all have to come to watch the match too. I'll send the tickets for the last match to Rehmat.")
Her father's stern expression softened as he gave her an approving nod. "Bas khush raho, aur apna focus kaam pe rakhna."
("Just stay happy, and keep your focus on work.")
Meanwhile, Rehmat was the happiest of them all.
She practically tackled Saltanat in a hug, her face glowing with excitement. "Appi, aap mujhe Kabir Sir se milwayengi na?" she asked eagerly.
("Appi, will you introduce me to Kabir Sir?")
Saltanat chuckled, patting her sister's head. "Haan haan, milwa dungi. Ab chal, mujhe packing karni hai. Kal subah nikalna hai."
("Yes, yes, I'll introduce you. Now come on, I need to pack. We have to leave tomorrow morning.")
Rehmat nodded enthusiastically and followed Saltanat to her room to help her pack.
Together, they folded clothes, tucked in essentials, and talked about the upcoming tour.
The next morning, the family gathered at Mumbai International Airport to see Saltanat off.
The media buzzed around the area, cameras flashing, but strict security ensured no one could get close to the players.
After heartfelt hugs and goodbyes, Saltanat and her team moved inside the terminal and eventually boarded their flight.
Saltanat's seat was next to Izaan's.
As the team settled in, Kabir, walking down the aisle, noticed this and felt a wave of irritation.
His jaw tightened, and without missing a beat, he approached Izaan.
"Hey, Izzy," Kabir said with an unusually polite tone. "Can we exchange seats?"
Izaan raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "And why exactly?"
Kabir scratched the back of his head, feigning discomfort. "Kyunki... mujhe window seat pe baithne se vomit hoti hai. So, please?"
("Because... I feel nauseous when I sit in the window seat. So, please?")
Izaan snorted. "Then exchange with the person next to you."
Kabir shook his head quickly. "Nahi na, usse kyun pareshaan karna? Achha thodi lagta hai."
("No, why trouble him? It's bad manners")
Izaan gave him a pointed look. "Oh, right. But it's okay to bother me, huh?"
Kabir grinned unabashedly. "Of course! We're enemies; thoda bohot toh chalta hai hamare beech."
("Of course! We're enemies; a little bit of it is okay between us.")
Izaan chuckled, shaking his head in exasperation. "Fine, fine. Just don't throw up on the flight," he said, standing to swap seats.
As Izaan moved, Kabir sat down beside Saltanat, a triumphant smile playing on his lips.
Saltanat, who had witnessed the entire exchange, stared at him in shock.
He turned to her, grinning. "Hello, Ghazi."
Saltanat raised an eyebrow. "Aapko kab se window seat pe vomit hone lagi?"
("When did you start feeling nauseous in the window seat?")
Kabir shrugged casually. "Bas abhi abhi."
("Just now.")
Saltanat sighed, shaking her head. "Aapko bas mauka chahiye mujhe pareshaan karne ka."
("You just need an opportunity to trouble me.")
Kabir chuckled, leaning closer. "Of course. Vaise bhi, tumhe pareshaan karne ka copyright sirf mere paas hai. Aur kisi ke paas nahi."
("Of course. Anyway, the copyright to trouble you is only with me. No one else has it.")
His voice dropped to a whisper, and Saltanat felt a shiver run down her spine.
He was so close that she could feel the warmth radiating off him.
Her heart skipped a beat, and Kabir, ever perceptive, smirked knowingly.
He could sense the effect his presence had on her.
It thrilled him that his proximity made her uneasy, in a way only he could.
His smirk deepened as he leaned back into his seat, satisfied.
Whatever it took to be close to her, Kabir was more than willing to do.
Being in her presence made everything better, and for that, he'd go to any lengths.
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