Haal Kya Hai Dilon Ka — Chapter 9

This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are fictional.

---

Falling Without Wanting

2 AM

The house breathed in the deep, slow rhythm of sleep. Ceiling fans whirred behind closed doors. Somewhere, a tap dripped. The corridor stretched empty under the dim glow of a single nightlight.

Haniya crept through it like a shadow.

Bare feet silent on the cool tile, she reached the door to Sami and Aarib's room and pressed it open just wide enough to slip through. The hinges barely whispered.

Inside, two beds. Two sleeping figures.

Sami lay sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his face, already lost to the world. Aarib was curled slightly toward the wall, breaths even, features slack in a way they never were during the day.

Haniya stood over him, hands on her hips.

How dare he.

How dare he sleep so peacefully after making promises he hadn't kept.

She crouched beside his bed and shook his shoulder. "Aarib bhai. Aarib bhai."

He stirred, brow furrowing. His eyes cracked open—heavy, confused, struggling to focus in the dark. She watched recognition flicker across his face, followed by bewilderment.

"Aap so rahe the?" she whispered. (Were you sleeping?)

He stared at her for a long beat. Then, voice thick with sleep, he muttered, "Kya lagta hai?" and rolled toward the wall, pulling the blanket over his head. (What does it look like?)

Haniya grabbed the blanket and tugged it back down. "Toh kyun so rahe hain aap?" she hissed. "Driving kaun sikhayega mujhe? Kyun wada kiya tha sikhaunga jab wada pura hi nahi karna tha?" (Then why are you sleeping? Who will teach me driving? Why did you promise to teach me when you weren't going to keep the promise?)

He turned back to her, slow and groggy, one eye barely open. "Bilkul sikhaunga. Zaroor sikhaunga. Lekin din mein. Raat ko nahin." (I'll definitely teach you. Definitely. But during the day. Not at night.)

Behind them, Sami groaned and shifted, mumbling into his pillow, "Aarib... phone pe baat karni hai to kamre se bahar dafa ho..." (Aarib... if you have to talk on the phone, get out of the room...)

Haniya dropped like a stone, ducking behind Aarib's side of the bed. She pressed her back against the wall, holding her breath.

Aarib watched her, then glanced at Sami's still form. When no further sound came, he whispered, "Dekha? Good night." He started to turn away again. (See?)

She grabbed his arm. "Lekin din mein aapke paas time nahin hota, mere paas bhi nahin hota. Traffic bhi hoti hai." Her whisper turned into a whine. She pressed her cold hands against his neck. (But during the day you don't have time, I don't have time either. There's also traffic.)

He flinched and shrugged her off. "Haniya."

She kept going. "Chalein na. Please." (Let's go, please.)

Aarib sat up slightly, pointing a finger at her in the dark. "Haniya, main Sami ki permission ke baghair is waqt aapko bahar nahin le ja sakta. Acha nahin lagta aise." (Haniya, I can't take you out at this time without Sami's permission. It doesn't feel right like this.)

"Woh kuch nahin kahenge aapko. Sach mein." She turned him back to face her, persistent as ever. "Aapke saath to pehle bhi gayi thi main na." (He won't say anything to you. Really. I've gone with you before, haven't I?)

"Toh tab bhi usse puchke hi gaye the hum. Yeh raat ko chori-chhupe jaana—" He shook his head. "Main aise kaam nahin karta. Pehle permission." (Then too we went after asking him. This sneaking out at night—I don't do such things. First permission.)

She opened her mouth to argue.

He cut her off. "No. Good night." And patted her head once, firm and final.

Haniya huffed.

Fine.

If she needed permission, she'd get permission.

Aarib watched her rise, suspicion flickering behind his half-closed eyes. He shifted, pretending to settle back into sleep, but his gaze followed her through slitted lids. If Sami woke now—if any of this went wrong—

Haniya padded to Sami's bedside. She crouched and shook him gently. "Bhaiya."

He hummed, not waking.

"Bhaiya, aapke card se saman order kar loon?" (Bhaiya, shall I order something with your card?)

A drowsy murmur. "Hmm."

She glanced back at Aarib, a tiny smirk forming. Then, raising the stakes: "Bhaiya, kal college se chutti kar loon?" (Bhaiya, shall I take a day off from college tomorrow?)

Another hum. "Hmm."

Aarib's eyes had fully opened now. He watched, disbelieving.

She delivered the final blow. "Main Aarib bhai ke saath burger khane bahar jaun?" (Shall I go out to eat burgers with Aarib bhai?)

Sami shifted, still deeply asleep, and hummed his agreement. "Hmm."

Haniya turned to Aarib, grinning wide, and gave a little shake of her head. "Chalein?" she mouthed. (Let's go?)

He sat up properly now, staring at her like she'd just performed a magic trick. "Yeh cheating hai," he whispered. "Neend mein di hai usne permission." (This is cheating. He gave permission in his sleep.)

"Di toh hai na." She snapped, soft but firm. "Ab aap bahane mat karein." (He did give it. Now don't make excuses.)

Aarib looked at Sami—still dead to the world, still humming in his sleep—then back at Haniya. She made a kiss face at him, quick and shameless.

He sighed.

Deeply.

Guilt already pooling in his chest even though nothing had happened yet. Even though this was innocent. Even though—

He got up.

It felt, somehow, like the start of a betrayal he couldn't yet name.

---

The car idled on an empty road in their neighborhood, streetlights casting long yellow pools across the asphalt. Haniya sat behind the wheel for the first time, both hands gripping it at ten and two like her life depended on it.

Aarib had finished the pre-instructions five minutes ago. She'd nodded along, asked no questions, and now sat frozen.

"Ab ahista se brake pe se paon hatao," he instructed calmly. "Ahista." (Now slowly take your foot off the brake. Slowly.)

She looked down at her feet. "Brake konsi wali hai? Left ya right? Aap left ya right batao na." (Which one is the brake? Left or right? Tell me left or right.)

He exhaled slowly. "Left right nahin hota. Ek use karna hota hai at a time. Aapne dono rakh liye hain?" (It's not left or right. You have to use one at a time. You've put both?)

She argued immediately. "Yeh kaisi logic hai? Mere do paon hain, main dono use karungi. Easy hoga na." (What kind of logic is this? I have two feet, I'll use both. It'll be easier, right?)

He turned to look at her. "Hum convenience nahin dekh rahe, logic dekh rahe hain. Ek use karein." (We're not looking at convenience, we're looking at logic. Use one.)

The car jerked as she experimented, switching feet, panicking, jerking it more.

Aarib inhaled deeply through his nose.

She pointed a finger at him. "Daantna nahin, okay? Mujhe kya pata driving kaise hoti hai. Main to sirf Sami bhai ke saath baithke snaps banati hoon road ki." (Don't scold me, okay? How would I know how driving works? I just sit with Sami bhai and make snaps of the road.)

He shook his head, exhaling. "Nahi daant raha. Ab brake chhodein. Ahista se." (Not scolding. Now release the brake. Slowly.)

She lifted her foot slowly. The car began to roll forward at the lowest possible speed. Her eyes went wide.

"Chal rahi hai." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Chal rahi hai." (It's moving. It's moving.)

"Abhi kahan chal rahi hai. Accelerator to dabao." (Where is it moving yet? Press the accelerator.)

She shook her head violently. "Nahi nahi. Bas itni kafi hai." (No no. This much is enough.)

Aarib pressed his lips together, fighting a smile. "10 ki speed pe chalayengi? Shabash." (You'll drive at 10 speed? Good job.)

She pressed the accelerator. The car picked up speed. A giggle escaped her. "Maza aa raha hai." (This is fun.)

He reached for his seatbelt and clicked it on. "Seedhi drive karein. White lines ke beech mein." (Drive straight. Between the white lines.)

"Seedhi hoon. Konsi white lines?" (I am straight. Which white lines?)

He grabbed the door handle. And her arm. "Acha bas bas. Ab slow karein. Haniya, brake lagayein. Bas. Haniya. Brake." (Okay stop stop. Now slow down. Haniya, apply the brake. Stop. Haniya. Brake.)

She looked at her feet, pulling both back. "Left ya right?"

Aarib's head snapped toward her. She wasn't looking at the road. "Haniya, saamne dekhein! Footpath! Haniya, footpath! Brake! Brake!" (Haniya, look ahead! Footpath! Haniya, footpath! Brake! Brake!)

He lunged for the steering wheel, but she was still gripping it, twisting wildly. The car veered.

"HANIYA, BRAKE!"

"LEFT YA RIGHT?!"

"LEFT! LEFT! LEFT!"

She slammed her foot down. The car stopped with a violent jerk, the passenger side lightly screeching against the footpath.

Silence.

Aarib rolled down his window and leaned out, heart hammering, scanning for damage. A faint scratch along the side. Nothing major. Nothing broken. Nothing—

He dropped his head back against the seat and exhaled.

Haniya shrugged beside him. "Kuch nahi. Zara sa scratch laga hoga." She waved a hand. "Mere paas white nail polish hai. Main cover kar dungi." (Nothing. Must have gotten a small scratch. I have white nail polish. I'll cover it.)

He turned to stare at her.

Slowly. Deliberately.

"Ab samajh aaya," he said, voice flat, "Sami kyun nahi sikhata. Koi pyaar nahi hai yeh. Gadi bacha raha hai woh apni." (Now I understand why Sami doesn't teach. This isn't love. He's saving his car.)

She nodded thoughtfully, sympathy dawning. "Haan. Yeh toh company ki gadi hai na." (Yes. This is the company car, right?)

He shook his head, exhaling in pure exasperation—and beneath it, unmistakable relief. "Shukar hai lagi nahi." (Thank God it didn't hit.)

She was already looking around at the controls again. "Acha. Ab yeh batao. Drift kaise karte hain?" (Okay. Now tell me this. How do you drift?)

He turned to her fully. His expression could have curdled milk.

"Pehle aap seedhi chalna seekhein." Each word precise. Controlled. "Aaj ke liye itna seekhna kaafi hai." He opened his door. "Chalein. Switch seats." (First you learn to drive straight. Learning this much is enough for today. Let's go. Switch seats.)

---

They swapped positions in silence. Aarib started the car.

Haniya looked at him expectantly. "Ab?" (Now?)

"Ab kya. Ab ghar wapas." (Now what. Now back home.)

She gasped. "Lekin burger? Hum toh bhaiya se burger ka hi puchke aaye the na. Toh ab khana padega." (But burger? We asked bhaiya about burger only, didn't we? So now we have to eat it.)

He rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his mouth. "Ji. Ab farz ho gaya hai." He pulled onto the road. (Yes. Now it's become a duty.)

She leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Uske baad nashta karne Murree chalein?" (After that, shall we go to Murree for breakfast?)

"Bas." He shot her a look. "Ab zyada ho raha hai." (Stop. Now it's too much.)

She settled back, but the grin didn't leave her face. And as they drove through the sleeping city, she kept at it—a steady stream of persuasion, arguments, pleas, and pouts, each one chipping away at his resolve.

He tried to shorten the trip. Tried to steer them home before they could get into more trouble.

But somewhere between her laughter and the way she kept looking at him like he was the most wonderful thing in the world, Aarib realized—

He wasn't fighting her anymore.

He was fighting himself.

---

CHAPTER NAVIGATION

← Previous Chapter: Chapter 8                                          Next Chapter → Chapter 10(Next Saturday)

He'd promised to teach her driving—but he hadn't promised to keep his heart out of the passenger seat.

---

What did you think of this chapter? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

---

© 2026 Silent Quill Stories. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction or redistribution of this content is prohibited.