As Y/N walked back into the room after her dramatic water battle and victorious prayer break, her phone pinged with a message. She lazily picked it up and blinked at the screen. Then blinked again.
> "University closed today due to weather alert."
She stared… processing… and then suddenly sighed in relief like she'd been gifted an extra life.
"Shukar hai yaar…" she mumbled, tossing the phone onto the bed and dramatically flopping beside it.
"What. A. Day. Is. Today."
She sat up again, all bright and chirpy now like someone had just gifted her a million rupees and a nap combo. Turning to him — who was now fully awake and sitting cross-legged on the bed like a calm guest in a very loud house — she declared,
"Go freshen up! Wear my appa's trousers and shirt for now — you don't have clothes here."
He nodded wordlessly, still processing the energy this girl carried at 6 in the morning. She handed him the clothes neatly folded, then paused.
"Come. Let me lend you toward the washroom," she said dramatically, putting one hand forward like a royal guide.
He chuckled, standing up,
"It's literally three steps away…"
"Yes," she said, with narrowed eyes and mock pride,
"But it's my hospitality protocol."
He shook his head with a smile and walked off.
She turned on her heel and headed straight to the kitchen.
---
(Kitchen)
Y/N's mom was already there, tying her dupatta as she prepared to light the stove. The smell of cardamom tea was starting to fill the space.
"Beta, what will he eat?" her mom asked, slightly concerned. "He must be used to different food. He doesn't even know how he ended up here, poor thing. And he's an actor… our house is just normal…"
Y/N smiled as she pulled her hair back into a bun and moved to help cut some vegetables. She looked at her mom fondly.
"Meri piyari Ammi Jaan," she said softly, "Agar woh actor hai… toh aap meri piyari Ammi Jaan hain — jo ka bohot acha breakfast banati hain."
(My dear mom,if he is actor then you are my dear mom the one who make amazing breakfast)
"Aap banaiye, usko pasand aa hi jaayega."
(You make,he will like it)
Her mother's face softened into a smile. "Pagal ladki,"(stupid girl) she whispered, cupping Y/N's cheek for a moment before turning back to the stove.
---
(Kitchen Entrance)
He stood there quietly now, towel in hand, still drying his hair. The warmth from the kitchen, the easy love in the air, the sound of mother-daughter laughter, it all hit him in a wave.
He didn't understand what Y/N had said in Urdu… but the way she looked at her mom, the softness in her tone, the comfort in their rhythm — it said enough.
He thought of his own mom suddenly. Her gentle scoldings, the way she used to nag him to eat properly before work. The scent of her perfume. It all came rushing in like a memory you didn't know you missed.
Y/N's mom noticed him standing there, a little distant, a little quiet.
She smiled kindly.
"Beta… come, come. Don't just stand there."
He stepped in.
She reached out and gently touched his arm, reading his silence like only mothers could.
"If you ever… miss your mom while you're here…"
She smiled again, a little more tender now.
"You can come to me. I'm like a mom to you too, okay?"
And just like that — his walls cracked.
Without thinking much, he stepped forward and hugged her. A quiet, long, thankful hug that said more than any words could.
Y/N turned the corner and paused, surprised to see them like that. She didn't say a word — just stood silently for a moment, heart warm and soft, watching them.
Her mom spotted her, still holding him in a gentle hug, and called out playfully,
"Y/N… dekho zara, tumhare dost ko main kitna pasand aayi hoon."
(Y/N… look how much your friend already likes me.)
He turned slightly, catching her standing there — sleepy eyes, proud smile.
She teased softly, "See? My family already loves you."
He didn't reply — just smiled. And this time, it reached all the way to his eyes.
Y/N placed her hands on her hips dramatically.
"Come on, Ammi," she said with a fake frown, "now you love him more than me?"
Her mom let out a tsk and laughed, swatting her with the edge of her dupatta.
"Ajeeb larki ho tum!"(weird girl you are!)
That little teasing line was enough to melt the moment. He smiled shyly, and even her mom giggled, wiping her hands on the corner of her apron.
Y/N grinned, satisfied with her successful mood lightener.
"Okay, okay — let's go! You both go sit on the chairs. Appa and Eman must be already there."
She gently nudged her mom and motioned for him to follow too.
"Breakfast will be ready soon," she added, wiping her hands.
As they began walking, she called after them again,
"And if you don't understand anything Ammi says — don't worry. Eman will translate for you."
Her mom chuckled. "Bas mujhe English samajh nahi aati, muhabbat toh har zabaan mein samajh aati hai."
(I just don't know English,I understand love in every language)
Y/N grinned at her mom's words and waved them off with a soft, "Jaaiye jaaiye, let the chef work."
He looked back once more before leaving the kitchen — eyes scanning the warm yellow light, the spice jars lined up neatly, the laughter echoing between tiled walls.
It was unfamiliar.
But it didn't feel foreign.
---
( Lounge)
He stepped in and found Appa sitting calmly at the dining table, flipping through the newspaper with his glasses perched low on his nose.
Eman was already munching a biscuit, legs swinging off the chair like the chaos child she was.
She looked up at him and grinned.
"Oh ho ho," she whispered, "Ammi hugged you? You must have unlocked bonus level already."
He laughed under his breath and sat down next to her.
Appa looked over the paper and gave him a small nod. Not a word, just a classic dad-approved nod. But somehow, it carried weight — like he was welcome.
He nodded back, just as quietly.
Eman leaned over to him and whispered,
"Don't worry, I'll translate. But mostly they're just gonna talk about you anyway."
He smiled, shaking his head. "Thanks."
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Y/N was now flipping parathas like a boss, her mom helping beside her, the two of them in perfect sync.
This morning was chaos.
But it was the kind of chaos you'd want to wake up to every day.
And without even realizing it…
He wasn't just in a family's home anymore.
( Later that Morning)
After breakfast, Appa quietly grabbed his bag and car keys. He stood by the door, slipping on his shoes with slow, practiced movements.
"I'll be back by Zuhr," he told Ammi. "Kuch chahiye ho toh call kar lena."(if you need anything call me)
Ammi nodded from the kitchen and replied, "Theek hai ji. Allah Hafiz."
With a soft salaam, Appa gave a small smile and left for work.
Meanwhile, Ammi got a phone call and quickly wrapped her dupatta tighter around her head. "Bas mein aayi, Shagufta anti bula rahi hai — woh dawai laani thi," she told Y/N before heading to the neighbour's house.
Y/N gave a little nod from the floor, where she was now sitting with her laptop and books spread out in front of her.
She was deep into her university work — nose scrunched, fingers typing fast, earphones in one ear to block out the world but not entirely.
The lounge was quiet now.
Except, of course, for Eman, who was watching a K-drama with full jazbaat, curled up like a little burrito under a fuzzy blanket.
("Yahh! Don't trust her!") she whispered at the screen, eyes wide.
Kim Bum smiled, settling beside them on the floor with his phone. Before doing anything else, he stepped aside for a moment to make a quick call.
"Hyung," he said softly, "please talk to the agency again. I want to stay here a little longer… maybe a month. Try for the visa."
There was a pause. Then his manager's voice came through, a bit surprised.
"It'll take some time — maybe one month to sort everything, but I'll do what I can."
Kim Bum glanced around the cozy lounge, then at Y/N who was still typing furiously, her hair falling over her eyes.
"Okay," he murmured with a small smile, "then one month in Pakistan."
Just then, Y/N looked up and caught him watching her. She didn't say anything, just gave a quick thumbs up with a knowing smile.
He chuckled and nodded back, "Got it."
She returned to typing.
But a few moments later, without even looking up, Y/N stretched her hand toward him.
"Give me your phone," she said, her voice casual.
He blinked. "Why?"
She finally looked up at him with a mischievous smirk.
"I want to hack it."
"WHAT?" he half-gasped, pulling his phone slightly closer to his chest.
Y/N burst into laughter and shook her head.
"Relax, detective sahab. I was joking."
She took the phone gently, tapped the screen, and added,
"Just giving you the Wi-Fi password. You'll get bored otherwise."
He smiled sheepishly and handed it over.
"Thanks."
As soon as she gave it back, Y/N's eyes went right back to her screen. Focused. Like a machine.
He leaned back against the couch, scrolling aimlessly for a bit.
Then, curious, he looked up and asked,
"Does anyone here use Instagram?"
Y/N, still staring at her screen, replied like a robot, "Yeah. Maybe."
But Eman… oh Eman.
She paused her drama, glanced at Y/N to make sure she wasn't paying attention, and leaned toward him with a sneaky grin.
"She has."
He blinked. "Who?"
"Y/N," Eman whispered like she was telling state secrets. "She makes K-drama edits… mostly BTS…"
Then she smirked.
"…and you're in some of them."
Kim Bum's eyes widened slightly.
"Me?"
Eman nodded proudly. "I've seen one where she used 'Until I Found You' on a Lee Rang edit. It got like… ten thousand likes."
He slowly turned to look at Y/N — who was still pretending like she didn't hear anything, but her ears had clearly turned pink.
He leaned closer to Eman, whispering,
"Send me the link."
Eman grinned. "Already in your inbox."
He chuckled softly, eyes now flicking between his phone and the girl sitting next to him — totally immersed in her world, but maybe not as unaware as she pretended to be.
This…
This was going to be a very interesting month.
He was part of it.