ZAKHM e ISHQ - Uzair Baloch x reader
ZAKHM-e-ISHQ
Uzair Baloch x OC - Uzair Baloch x Reader
Trigger warnings: wounds, stitching, Violence
The heat of karachi was oppressive and the fan above her in the clinic did nothing to alleviate it. It would have made no difference even if it was turned off but that was the nature of karachi, heat, heat and more heat. Trying her best of ignore it she tried to get some sleep before her next patient was inevitably brought in. Outside karachi was loud, as it usually was but today it seemed the city was restless much more than usual, loud and oddly still at the same time.
“Still awake?” Her colleague Ali asked while peeking into the office from the door.
She scoffed, head tilted back and eyes closed. “You say that like we are allowed to sleep.”
“True”
The lights flickered overhead and the fan kept whirring, she was this close to spending her own pay check and getting a cooler or AC for the clinic.
Suddenly the somewhat still environment of the clinic was shattered with the clinic door opening with a burst and hitting the wall. Y/N and Ali both jolted and quickly went to the door to see what was happening. The door had been thrown open and four men rushed in, with two holding up a man taller than themselves, his shirt stained dark with blood soaking from the wound in his shoulder while one stayed behind to close the door.
The entire clinic went silent, Y/N and Ali looked at each other in terror, they knew that the patient was likely a casualty of the gang war that had become so common in lyari.
“Doctor kon he?” One of them asked in a sharp tone, while one them cleared the table of its clutter, putting the men on the table, using it as a makeshift chair. Y/N cringed at her laptop being so haphazardly thrown on the floor along with her phone and her accessories. Her Ama’s voice was loud in her head, berating her for wearing gold in such a dangerous city, but alas the woe of being a girly girl who loved jewellery.
“Kon he Doctor?” The same guy, with the long hair barked, this time louder. It bought her back to the present with a jolt and both Ali and her springed into action. Ali quickly worked on cutting the shirt off the patient while Y/N put on her gloves.
Just as she neared the patient and put her hand forward to check his injury the man with the long hair quickly held her hand in a tight grip, “Kuch ulta seedha nai krna, agr ise kuch huwa na to.“
“ Hat nai lagane dia to to wese b kuch nai hona”
She quipped sharply. Here she was trying to help him all the while her heart was beating out of chest, in this oppressive Karachi heat and here he was threatening her.
After what felt like hour he slowly released her hand. It wasnt because he suddenly grew a conscience but because of a sharp “Hamza” which came from the patient.
She pulled her attention back to the patient and was surprised to see him looking at her and her breath got stuck in her throat, because fuck, she knew him. The infamous Uzair Baloch, brother to one Rehman Dacait who ran lyari, if they fucked up here both her and Ali’s families were royally fucked.
Her stomach tightened for exactly one second before her training kicked in.
“Udhar jao.” You gestured towards the examination bed lied against the wall.
One of the men seemed offended by her tone.” tameez se —“
Uzair raised a hand and the man quieted down. He stood up and calmly limped towards the and sat down, his eyes staying on you the entire time.
There was blood on his jaw, hair tousled and something unsettling in his gaze. You went towards him, slightly trembling and asked. ”bullet?” One of the men answered “nai”
“Knife.” Uzair suddenly spoke up looking at you with that unsettling look.
“Looks bad.” You said gingerly checking his wound
“I’ve had worse.” He replied.
“Han isi lie gandum ki kati huwi fasal lag rai ho” You cringed at yourself, the habit of making small conversations with patients biting you in the ass, God why couldn’t you just shit up, treat him so that they will be gone.
The clinic plus shampoo ad snorted while Amir looked at you in horror, while Uzair, he laughed quietly, he actually laughed, looking at you with a twinkle in his eye. You tried your best to control your tongue and got started working on him. Ali injected anesthesia near the wound while you got ready to stitch him up, thanking your heavens that it wasn’t a bullet because extracting in this small clinic without your senior would have been a hassle, one you didn’t even want to imagine.
You focused on stitching, hyper aware of his gaze on your face. Nobody spoke, his men silently standing guard. He was quiet, too quiet, to the point you wondered if the laugh was just a figment of your imagination to make this interaction tolerable.
You tied the final stitch before neatly pressing the guaze against the wound and dressing it.
“Apko aram krna hoga, actual aram, dawai wakt pr leni hogi aur patti badalti rehni hogi.
Infection ki soorat me Doctor k pas zarur jane warna khatra hosakta he’” you recited the precautions like reading off of a book, thats how ingrained it was into you at this point.
You backed off, pulling your gloves and throwing them into the dustbin. Everyone came to standstill looking at eachother while Uzair remained seated still looking at you. You took the time to observe him, he was tall, that much was obvious, with a body many would kill for, tanned and toned. Had it been anyone else you would have secretly drooled but since it was him you prayed for him to just get out
Unable to take it any longer you looked into his eye and you asked finally “aur kuch?”
“Tm dar nai rahi ho?” He asked with his head tilted. It oddly reminded you of a dog, a pitbull that would tear you apart but a dog nonetheless.
“Ap jainge to kanpna shuru krungi.” You answered flatly, more like pissing yourself in peace but you couldn’t very well say that to a gangster.
His lips twitched before he lightly smiled. It was strange seeing him laugh and smile, you always expected gangster to have this red light perpetually on their face, half obscured in the dark, but proved wrong, they were humans too apparently, that bled.
The bald one stepped forward,”kitna huwa?”
You named the amount absentmindedly while writing down the medicine he would require.
The man immediately pulled out a thick bundle of money, too much cash. “Treatment k mange he, building k nai” You quickly quipped
“Rakho”
“Nai, inki madad krna hamara farz he’” you immediately refused. You didn’t want their dirty money, while you couldn’t say that to their face, you could dress it up prettily in your doctors moral, which you had lost long ago.
“Tmhe pata b he kitne he ye?” he gestured towards the money
”Q ginna nai ata apko?”
The one with the long hair suspiciously coughed like holding back a laugh while Ali choked behind you.
And suddenly Uzair became fixated, genuinely interested, not casual curiosity anymore.
You hated it, you didn’t understand what it was exactly but you didn’t want them to stick around enough to figure it out. You repeated the amount again and put you hand forward.
Taking the money you handed him the prescription reminding them again to take care of the wound and buy him antibiotics and give him according to the instructions you put down.
Before the man could take it from your hand Uzair was suddenly there taking it from your hands, his fingers lightly brushing yours.
Warm
Rough
Bloodstained
You pulled you hand back as if burned, a strange light passed through his eye. You stepped back and started ratting off the instructions again.
“Tmhara nam kia he?” He asked
The question settled heavily in the room, you didn’t answer, every atom in your body buzzing at you telling you to not answer, when he gruffed at you, asking the same question again. You knew he wouldn’t leave without getting an answer so your answered him. You watched as his face changed with this look of content stillness and a hitched breath.
One of the men opened the door carefully, checking outside, the sirens flooding the clinic again. “Apna khayal rakhna, halat bht khrab he yaha k” he said to you before leaving.
“Ap dhamki de rai he?” You frowned immediately.
His gaze lingered, a smirk on his face and that strange look still.
The he walked out the door, reluctance still in his gait. You and Ali locked gazes, your heart in your throat as you slowly sat down, trembling.
And somehow the clinic felt less safe after they left.
