I never believed in true love. I always believed that true love was a literary production of writers to give ordinary people a reason to hope and live for. I
“Slowly Fawad, You’re scaring me,” implored Mehar, holding on tightly to her seat. “Chill, babes. The intoxication of speed, of uncertainty, of fathoming into the unknown, is irrepressible,” replied Fawad.