Mere dil ki yeh dua hai,
Kabhi door tu na jae

میرے دل کی یہ دعا ہے کبھی دور تو نہ جاۓ

My heart plummeted.

I stared at the deadly grey piece of weapon, carefully packed in a plastic pouch, held in front of me. Worry peppered my skin, my mind numb with confusion. "How is—" my voice dipped when I looked up and saw Aliyaar watching me with an immobile expression.

I gulped, fighting for breath. Fear warred through me. There was no way I could convince Aliyaar of my innocence. The gun he had trusted me with, now laid as evidence against him.

How could I have been so careless?

Angry tears burned my eyes, pricking them like spiky needles. But I roughly wiped them way, shaking my head vehemently. No, this wasn't the time to wallow in misery or guilt. I had to act quick, I had to convince him I had no part in this. "Aliyaar," from deep within my parched throat, my voice barely rose above a whisper. "I— I didn't. I—"

"Stop." He cut in with finality, his voice raw and furious. I flinched, startled at the hostility in his tone. The ridged lines of his forehead deepened and his brows knitted together in agitated fury. Fear gnawed at my heart, but I stood still, my eyes searching his for trust. He had to trust me.

"You have to come with us to the police station." The stern voice of the commissioner stirred from behind us. Aliyaar looked over his shoulder at the uniformed officer standing there, waiting impatiently with his fingers twisting the baton in his hand.

"You don't have arrest warrants. You can't take him." I spoke up quickly.

"But we have evidence. This gun was found at the crime spot. Aliyaar sahab has to come with us for further investigation." He said in a softer voice, but I didn't miss the calculative undertone lining his words.

Despite the tension brewing in the room, Aliyaar maintained his calm. And then slowly turned around to face the commissioner. "I need to talk to my lawyers. Please wait while I make some calls."

"This isn't your office," the commissioner snickered sarcastically. "You have to come with us now."

Aliyaar crossed his arms, his shoulders squared and his stance widened. If he was scared, there was no sign of it. His eyes narrowed with subtle amusement, while he stood there shrewdly assessing the man in front of him. "This might not be my office, but right now you stand upon my private property and without proper arrest warrants you can only remove me under duress. And with your current track record, I'm sure you do not wish to entertain yet another lawsuit." Intent laced his voice.

The commissioner stiffened visibly, a flash of anger lightening up his face. "Are you threatening the Police?" He gritted through his tobacco ridden lips.

Aliyaar's eyes gleamed with confidence, his posture steeled with unquestioned authority. "Just stating facts." He said with an enviable calm.

"Fifteen minutes." The commissioner spoke with an impetuous air of finality. "You have fifteen minutes, not a second over."

I had little time to register the heated exchange, because the next second Aliyaar's hand wrapped around my wrist, and he was dragging me across the room with him. He moved with lengthy strides, so much that I struggled to keep up with him, quickening my pace to meet his. I whined, struggling to free my wrist from his deadly grip. "Aliyaar I promise I have no idea how that gun got there." Tears rolled down my face as we hurried up the steps. "I promise, Aliyaar I didn't do it." My voice broke as tears clogged my throat, my wincing becoming louder.

He pushed the door of our room open, pulling us inside before quickly turning around to lock it. "Aliy—"

"I know you didn't do it." He said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. Relief flooded though me and I almost crumbled on to the bed with a laboured sigh. A string of curses left his mouth, his frustration reaching dangerous levels.

My relief hadn't gone unnoticed by him, but he was too occupied to acknowledge it any further. "I'm going with them, but behind me I need you to clear all the firearms in the house. Most of them are in my closet and office." His expression turned solemn, almost calculative. I wiped my face and then nodded dutifully. "This information should not get out, tell Jasmine to handle the press."

"But what about the police?"

He then turned to his phone. "Dad is talking to the lawyers, but we need evidence to show this gun was stolen."

"CCTV footage? I left my bag in the hospital hallway when I came to watch your press conference. I'm positive someone took it then."

"Try to get the footage, but whoever did this must have anticipated that. I wouldn't be surprised if the cameras had been switched off."

We both thought for a while, our brows pulled together in deep deliberation. "Do you have any police connections?" I asked.

"Of course I do. Why do you think there are no arrest warrants?" He scoffed.

"Then we can arrange for a fake FIR. Have them forge a backdated report that suggests this gun was stolen from you a while back." I suggested. His eyes narrowed in thought, before he slowly nodded unsurely. "Let me talk to my family? Dada Jaan would—"

A surge of fury chased the calm off his face. The lines on his forehead deepened and his brows snapped together in rage. "You think they came here without informing your family. They don't bat an eyelid without your grandfather's permission and they'd dare to come to my house without his knowledge."

I blinked at him, bewildered by the sudden hostility in his voice. The information wasn't new, but the realisation was painful. His posture was set, his brow severe. I closed the distance between us, my hands holding onto his, "Please let me talk to them. I'll do anything to convince Dada Jaan, even if I have to beg him."

At this something shifted within him, his arm banded around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His warm breath prickled my forehead. "My wife does not beg." He said through gritted teeth. "Keep your head up high, like the queen you are." His face softened, but his voice was laced with dominance. "My queen."

"But—"

His finger brushed against my lip, silencing any protest. "I'll be fine. We have to stay strong. Dad has one of the best lawyers, I'm sure they'll work something out." I nodded but my eyes became wet with fresh tears. "I've to make some calls." He said moving away.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Minutes ago, he was standing besides me making calls and then just like that, he left with armed men surrounding him, while I stood numbly watching the chaos unfold around me. Helplessness threatened to suffocate me. Silent sobs wrecked through my chest and I gasped, reeling to maintain any semblance of composure. I felt a pair of arms wound around me, softly rubbing my shoulders to comfort me.

"You have to be strong. You have to be strong for him." Miraal's voice sounded from besides me. I looked up through my tear ridden lashes, and saw her pass me an encouraging smile. "Shehryar is talking to the lawyers, but you know the best way to bring him back." She went completely still, but her face was filled with conviction.

"Aliyaar will not like it if I ask my family for help." Frustrated, I walked away from her. But the helplessness on my face was probably obvious, because Miraal quickly reached out and sat besides me.

"You don't have to ask for help, you have to take it." Her voice was strong, her chin held up.  "Life is hard. Don't ask for it to be easy, but focus on making yourself strong."

Her words stung. A raw punch of determination hit me hard. This wasn't the first time I had been faced with such a situation. The helplessness, the rage, the turmoil. It all felt so familiar, yet so strange. But something about her words made my skin crawl and pure unbidden rage raced through my veins with a wild madness.

I would not let anyone harm him. Not even my family.

Perhaps a push was all I needed. I turned to Miraal with a thankful smile, and then wrapped the duppatta around my head, racing through the halls towards the main door. "Where are you going, Shanzae?" Ahmed uncle's concerned voice stopped me in my track.

"I have to bring him back. I'm going to meet Dada Jaan."

"I don't think there is any use. Malik Sahab could have prevented them from coming here to begin with." He replied in an agitated tone. "Our lawyers will find a way."

"Please let me go. I have to go." I cried out in frustration. Uncle pursed his lips, unconvinced, but then slowly nodded. "Shehryar will take you." I stole a glance at Yaar who was busy on his phone, he was needed here, but I had not time to waste arguing.

The ride up to my house was quick and tense. Yaar remained on his phone for the most part, giving orders to his men. It was Sunday afternoon and apart from a few lazy cars, the roads were mostly empty. Our car zoomed through the main road, the scenery outside blurred and hazy. But today I had no interest in the scenes outside, my hands were held up in prayer, my lips murmuring supplications.

The security outside the Lal Mahal was amped up, Rangers, Police officers and private securities personnel's roamed every inch of the property. A few party members made their way out of the house, their faces drawn under the welting heat of the sun.

As soon as the car came to a halt, I dashing out, demanding to see my father. I could feel the servants tremble as I walked though the corridors looking for him, enraged. Quickly his secretary, appeared from behind and door. His face a little shaken with my outburst. But he never bothered communicating his thoughts, silently guiding me to one of his offices.

Unbridled anger swept through dad's face, while I retold them the events of today morning. Under the sunlight streaming in through the window, dad almost looked older, like he had aged overnight. The folds on his face had deepened, his skin sagged and the white of his hair suddenly shone like specks of silver against a canvas of black, except that there was more silver than black.

"Dad, I promise he is innocent. That gun was in my bag when we came to the hospital yesterday." My gaze stilled upon his face, trying to catch the fleeting emotions. "And even if he had done it, he wouldn't have used his own gun and then left it there as evidence. This makes no sense."

"I can't believe Abba allowed for such lunacy. Let me talk to him." He patted my head. "Don't worry he'll be out soon."

"I want to come with you." I leapt, holding on to his arm. "Please let me talk to Dada Jaan."

Dad sighed, his face appeared to be absorbed in thought. "Shany, you know he doesn't appreciate his daughters involving themselves in matters of business. Let me—"

"Today I am not going to him as his daughter, I'm going to him as Aliyaar's wife. There is a difference." I interjected purposefully. Dad stood there for a while, his face solemn and still, almost a little shocked at my words. "Let's go, I don't have time. The longer I waste, the longer my husband stays in that damned police custody."

The acridity of my voice wasn't missed by my father, neither was the determination glistening in my eyes. He knew today he couldn't deter me, so he unwillingly nodded his head and gestured for me to follow him.

The walk to dada Jaan's office was quiet. I stayed close to Dad as we entered the work wing of the Lal Mahal, a part of the house that still remained remote and unfamiliar to me. I felt cold, the blood in my veins fusing with the eddies of unease and unsureness. I wasn't feeling very optimistic, but I had to try.

Aliyaar's words rang in my ears, my wife does not beg. I took in a laboured breath, as multiple thoughts swirled through my head. After everything, I'd be damned if I humiliated myself by begging my family. I was the daughter of the this family and I deserved to be treated just like my brothers were. They never begged, they demanded.

I maintained a straight face, any signs of emotions vanished. Recklessness would not ruin my plans today, I thought as I charged down the hall, my spine steeled.

The door to Dada Jaan's office was closed, but upon our arrival a guard standing besides the door hurried to knock upon it, signalling our arrival. But there was no response. Despite the sound of hushed conversation coming through the door, no one answered. The guard knocked again, this time a little louder. Still no response.

Out of patience and with frustration streaming through my blood, I stepped forward and threw the doors open, and burst inside the room. Surprised gasps sounded from around me, but I stood there silently, throwing a fleeting glance across the room to acknowledge the presence of every man present there.

The duppatta was still wrapped over my head, but I shifted slightly to readjust the hem when my eyes met the disapproving ones of my grandfather. He remained still, but his brows rose in question. I inhaled, fighting the sudden desire to burn down the whole room. Dad stepped in besides me, his face asking his father for a private audience.

Dada Jaan nodded slightly and then waved his hand to dismiss the men in the room. Slowly, everyone retreated, leaving us in the company of Dada Jaan and Zaroon Bhai.

"How is Ibrahim?" Dada Jaan turned to dad when the doors closed behind us with a soft thud. "And why are you not at the hospital?"

"He is fine. Conscious now." Dad's voice drifted through the room. "Shahzad and Zayan are there."

A shattering silence stretched in the room. Tension filled the air growing thick and heavy with each passing second. The mood in the room was dull and dark, every face drawn and stiff, at awkward odds with the the happy sunshine filling the world outside. Zaroon Bhai's face was blank, any trace of emotion carefully hidden under a mask of indifference. He hadn't acknowledged my presence and for a moment it almost seemed like I was invisible, inconsequential. Indignation burnt through me like fire.

"What brings you here, Shanzae?" Dada Jaan's deep voice shook me away from my thoughts. "Have you forgotten the rules of this house?"

"I haven't forgotten anything. But it seems like the members of this house have forgotten that I'm the daughter of this family." My voice rose as a sense of betrayal began to sink in.

Dada Jaan straightened at my words, his face growing grim. Zaroon Bhai too turned towards me, the disinterested expression on his face slowly slipping away. "What makes you say so?" Dada Jaan glanced back at me, before peering in the direction of my father, his eyes looking for answers.

"Aliyaar is at the police station, being questioned for his alleged involvement in the assassination attempt at Ibrahim Taya." Dada Jaan blinked, his wrinkled eyes lightening up with surprise. I too stared back in surprise. Surely he knew of this. "Aliyaar hasn't done it. Someone is framing him."

Dada Jaan glanced at the two men in the room wondrously, his expression shifting slightly. "Aliyaar is being questioned? How did the police suspect his involvement?" He turned to Zaroon Bhai, his voice strong and sharp. But Bhai remained silent, the rising fear evident on his face. Anger swept through Dada Jaan. Despite his weakened state, the authority in his voice was unmissable. "Will someone explain what is happening?" His voice thundered through the room and I almost shook at the severity of his tone. If there was one thing Dada Jaan hated, it was losing control.

"The Police found a gun at the crime spot and they suggest it is the same gun that shot Ibrahim Bhai —"

"But Dada Jaan, that gun was in Aliyaar's office when Ibrahim Taya was shot." The words left my mouth before I could think, "The forensic report is incorrect. It cannot be the same gun."

Anger flared through his face, hot and dangerous. "So much has happened and I'm finding out about this now?" He swallowed back his anger, failing miserably to clip his voice. His eyes narrowed, flashing with an unknown emotion. "Get the commissioner on the line, Zaroon."

I smiled, relief washing over me. But Zaroon Bhai remained still, unmoving. When he made no attempt to move, Dada Jaan turned to him in disbelief. No one had ever dared to go against his orders. "Zaroon!" Rage and exasperation warred though him.

"His gun was found at the crime spot. There is no doubt in my mind Aliyaar is involved."

"He is not involved." I yelled at Bhai, banging my hands against the table with an astounding force. "The gun at the crime spot proves nothing."

Bhai took a threatening step forward, a calculated expression marring his face. My chest rose and fell with the wild waves of anger consuming me, but I remained undeterred, showing no sign of weakness. Today, any attempts to intimidate me would be futile.

"The gun proves nothing, but what about the forensic report." His voice went chillingly quiet. "You're smarter than that Shanzae. What has he been feeding you that you can't see the truth?" He said placing a piece of paper at Dada Jaan's desk, sliding it towards him.

"That report is forged." I squeezed my eyes in frustration, my hands fisting together besides me. Dada Jaan held up the report, his eyes scanning its content.

"So you knew all about this Zaroon. And yet you conveniently decided to not tell me?" There was a harrowing silence, Dada Jaan watching the two of us with a pointed stern gaze.

"I—I" Bhai stammered, struggling to open his mouth. Today he had done the unthinkable. Today he had questioned Dada Jaan's authority. "I just came to tell you, but I thought it better to tell you in private. You were surrounded by party members when I arrived."

"The party members could have left." Dada Jaan roared in fury, throwing the papers in Zaroon Bhai's direction. "And how did the commissioner go to Shanzae's house without my permission."

"Did you send him, Zaroon?" Dad's voice rose in horror at the possibility. Zaroon Bhai did not answer, but his silence confirmed our doubts. A surge of anger swirled through me. I knew the police wouldn't have dared to come to my house without my family's permission.

"How dare you." I seethed.

"Shanzae." My father warned and I stepped back, but my eyes glowered at my cousin threateningly.

Dada Jaan breathed deeply. His brows furrowed together in through and worry. There was a pregnant pause before Dada Jaan decided to speak again. "Zaroon you've overstepped boundaries today. You were my pride, yet I feel nothing but disappointment in you today." He said shaking his head.

"He shot my father and you're disappointed with me?" Zaroon Bhai defended himself. "He has openly threatened us so many times, yet you're upset with me for taking action. I didn't even have him arrested, despite having every evidence stalked up against him."

Dada Jaan held his hand up to quiet him, "Even if he is involved, it was supposed to be dealt with behind closed doors. You've made a mockery of us in front of everyone." Disappointment tore through him. "Since when have we started washing our dirty linen in public?"

"Aliyaar is not involved." I said, not taking my eyes off Zaroon Bhai.

"But what about this report Shanzae?" Dada Jaan spoke in a diplomatic voice. And in that moment I knew doubt had sown its seeds in his mind, it would not be easy to persuade him. "What was Aliyaar's gun doing there?" He spoke in an irate tone.

"This report is forged. His gun was stolen—"

"Minutes ago you said it was in his office. You're contradicting yourself Shany." Zaroon Bhai snickered mockingly.

"Zaroon." My father warned.

"The gun was in his office. And he gave it to me when we came to the hospital." I gritted, annoyed at the accusation. "Someone stole it from my bag Dada Jaan."

"So he hides weapons in your bag now. When will he man up and stop using you as a shield." Bhai chuckled, shaking his head. "And you're suggesting someone from the hospital stole it. There was only family and party members—"

"Are you insinuating I'm lying?"

"I'm not insinuating anything, but you forget this is your family. You're supposed to be with them, not against them."

"And he is my husband." I cut in, the ice in my voice freezing my own blood. "Dada Jaan I'm done having Bhai accuse Aliyaar over something he hasn't done. Aliyaar promised me he isn't involved."

"And you believe him?"

My eyes narrowed and my voice dropped, "Yes, I believe him. Because unlike everyone else he has never lied to me." I stared back challengingly, my eyes burning with fury. "I would suggest you spend time finding the real culprit than waste your energies trying to act petty."

"Call the commissioner Zaroon. I need to talk to him." Dada Jaan ordered, before pushing himself off the seat and walking up to the window, his hands folded behind him.

The next few minutes passed painfully slow. Dada Jaan spoke in monosyllables, giving away very little of his exchange with the officer. Zaroon Bhai stood besides him, waiting anxiously for him to finish the call.

When Dada Jaan finally hung the call, he turned to Bhai with a morbid expression, "Why did you have to make this a police case?" He stormed in irritation. "Ab tou saab mazay lainge." He fumed in anger.
[Now everyone will have fun]

"But—"

"Stop it Zaroon. Because of you, today an ordinary police officer has dared to refuse me." Frenzied fury flashed in his eyes. "How dare he."

"But Dada Jaan you have to have Aliyaar released. He hasn't done anything."

"There is no proof of that Shanzae." Dada Jaan spoke in a chipped tone. "Right now everything seems to suggest he is the very reason my son is lying in the hospital."

"But—"

"The police is continuing the investigation. We will wait for them." He spoke with finality.

I felt my heart drop and I looked towards my father with utter helplessness. Dad tried to intervene, but it seemed futile, because Dada Jaan had seemingly made up his mind. And if he thought Aliyaar was the culprit, there was nothing that could save him.

I collected myself together and took a deep breath. "Dada Jaan he has not done it. You have to believe me. If you don't get him out, then I will. And that might not pan out very well."

Zaroon Bhai looked at me dismissively, "He hasn't been arrested, just called in for investigation. He will be out, unless he is found guilty. There is no need for Dada Jaan to intervene and help."

My mouth curved into a sly smile, all signs of fear vanished from my face. "I'm not asking for help, I'm merely suggesting it's not a good time to be picking up fights with the very person financing your entire election." The corner of my eyes deepened with shrewd wickedness.

I could feel the shift in the room, a silent transfer fo power. As the realisation, swift and urgent, settled in, I could feel Dada Jaan emerge in deep thought. Although there was no reaction, I knew my words had hit their mark. Dada Jaan would now find out the truth at any cost, because he knew if Aliyaar was wrongly accused, he'd withhold all funds.

"Are you threatening us Shanzae." Zaroon Bhai spoke with disbelief.

"No. I'm just warning you if Aliyaar isn't back before midnight, you should be prepared for the consequences." I replied with a candid coolness. "If there can be a forged report to get him in, there can be a forged one to get him out as well. I know he'll come back."

And with that, without waiting for a response, I turned around a left.

➰➰➰

The bright orange tangerine of the twilight bled into a deep cobalt as the night began settle in. I peeped outside the window and saw the bright, cold moon had risen, but hid behind the brilliance of the billowy scudding clouds. An eerie coldness descended from above, shrouding everything with a chilling balminess.

I knelt upon the prayer mat, my head bowed, my hand held up and my lips murmuring prayers. The cold empty air of my room was woven with quiet sobs that shook my body. The harshness of the day had passed and coolness of the full moon began to settle in. The restlessness, the anguish, the worry of the day finally began to wear upon me, but I willed myself to serenity, wiped my face clear of the tears and began to pray again.

I don't know how long I had sat on the prayer rug, but it was enough time for the sky to shift colour. And now my room was enveloped in darkness, dipped in the undulating brilliance of the ivory moonlight. Shehryar had assured me he'd be back, but even he wasn't sure how soon. My heart clenched at the thought of him. Miraal had bought in food twice, but every time I had stubbornly asked her to leave. A sudden ache dulled my body. Had he eaten?

I felt a rush of tears behind my eyelids, my throat choking and parched. But then I heard the low groan of the door and my head whipped in its direction, my eyes brimming with hopefulness. Slowly, I saw him emerge from behind it.

I felt the world around me stop, frozen and unmoving.

Time became inconsequential. And I sat in a daze, as he slowly entered the room and came to sit besides me. He seemed tired but his face was relaxed. Under the soft shimmer of the silver light that surrounded us, his eyes were almost black, a deep ebony. The moonlight kissed the planes of his face, the hollows of his eyes, the dip of his nose and the width of his forehead, illuminating them with its ivory incandescence.

I sighed, relishing holy silence of the moment. Tears smarted my eyes, streaking down my face in a hasty race. But I smiled, holding my hand against his face, my fingers tersely tracing the contours of his face. For a moment, it felt too unreal. Too surreal. As the clock had ticked pass, my hopes too had dwindled away. But now he was back. Back to me.

"My Jaan is stronger than this." He leaned in and whispered, his eyes focussed upon the dried crust of tears on my face. "You're strong. Very strong." He said through a half smile.

His words pricked something deep within me and I felt myself crumbling under his loving gaze. I threw my arms around his shoulders, my face buried in the crook of his neck, my body breaking down into hysterical sobs.

I cried.

His arms wound around me, holding me close to him, weaving his soul with mine. His hold was strong, yet gentle. I had never felt so protected as I did today, cocooned in his arms, falling in his embrace. His fingers stroked my head, unraveling the duppatta wrapped around my face. Tears bled like iced raindrops, shedding away every fear, anguish and worry of the day. He was back and it was all that mattered.

My arms tightened around him, holding him close, feeling his body against mine. His warmth enveloping me in his silken comfort. After a point, I wasn't sure why I was crying, yet I kept crying, letting out all the pent up emotions inside me. He patiently held me up, caressing me, his lips, every now and then, peppering small kisses on side.

"Shanzae."

His voice was barely audible, but in its raw nakedness, I realised why I was crying.

I cried because I feared losing him.

I cried because I never wanted to lose him.

I cried because I wanted him.

I pulled back, wiping the tears straining my face pushing back the hair that curtained my face. "I'm not strong when you're concerned." I whispered, my fingers cradling his face.

He smiled softly, his fingers tracing down my forehead. "You're my strength. You're the strongest girl I know. You're my fighter."

"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" Fresh tears burnt my eyes at the thought.

"I'm alright, jaan." He said reassuringly. "It was just interrogation and the case has been dismissed."

"How?"

"Shehryar and Zayan arranged an FIR that claimed the gun had been stolen from me." He pursed his lips, before he spoke again carefully, "Dada Jaan helped arrange it. It means he knows I'm not involved."

My body shook with untamed anger as memories of the afternoon came back in full force. "What did you do, Shan?" He asked, studying the changing expression on my face.

I sighed, looking away from him, hoping he'd let it go. But he persisted, his eyes searching mine for answers. "What have you done?"

"I might have threatened them that I'll withhold funds for the election." His eyes widen in shock, but he looked at me unbelievingly.

"You threatened your grandfather?" He asked, still a little shook.

I shrugged, carefully avoiding his face my fingers playing with the undone buttons of his shirt. "I didn't threaten him, merely reminded him. He seemed to be buying Zaroon Bhai's bullshit, I just had to convince him to look into the matter carefully. And it's not like he let you go without finding out the truth. I'm sure he had the whole thing investigated."

"Then he'd know who stole the gun." Aliyaar said thoughtfully.

"He'd know but he won't tell. At least not now." I replied irritatedly. "He is very angry with Zaroon Bhai." Aliyaar stiffened hearing the name, his face lightening up with anger.

"Your relationship is suffering because of me." He said in a low tone.

"No, it's suffering because he fails to understand that you're now my husband and I will not tolerate an attack on you." I replied angrily, my brows perched up in irritation.

He sighed shaking his head, "You don't have to fight my battles. I can deal with them."

His words cut to my core, my face twisting with anger. "You're mine. They don't touch what's mine and get away with it." I spoke in an irate tone.

I wasn't sure how I expected him to react, but I definitely didn't expect him to smile like I had just told him a joke. My brows furrowed together in confusion, at the oddly amused expression lightening up his light. "What?" I asked, suddenly feeling a little conscious.

"Nothing." He said, suppressing the smile quivering on his face. And then I realised, as I remembered he had once said the same words to me. I blushed as our gazes met again and his mouth curved into a teasing smile.

"Hatein. Chorein mujhe." I said, trying to slip out of his hold.
[move. Leave me]

I pushed at his chest, moving away from him, when is hand closed around my wrist pulling me back into his lap and in the next moment, his mouth was on mine. His lips pressing against my soft ones.

We kissed.

Time seemed to dissolve into nothing, stilling everything around us with an implausible stillness. I felt a gush of adrenaline race through me, and for a moment I almost forgot how to breathe. For some time, his cool lips delicately pressed against mine, before they slowly began to move, carefully caressing my lips with their feather like touch.

This was madness. This was nothing I had ever imagine. Heat coursed through my entire body, his hypnotic smell drawing every cell of my body to him, surrounding me, engulfing my entire being. He possessed me, silencing every thought, pushing away every fear, taking away every worry. He was everything I wanted and he was everything I had. In this moment, I never wanted our lips to part.

I slowly relaxed into his embrace, and as if my hands had a mind of their own, they slowly traced up his shirt and winding around his neck, my fingers burying themselves in the silky roughness of his hair. He groaned approvingly, his lips moving against mine. Any hesitation I had evaporated in thin air and I pulled him closer, parting my lips for him.

I felt him smile against me, before he deepened the kiss. This thumb pressed against the throbbing base of my neck, brushing against it in agonising slowness. A surge of warmth flowed though my veins feeling his tongue conquer the very depth of my soul. His fire burnt me, consuming me in his flames. In the giddying madness that ensued, I felt myself losing myself to him, surrendering myself to him.

Tonight I could feel his love. In the gentle caress of his lips, in the heated brush of his fingers, in the soft thudding of his heart, in the tuneful moans of his throat. I could feel him. Despite the total darkness surrounding us, all I could see was the sunshine.

His lips were like rose-petals, moving against mine, retelling a million untold stories. Our stories.

Despite the panic of the new feeling, I felt shivers of pleasure dart through me as I gave myself to him, tilting my face to give him more access. His hands slipped inside my shirt, slowly trailing up my back, leaving a path of fire behind them. I shivered, feeling giddy and light-headed, digging my fingers in the thickness of his hair. The rush of sensation crawling up my spine was numbing. A maddening thrill coursing through me. I had never felt anything like it, yet I never wanted it to end.

For a second, our lips parted and I almost cried out in protest. But I had no time to react because he pushed me on the floor, hovering above me, our lips meeting again in a searing kiss. I could feel every inch of him, pressing against me. His weight upon me, his scent invading my sense. My hands cupped his face, feeling the abrasive feel of his hair against my fingers. I wanted him, I wanted him so close. Time dissolved into nothingness, as our lips continued to moved against each other. I sighed, enjoying the feel of him, the slivers of pleasures rocketing through me, the warmth of his body.

Reluctantly we pulled back gasping for air, our faces flush, our eyes dazed with desire. He smiled at me, taking in the warmth rising up my face. His thumb pressed upon my lip, tugging their swollen softness. "I have been wanting to do this ever since I first saw you dancing in the rain." He spoke in a deep gruff voice.

I blushed looking away from him, suddenly feeling shy under scrutiny of his gaze. He chuckled and then lowered his face to kiss the rushing crimson of my cheek. "So beautiful." He murmured against me. "There was one more thing I wanted to say." He nudged his nose against my side, his lips pressing a kiss below my ear.

I squirmed underneath him, "what?" I gasped, feeling breathless yet again.

"Bhook lag rahi hai, khana lagwa do."  He whispered sensually and I froze as understanding rose above my foggy mind.
[can you have the table laid out, I'm hungry.]

"Get off me Aliyaar," I pushed at his chest, all fluttered and red. "You always do this." He laughed, rolling off me, watching me as I tore myself off the floor and raced down to the kitchen.

I had the cooks reheat the food and then hurriedly went back. My thoughts were still occupied with what had happened a few minutes ago, my cheeks straining pink as the images of us tangled together kept playing in my mind like an old familiar movie.

I sat besides him, dishing out the food for him. He had changed, the sleeves of his night shirt rolled back and his hair pushed back. "Here." I said handing over the plate.

"Khilado." He pouted innocently, his eyes rounding like a baby.

I looked at him for a while, shaking my head at his antics. "You're not a baby." I said, bringing the spoon up to his lips.

He shook his head, "I'm." He protested. "I'm your baby."

The rest of the night was spent quietly. Aliyaar tried to bring up the events of the day, but I shook my head. Right now, I wanted nothing between us. Right now it was about us. Just us.

We retired to bed earlier than usual, the tiredness of the day finally catching up with us. We lay on our sides, facing each other, none of us saying a word. In our silence, we had found our peace. He threaded his fingers through mine, holding it up between us. He played with my fingers, a soft smile on his face.

"I'm still waiting Aliyaar."

He looked up, a little confused. "For what?"

"You can be such an idiot at times. I'm waiting for you to kiss me again." A devilish smile graced his lips and I almost yelped in surprise when he rolled onto me. His fingers laced with him, locking my arms above my head.

"Your wish is my command." He murmured before pressing his lips against mine. But unlike last time, his kiss wasn't gentle, it was playful and demanding. Coaxing me to give into him. His hands roamed over my body, pressing and kneading the softness. I moaned into him, feeling a wave of pleasure drown my senses. I could feel him smile against my lips, enjoying the reaction. "Mine." I heard him say.

I sighed parting my lips, giving into him, "Yours."

THEY'VE FINALLY KISSED!
Phew. The longest update I've ever written. I hope you all enjoyed reading it. Please excuse the typos it's unedited.

Let me know your thoughts on today's chapter!

Only one of you was able to guess who got the "action". 😂

Until next time keep me in your prayers!

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