Another two days passed with Murtasim nowhere in sight much to Meerab's displeasure.

He remained at the village and she wondered what he was dealing with that needed his constant attention. Her uncle, Murtasim's father, too went away to the village often to deal with one thing or another, but never for days at a time.

Maa Begum had said that Murtasim would return that day, but the evening had turned into night, and there was no sign of him. Yet, Meerab stood under the covered terrace, her eyes fixed on the driveway that wound its way through the garden, waiting to catch just a glimpse of him, her hand held out to catch the raindrops that fell lightly as the sky roared and flashed with lightning.

The scent of petrichor filled her nose, and she closed her eyes, letting the familiar aroma wash over her. She had missed the smell of the rain, missed the sound of it tapping against the leaves of the trees, missed the way Maa Begum always yelled at her and Maryam when they ran out to play in the rain, their little feet splashing into puddles.

Murtasim had always been the one that came to get them, sometimes joining in on their fun, the three of them running across the wet grass playing a game of tag that he always let her win. When they went inside, they were always greeted by Maa Begum's worries about them getting sick as she forced cups of joshanda down their throats while her uncle laughed at his wife's nagging.

Meerab missed those days, when things were simpler, and the house was filled with sounds of laughter and play. Everything had changed when her uncle passed away. She had left home for Karachi shortly thereafter so the somber mood she returned to during her minimal breaks always saddened her, the innocence of children laughing long gone. Murtasim was usually too busy to spend any time with her or Mariam, but she had noticed that his happiness seemed like it had disappeared too.

Meerab's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car coming up the driveway, her heart leapt in her chest. Could it be him? She had been fooled before by a driver delivering groceries to the kitchen. But it was too late for anyone else to be visiting right then.

She strained her eyes, peering through the rain, trying to see if it was the familiar black Mercedes. But the sky roared loudly and the rain intensified suddenly, making it difficult to see. She heard car doors open and close, and saw a familiar figure rushing through the garden towards the house, without an umbrella, and her heart swelled with joy.

It was Murtasim.

Her joy at finally being able to see him was palpable and she could hardly contain it. She hurried through the halls, picking up a towel from the linen closet before dashing down the stairs, determined to meet him at the door. She had gone years without seeing him, but the glimpse she had caught of him just days ago had unravelled her resolve, making the two days he was away feel like an eon.

He opened the door as she reached the foyer, she could see that he was drenched by the rain. Her eyes fell on his figure first as he stepped through the door. His hair was slicked back, water droplets trickling down his face, clinging to his beard, and soaking through his clothes. His white shirt clung to his chest, outlining the curves of his muscles. Her heart stuttered at his disheveled state, eyes trailing down his chest, desire coursing through her.

But then Meerab's heart plummeted as she caught sight of a figure stepping in behind Murtasim...her father.

It had been years since Meerab had seen Anwar Khan, yet the pain and hurt remained fresh. Every time she saw him, she felt as though she were back to being a little child who had learnt that her father hated her.

Her father froze as he caught sight of her.

"Assalamu Alaikum." The greeting left her quietly, as if she both wanted to say it and didn't.

Meerab looked into her father's eyes, waiting for a response, searching for some sign of affection or kindness, but found only the same cold indifference that always welcomed her. She wondered why she still hoped, because her heart hurt every time he ignored her. Her father's gaze lingered on her for just a moment, but then he turned away without saying a word.

The familiar pang of pain shot through her chest as she realized that her hopes of rekindling some semblance of a relationship with him were once again shattered. She had always longed for her father's affection, to be seen and loved by him. But his unwavering resentment towards her for her mother's death had always kept him at arm's length. The pain of rejection cut her deep, as it always did, and Meerab felt the weight of it all settle heavily on her shoulders.

Tears stung in her eyes as she watched him disappear into the house, leaving her alone with Murtasim in the foyer.

She knew she should be happy to see Murtasim again, and she had been, but the pain of her father's rejection lingered like a heavy weight on her heart.

She felt the tears roll down her cheeks, her vision blurred.

Suddenly, she heard a gentle whisper, and she turned to see Murtasim standing beside her, his eyes filled with concern. "Meerab." He said her name with such care that it was as if he was holding her heart in his hands. He looked at her the way he always did when her father rejected her so, with a tenderness that touched her heart.

"It's okay, I am used to it." She said as she passed him the towel that she had grabbed for him.

He took it from her hands, his eyes flickering over her face, as if he didn't believe his words. But how could he when she had always broken down and cried in front of him after her father's countless rejections. He was likely thinking of the Meerab he had last saw before she left for Karachi, the one who had been stunned that her father was moving back into the Khan Mansion, the one who had cried and asked Murtasim what her fault was other than being born.

She wouldn't think that way though, not anymore.

Meerab's eyes flicked towards Murtasim as she tried to compose herself.

His arms were still raised, the towel covering his head as he dried his hair, he looked like a Greek god who had just stepped out of a fountain. She couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her chest as she admired him, pushing the pain and sadness away. She had missed him terribly and seeing him like this, in all his wet and disheveled glory, made her heart skip a beat. And made her forget about the figure that had retreated into the dark hallway.

"Joshanda?" She asked, knowing that Murtasim hated nothing more than the cold, and loved nothing more that warm herbal tea at night. Or he used to.

Her heart swelled with happiness as he nodded in agreement to her suggestion, for a moment she had been scared he'd turn it down. His wet hair fell across his forehead as he looked at her, his eyes flickering over her face, perhaps trying to make sure that she was all right.

"Go change, I'll be in the kitchen." The words left her softly.

He nodded and disappeared down the hallway while she ran to the kitchen, pulling together all the things he like in joshanda – ginger, cardamom, cinnamon and cloves. He hated fennel so she skipped that as she set the water to boil.

"Why are you still awake?" She heard his voice before she heard his steps.

Meerab turned to find him walking into the kitchen, he leaned against the counter on the opposite side of the island as he looked at her. He still looked disheveled for once, his hair a mess as it dried, wearing a sweater and pair of sweatpants, something she hadn't seen him in since she left for Karachi. He looked much too tired, like he hadn't slept in days.

I was waiting for you.

"I couldn't fall asleep." She said as she turned towards the boiling water.

Meerab couldn't help but feel her heart flutter as she sensed Murtasim's eyes on her. She turned her head to glance at him, finding him still leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her every move with intense eyes. The way he looked at her made her stomach churn with butterflies, and she couldn't help but feel a deep warmth spreading throughout her body.

"Honey?" She asked, turning towards him fully.

He shook his head, some locks of hair falling to his forehead, making him look more boyish than the gelled back hair did.

As she moved around the kitchen, grabbing the cups for the joshanda, her heart raced with the thrill of his attention. She couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind as he gazed at her, perhaps the same thoughts ran through his mind. She wondered if he too admired her like she did him, finding it difficult to keep his eyes away like she did.

As she handed him the warm cup, their hands briefly touched, sending a jolt of electricity through her body yet again. Her body was so aware of him that it always reacted strongly. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as she looked into his eyes. With a small smile, she watched as he took a sip, sighing as the warmth likely spread through his body, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her at the sound.

She took a sip as well, satisfied with the strong taste, exactly how he liked it.

"You should go to sleep." He muttered quietly, looking at her over the top of the cup as he took another sip.

She tried to quell the disappointment that rose in her, she wanted to stay with him...to chat. To ask him the million questions she knew she wanted to ask him but suddenly couldn't remember with him so close to her. She wanted to just...stare at him and memorize every little detail about the man who stood in front her, to merge it with all the little details she already knew about the boy she had known.

He was different now and she wanted to know him better. She had known that he changed a lot over the past few years as he took over the sheer responsibility falling onto his - suddenly very broad – shoulders.

"You work a lot." Her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded.

"Do you have time for much else?"

He arched his eyebrow in question.

"Do you still take your camera with you?" She asked. Murtasim had always loved going to the village with his camera bag, disappearing for hours on end and coming back with pictures to show her, ones that took her breath away.

He looked wistful as he shook his head. "Things change."

She remembered the conversations they had, sitting on the terrace, gazing at the stars, while he told her things he didn't tell anyone else. He had wanted to become a wildlife photographer, but had gone to university for business per the insistence of his parents. He had planned to bring it up near graduation, but then his father had passed away, burdening him with the responsibility of the family.

She couldn't imagine the pain he must have felt to give up his passion, something that always made him smile, just for the sake of others. In the hours he had cried, with his face buried into her stomach, clutching at her, she knew he had cried about his broken dream too. He had packed up his camera after that, much to her displeasure it seemed like he had packed it up forever.

Her eyes flickered over his face which was a mixture of emotions – pain, regret, and longing. Her heart broke for him, for someone who had fought so hard for her to live her dream but couldn't live his.

"Things don't have to change so much." He could perhaps still pick up a camera rather than the gun he always carried around.

He didn't respond, just looked back at her, his expression inscrutable.

Meerab stood in front of Murtasim, her heart racing as she tried to find the right words to say. She had so much she wanted to express to him, but as she looked into his eyes, her mind went blank. His presence overwhelmed her, pushing all her carefully rehearsed words away.

She tried to speak, but her tongue felt heavy and uncooperative, and she struggled to form a coherent sentence. It was as though Murtasim's very being had filled her mind to capacity, leaving no room for anything else. And so, Meerab simply stood there, wordless, lost in his eyes.

One of the maids entered the kitchen then, interrupting their staring, apologizing for not realizing that Murtasim had come home, asking if he wanted to eat anything.

Murtasim shook his head. "I got everything I needed." He said before nodding at her and walking out of the kitchen, disappearing down the hallway.

Meerab knew the maid meant well, but she couldn't help but be disappointed at being interrupted.

She too went back to her room, sighing and pouting as she turned in for bed. She wanted more of his time. All of it actually. She knew it was asking for too much, but she had years to make up for.

The sound of the rain battering against the window and roof should have been calming, but it seemed that the rain had picked up significantly, turning into a storm, reflecting the state of her mind. She tossed and turned in bed, sleep evaded her, just like it had when she was waiting for him. But now her whole being knew that he was just down the stairs, steps away from her for the first time in years.

She pulled the blankets tightly around her, staring at the night light in her room as it flickered twice before it went out, leaving the room engulfed in darkness.

Her heart suddenly raced with fear. Her hands started to shake as she blindly groped at the covers, pulling them over her for comfort, like she could somehow forget that the room was dark and pretend that she had pulled the covers over her.

Every sound in the room seemed to be magnified, causing her heart to skip a beat with every creak and rustle.

The wind howled outside, causing the shutters on the windows to shake despite their sturdiness. The wind that had felt nice as she stood outside now caused her distress.

She hated storms and the dark. Always had. She remembered being a small child and wandering around the dark house looking for comfort, not knowing where to go. Those were the nights she felt truly alone in the world. Maryam was sound asleep between her parents on most nights, leaving no room for anyone else.

Her father was never around. Not that he would have given her the comfort she sought.

Her little feet had always snuck into Murtasim's room, knowing he'd keep her safe. He always walked her back to her room, with his flashlight in hand, holding her hand and guiding the way. More often than not, he fell asleep on her bed, his legs facing the headboard, his hand holding the flashlight which pointed up towards the ceiling to light up the room.

But she was no longer a child, so seeking comfort from Murtasim was out of the question, no matter how much she longed for company. She wondered how he would respond if she showed up at his door again, would he let her in? Would he walk her back to her room with her hand in his and a flashlight to lead the way? Would he stay with her?

Suddenly, the door opened, and Meerab's heart leapt into her throat as she let out a scream, her mind conjuring up all sorts of terrifying images. She pretended she wasn't scared but the thoughts of ghosts and witches terrified her and -

"Shhh, Meerab, it's me." Relief flooded her as she heard Murtasim's voice, she opened her eyes to find him standing at the door, holding a lit candle in one hand.

"You scared me!"

"Kyun, bhoot laga?" [Why, did you think it was a ghost?] His voice had a teasing quality to it that she had forgotten she loved as much as she did.

"Murtasim!" She whined.

Without a word, he walked around the room, placing candles he held in his other hand on any flat surface he could find, lighting them with the lit candle he held until light started filling the room. The soft glow of the flames cast a warm and comforting light over everything, chasing away the darkness she hated.

Meerab watched in awe as he moved around the room, his movements graceful and purposeful. The candles smelled like eucalyptus and soon the room was washed with the comforting scent, calming her down.

He looked at her with a soft expression as he lit a candle by the bed, her heart skipped about ten beats at once as she lay in bed, looking up at Murtasim as he sat on the chaise by her bed. She wished she had moved it to the other side of the room, maybe he would have sat in her bed then.

"You remembered." She whispered, feeling a sense of gratitude that he had remembered her fear of the dark, and had come to her rescue.

"How could I forget? You woke me up on so many nights when the light went out."

Meerab felt her fear slowly ebb away.

She let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes, feeling safe with Murtasim by her side.

"What did you do in Karachi?" He asked quietly as he placed the last candle, the one he had used to light the others, on her side table.

Meerab wondered if Murtasim had worried for her when the lights went out at home.

Did he think about her like she had thought about him?

"Curled up beside Rumi."

He muttered something under his breath.

"Hmmm?" She asked, not catching the words.

"Sleep, I'll wait until you're asleep and then I'll go."

She wanted to ask him to stay, but she knew they were no longer children, and that hell would break loose if someone found him in her room in the morning.

In the dim light of the candles, Meerab watched as Murtasim's face was cast in shadows. He looked tired, yet she could see the way his eyes sparkled in the flickering light. How was she supposed to fall asleep when his presence took over all her senses, she could no longer hear the sounds of the rain, just his steady breathing. She could no longer feel the slight draft of cold air that somehow always got into her room, just the heat of his body by the side of her bed. Even the scent of the candles was very similar to the mint-like cologne he wore.

"Close your eyes, Meerab." Murtasim whispered, his voice deep, it sent electricity shooting through her.

She closed her eyes, trying to find the peace that his presence had always brought. The peace was impossible to separate from the nerves right then though, he was much too close, and her body was suddenly very aware of him in a way she hadn't been before.

She tried to even out her breathing.

It took a while to accomplish it but she was able to regulate her breath.

Enough that he seemed to think that she was asleep.

Murtasim leaned in closer, she could hear him move, his warmth coming closer to her. She felt a sound catch in her throat as she felt his breath on her cheek, his fingers tucked her hair behind her ear, his touch gentle and tender as it grazed her skin. She wanted to open her eyes and look at him, to tell him not to leave, but she stayed still, not wanting to give away her secret.

She listened as he sighed and pulled away, the sound of his footsteps slowly fading away as he left the room. Her heart felt heavy, longing for him to stay a little longer.

Meerab's eyes opened as the door closed. The candles created a soft glow around the room, flickering gently, their warm glow caressing her face, a reminder of Murtasim's soft touch. Like the candles, the warmth of his actions enveloped her, filling her with warmth.

Maybe she was being stupid about the picture.

He had come to her when the lights went out and stayed with her until he thought she was asleep. His fingers had caressed her cheeks so softly as they pushed strands of her hair behind her ear. It was a huge gesture for a man who had barely spoken to her in the past five years.

She wrapped the covers tightly around her and whispered into the darkness. "Goodnight, Murtasim."

Her room then filled with the sounds of her happy squeals as she buried her head in the pillow, basking in the warmth of Murtasim's worry for her.

---------------------------------------------

The warmth didn't last.

She thought things would be different. But he almost looked past her at breakfast the next day.

He hurried out of the house as soon as he inhaled his breakfast.

The dark circles under his eyes had deepened, indicating that he needed at least a few days of sleep. She yearned to push him back into his room and tell him to sleep until he didn't look the way he did. To beg him to work less than he did. To ask if she could help him with anything.

He didn't return until dinner, speaking of a phone call he needed to take after dinner, even as he ate, inhaling the food again.

He didn't even look at her, not like he had during lunch the first day she arrived.

Not like he had in the kitchen as she made him something to drink.

It was like she was invisible.

He didn't look at anyone really, just at his phone, his eyebrows furrowed, lines in his forehead.

It went on for days.

Her agitation grew with every passing day. She watched him like a woman starved, and he didn't even look at her.

"Your brother is different now." Meerab muttered to Maryam as the two of them sat in the living room, cups of tea in their hands as she read over an assignment Maryam had to submit the next day.

"Different?"

"He barely...talks."

"He never really talked to anyone but you much anyways." Maryam had a smile on her face.

"Maryam." She sighed. "You know what I mean."

Maryam sighed loudly before speaking in a hushed tone. "Bhai has changed a lot since you left. He's always stressed about something, caught up in something, or angry because of the constant stress. He rarely smiles anymore."

She had noticed that.

The Murtasim she had known joked around with her. He smiled at her in the hallway. He pulled on her hair as he walked by her. He gave her his undivided attention when she asked for it.

"Bhai walks around like everything is okay, that he can handle it all. And he does. But it's too much for him." Maryam sighed then. "He doesn't tell anyone how he feels...I haven't seen him shed a tear, even in frustration, since the day baba passed away."

All of Mariam's words made her heart hurt. The realization that he struggled while she wasn't here was almost too much to bear, making her wish that she had been around. Perhaps, she could have helped in some way. Meerab had seen how exhausted and stressed he seemed to be first hand upon her return. Her heart ached to help him, to ease his burden in any way possible. She wanted to see him happy and carefree once again.

"But it can't be helped." Mayam sighed. "Enough about that, when are you hearing back results from the LAW-GAT?"

Meerab shuddered at the name of Pakistan's bar exam. "I don't want to talk about it." She whined.

Maryam laughed. "I am sure you passed."

"I don't know, I'll hear back in two weeks."

"It's okay, bhai will still marry you even if you fail." She grinned.

Meerab was about to whack her when she noticed her grinning face, her eyes were not on her but set behind her.

Her heart sank, she had a feeling that Murtasim stood behind them in the room, and as she turned slowly, she realized that was in fact that case.

Her eyes went to the clock, it was 11pm, he had missed dinner again. He looked tired...again. The suit he had left the house in that morning was wrinkled in places, a testament to his long day.

"Right, bhai?" Maryam teased.

Meerab couldn't be sure but she thought she saw an imperceptible nod. He didn't answer Maryam's questions in words though.

His eyes were on her even as his sister teased him.

He had been distant lately, barely speaking to her or even looking her way. But now, he was staring at her with tired eyes, his gaze trailing over her face like he had never seen it before.

Meerab's heart skipped a beat as she wondered what had caused the sudden change. She tried to read his expression, but it was inscrutable. All she could see was the weariness etched on his face. She yearned to chase it away.

For a few seconds, Murtasim continued to stare at her, and Meerab felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She wasn't used to being the object of such intense scrutiny, her heart fluttered at his attention, forgetting how miffed she was at his indifference over the past few days.

Then, just as suddenly as he had started, Murtasim turned and left the room. Meerab was left alone with her thoughts, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She wondered if she should follow him and ask him what was wrong, but something held her back. 

----

A/N: Let me know what you think! What is Murtasim up to? Haha.

Just a heads up that I also updated Mohabbat Nahi, Ishq  a couple of minutes ago if you haven't read that yet.