TW: Self Harm- Suicide

I HATE DOING things that I am ordered to do. After Hunaid tumbles and rolls down the trap room, along with the steel box that jabs him- twice, first time making me wince, second time making me almost laugh, he stood up as if was never injured, I scrutinized his injury from a floor above, watching over him and breathing a sigh in relief when he dragged his leg. He was injured, so less dangerous then the bandits. But... if I could fight seven bandits all on my own, did I really need Hunaid Khan?

I could close the trap door and leave him right here to die, or I could trap him to release Saahil and help me reach Murtasim Khan. This was all a mess, but the previous fight with the bandits made me realise that I WASN'T WEAK.

For others it wouldn't be a big deal but for a woman like me who had always believed that women were weaker then men, today it shifted my perspective. The men who had tried to touch me at the parties, I could have easily broken their hands. My cousin, if I hadn't feared him, maybe I could have killed him. I should have killed him. My fingers tingled as I breathed, and then I heard him order, "Meerab get inside".

That tone... demanding as if he knew I would dance on his whims, but wasn't he the weaker one?

"No!"

That 'No' was not just to Hunaid, but to my father who had asked me to sweet talk so and so men, to the men who had tried to touch me inappropriately, to my cousin who had tried to rape me, and to the nikkah they tried to force on me.

No women rejected Hunaid. But I rejected him thrice.

"I beg your pardon?"

I made a thoughtful look, pouting to mock him, as I hummed, he sat there on the chair as if he was the king of this place. But... he was just an insufferable burden to me at this point.

Burden?

People project their own insecurities onto others, I was a burden on my relatives for so long that I learnt how to be invisible, this was me projecting my insecurity onto him. The place was dark like the room they used to lock me into. Walking into it was scary itself, and that's what made me upset.

"Will you sit there?"

Hearing his calm and collected voice after such a long time brought out a visceral reaction in me. He sat there unbothered, and a part of me wanted to jump at his throat literally to get a reaction out of him.

"Yes," I say and sit there dangling my legs, as I slowly pull away the ladder through which he could climb back up again.

His gaze is emotionless, as it flickers up at me, they go from my eyes to my bare feet and I quickly pull them to my knees scared that he would use them to drag me down.

He pulls away his gaze, and slowly opens the steel box, I stumbled back thinking he would point a gun at me but he removed the freaking mutton kebab, and he took a bite and then another, his jaw clenched tight.

Without sparing me a glance he replied, "Go on."

I stared at him, bewildered. How could he act so nonchalant while I was teetering on the edge of defiance and fear? I wanted to scream, to throw the box at him, to make him understand how much I despised being ordered around, but my anger was tempered by a gnawing fear. He had seen through my bravado, and now, his calm demeanor was unsettling.

"Go on," he repeated, his voice holding a note of irritation this time. He looked so unfazed, so casual, it almost made me more furious. My anger flared, but I knew I had to keep my wits about me. This was a battle of will as much as anything else.

"You think you can just sit there and eat while I’m stuck here with you?" I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended

His eyes finally met mine, and in them, I saw a flicker of something—was it amusement or just a cold, calculating assessment?

And he removed a baked cake, taking a bite, "You are free to escape".

The strong front collapses as I question him, "Then will you let Saahil go?"

He doesn't reply, as if he never heard the question. I felt my nerves ticking. I was annoyed beyond madness because of his indifference.

"What did I ever do to you?" I asked as the frustration, anger and sadness hit me all at once. He was weak yet he was in power.

The question got his attention, because he lifted his gaze from the food on the table, his eyes unreadable. When they make contact with mine, I could see them dilate, then they flicker away back to his fucking food.

The annoyance turns into desperation this time. Why me of all the servants and people he could hire? Why not Murtuza or Murtasim Khan's actual mistress? Why his enstranged fiance? Was he planning to kill me?

My eyes dropped to the ground, as I chewed at my nails, I was both hungry and anxious.

"You want some?" He casually offers not realising I was at edge and his one sentence sets me off.

I breakdown for the second time.

I scream not caring that the bandits would find us, not caring that it would rip apart Hunaid's earbuds like he was ripping my heart apart, it was frustration, suffocation and a building sense of uncertainty.

I was so tired of this life... running away and being caught, trying to take control of of my life and failing, and healing myself then breaking down the next moment.

My hands shake as I disappear from his sight almost crawling away, not wanting him to see me in this state.

"Meerab, are you okay?"
I hear him ask, his word triggering me instead of calming me down.

"Do you think I can't escape? Do you think I am a fucking doll of yours whom you could use as your pawn? You will use Saahil against me? Torture him to exploit me? I was so fucking stupid to believe that Murtasim Khan wouldn't be a monster like you. He could be worse. I wasted my life running from one hell to another. I should have chosen hell over running to him for help".

I was trapped again, with no one who would listen to me. I stared at the trap door, then at ring in my finger that was getting a stronger grip on my finger every second.

I try removing it, but it doesn't come off. So I use my teeth to slowly slid the ring out, and I throw it inside the room through the door.

"Give this to Murtasim Khan".

It rolls down a falls straight inside and now the weight is gone I decide this is it. 

"Meerab jangli jaanwar hai jungle mai.."

Even better...

The psycho train was far too gone now it wasn't an episode anymore, if it was, this was going to be the last one.

I was so fucking tired, of his threats, by the way he switched, my world was far too chaotic to handle this man. And my pride was even bigger to dance on his orders, I was walking aimlessly towards somewhere accidentally stepping onto a twig but did it stop me? No.

The bleeding reminded me that I was still alive. What was wrong with me?

Everything...

What was I living for? For a childhood fantasy to come true?

"Murtasim Khan is a monster".

The last shred collapsed, as I walked towards the greener area of the hill, it was so beautiful yet it didn't excite me. There were butterflies flying around, four weeks- that's how long they lived.

One of them sat on my hand and I froze wanting to enjoy this little moment as I saw it flapping its wings. Then I heard the sound of water flowing, there was a flowing river. I was a traveller, my body deserved to travel to places before it died.

So I walked towards the lake and slowly dipped my legs into the water feeling the coldness seeping into me, calming my mind. My shalwar got wet, as I stepped further, and stood at the rock. Admiring the view, this was it, I didn't wanted to die with pain, so I sat on the stone and placed my legs in the water. It was as if the flowing water was taking away all my worries and pain,

I looked down at the water, seeing my reflection distorted by the ripples. Who was this woman staring back at me? Was she strong, or just desperate?

As the current tugged at my shalwar, I felt the tension in my body slowly unravel. The weight of the world seemed to lift, even if just for a moment. I was alone, finally, with nothing but the sound of the river and the gentle rustling of the trees.

I dipped my hands into the water, watching as it slipped through my fingers. Was this how my life would be? A constant struggle against forces too powerful to control, only to find myself slipping through the cracks?

there was no savior in this story.

A sharp pain in my hand brought me back to the present. The butterfly had left, and in its place was a deep, gnawing ache that spread from my palm to my heart. I looked down, seeing the indentation left by the ring I had thrown away.

I was sleepy... the waves were calling to me, they were calmer than my father's lullaby. I was selfish and in the end weak like my mother, resorting to such means.

I sighed, resting my head on the stone as the sun kissed my skin, dry my wet shalwar. I heard the sound of patter, a dragging sound, "An animal?"

Before I could react, I was floating in the air once again.

By the hand calloused hands on my waist I knew for certain this was Hunaid.

"Let me go-" I demanded.

He didn't fucking listen.

My stomach churns, blood pounding in my head, as he carries me, how was he carrying me with the wound on his leg?

I fight against him, but to no avail. He doesn't mind my scratches or my kicks. It's as if they are uneffective. Was he too strong? Or were the bandits too weak?

"Climb down or I will push you", He warned me, the way he looked at me, there wasn't any arrogance but fear. What was he scared of? He was the stronger one. Nevertheless, I climbed down this time obediently because I was hungry. And there at the table was some food, I rushed there and took large bites of the cake.

"Sit", he ordered me, and I fucking listened by sitting on the chair he offered. He passed me the water bottle and I gulped it down.

I felt a tug on my hair, and I groaned as he bundled up my hair into a bun.

He sits on the ground and supports my leg with one hand, looking through the first aid kit as he finds a tweezer. The heat of his palm against my skin affects me, it was our first skin to skin contact, and it didn't feel vile actually opposite. 

His brows were furrowed as he concentrated on his task, "I don't need your help!"

He didn't reply just gave me a 'really' look. I was a mess, inside and outside. The numbness from before was gone now replaced by a sizzling heat, it confused me.

He tugs out a twig from my leg, and pain shoots up there. I hiss and clutch onto first thing that's near me, his hair, he looks up scowling as his dark hair falls on his forehead.

It was so soft that I had urge to pet it, but I didn't let my desires take control and backed off as he applied ointment on my sole. He neatly ties a bandage around my wound and stands back up wincing a little, that's when I realise he has a wound of his own. On his leg and it's bleeding.

___

Meerab felt guilty all of a sudden.

She came to his side, taking the the first aid box from him, "Patti kardu?"

Murtasim nodded as she rolled his shalwar a little and kneeled by his side.

She should've killed him if she wanted, escaped, locked him in here. He shouldn't be having such thoughts of a woman who was taking care of him despite his ruthless attitude.

He couldn’t control his thoughts, though. Her white kurti was wet and see-through. He gulped the saliva, his lips dry, as he swiped his tongue with it. There was something so sinfully addicting about her that he couldn't get enough of her.

A dark thought crossed his mind as his lips curved up, his eyes grazing her curves. If Meerab gave in, fell for Hunaid, she would he technically cheating on him with him.

Temptation, she was such a sweet temptation, and Hunaid knew her thoughts were as scandalous as his. But he wanted her to confess, her hand resting on his thigh, not realising the effect it would have on him.

She was a clever vixen, her eyes widened, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Did she read his thoughts?

He liked her this way, on her knees, confused, her pupils dilated, and her cheeks flushed. Her mouth was wide open, she was speaking to him, but he heard no words.

The medicine was messing with his mind, and she wasn't helping looking so deliciously tempting. She was everything he should have avoided, but he couldn't pull away from her.

His eyes went to the ring mark on her finger, indicating she was his to take. Yet she doesn't know, so blissfully unaware that she was his. So innocent yet tempting.

I wanted to end this fascination with her, I knew it was engulfing me slowly, this woman was my mission. She was supposed to die.

But the thought of seeing tears in her eyes, the look of betrayal. He couldn't have it, he wanted her fire, not her pain. He didn't want her to be scared of him, "Hunaid!"

She called the name that wasn't mine, and I inhaled frustrated.

"What?"

He asked, his voice rougher than intended. Meerab flinched slightly, her eyes darting up to meet his, and for a moment, they both paused, caught in the intensity of the moment. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows that danced across the room, making everything seem more dramatic than it already was.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

Desire, frustration, and confusion.

He wanted her, wanted to claim her, but he also knew the boundaries he should not cross.

"No, I am not. I am in pain..."

His heart ached at the thought of killing her, her nose wrinkled, her lips curved as if she was trying to read him.

He needed a cigarette... or maybe he needed a release. It had been a month since he...

"Can I help you?"

Hunaid's voice was rough as he responded, "I’m not sure if you can." His gaze was intense, conflicted, and his frustration was palpable. Meerab's heart raced, sensing the gravity of the moment. She knew she was walking a fine line between helping and complicating things further.

"Maybe I can?"

Meerab's eyes searched his face, trying to read his intentions. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken tension.He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze not leaving her. "Help me with what?" he asked, his voice rough and strained.

A million thoughts occupied his mind, the intrusive thoughts were winning. He leaned closer to her, Meerab couldn't look away because he was too unbelievingly handsome, his hair was ruffled, "Tell me... how will you help me?"

Meerab's eyes followed the trail of water that grazed his jaw and then his neck, disappearing behind his shirt.

His shirt was wet like hers, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

She was so fucking beautiful, he hated everything she did, it made him weak. It was pulling down his armours he was starting to question himself, if her one glance could drive him this crazy, what would happen, when he had a taste of her?

"Mujhe dekhna band karo!"

"Ab dekh bhi nahi sakta kya?"

"Na- hi", she enunciated and Hunaid licked his lips as he caught sight of her pink tongue. He was a starved man, locked with a temptation. 

And for some reason he didn't wanted to let go of her, yet everytime he hurt her intentionally or intentionally it left an ache in his heart and so many questions.

He wanted her gone, but when she walked away he limped his way to the chair dragged it towards the trap door and threw in the rope he had laying, after three failed attempts and falling on his ass, he was able to exit the cellar. And it took him ten minutes to find her, and where he found her? At the lake laying on a stone with her eyes closed, if the current flowed a little stronger it would have drowned her.

He dragged her back kicking and screaming, he couldn't let go of her.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Tried to drown yourself", this was her second attempt, he was furious that she considered dying over living with him when he  was the one who had killed her dreams and hope.

"Apni marzi se jee nhi sakti thi, ab mar bhi nahi sakti?"

She gives a short laugh, as Hunaid looks into her eyes,  his own bloodshot, "Mai tumhe ijazat nhi deta"

She scoffs loudly, looking at him as if he were some kind of clown, "Tum ijazat nhi dete mujhe marne ki?"

Mocking his sentence but he took it as a question so he repeated the answer, "Nahi, bilkul nahi", he gritted his teeth even the possibility hurting him, all of this was new for him, caring for a person, taking care of them, protecting them from themself.

"Tum mujhe apne haathon se maarna chahte ho?" He shook his head at her question as he removed the diamond ring from his pocket.

Taking her hand into his, "Mai chahta hu ke tum haste haste maro, jab tumhare saare baal safed hojaye aur aisehi safed suit mai tum haste huey apne shauhar ka naam pukaro".

He held her hand firmly, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the storm raging inside him. Her skin was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from his own hand. The dim light of the room cast long shadows on their faces, but his eyes, sharp and unwavering, held hers captive.

As he took out the diamond ring, it glimmered faintly, catching the light as if it had been waiting for this moment. He looked at it for a brief second, his expression softening as he focused on the symbol it represented. Without breaking eye contact, he slid the ring onto her trembling finger, a slow, deliberate motion.

Her breath hitched as she watched the ring settle into place, the cool metal foreign against her skin. His grip tightened slightly, anchoring her in the moment, refusing to let her retreat into the darkness she had tried to escape to earlier.

"Murtasim..." she whisper, the name barely escaping her lips. It was a name she had spoken with both love and hate, a name that had defined her past and haunted her present. And she was using it to trigger Hunaid, taunting him that Murtasim was her fiance, not him and he would be her husband. His face was unreadable, yet his voice was firm, carrying an undercurrent of emotion he hadn’t shown before.

"Haan, Murtasim," he repeated, as if affirming something to himself as well

Her eyes get glossy as she stood up from the awkward position from the ground and turned away. She had expected to hate him, to resent every moment in his presence, but now she was left feeling something else entirely—an unsettling mixture of fear, confusion, and a strange pull she couldn't quite name.

"Meerab," Hunaid's voice was softer now, almost tender as if he was trying to soothe the wounds he had inflicted, both physical and emotional. She flinched at the sound of her name on his lips, but she didn't move away, rooted to the spot by an invisible force.

"I don't know what do you want." Why was he doing all of this?

He wanted her...

She finally said, her voice breaking the silence that had grown between them, "I don't want this deal, I don't care about anything or anyone."

"Not even Murtasim Khan?"

"Especially not him!"

His eyes darkened at her words, and for a moment, the softer expression vanished, replaced by the cold, calculating mask she had seen so many times before. He reached out, his hand hovering just above her shoulder, but he hesitated, as if unsure whether to touch her or not. "You should care, though," he murmured, almost to himself.

"That's the man you have waited for half of your life!"

He was fucking livid!

"I am not here for your stupid games Hunaid" she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. He was upset as if she rejected him not Murtasim.

Hunaid finally let his hand drop, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her kurti as he did so.

"I want you to never ever remove that ring from your finger... you are Murtasim Khan's. Never forget that!"

___

They will start opening up soon💃 I know this book too slow🥲 but their characters aren't in my control anymore, and I don't want to rush it.