**A Wattpad featured story**
Bekhudi || بیخودی
❝ He gently dragged his hand around the delicate skin of my neck, slowly caressing it under his stifling touch. I felt his breath curling against me, as a wave of sultriness rod...
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Tum pehle bhi itni khoobsurat thi ya waqt ne kiya koi haseen sitam تم پہلے بھی اتنی خھوبصورت تھی یا وقت نے کیا کوئ حسین ستم
I knew I was dreaming.
But for the time I did not care. It was still very early in the morning and the sunlight had begun to blur the darkness away. The morning dew hung like silk in the air filling the horizon with a halo of sweet joy and serenity. The silent crackle of the morning sparrow awoke every soul in its surrounding. I stirred a little, stretching my tired limbs, and then trotted down bare feet on the wet grass of the garden.
The blades of the grass tickled the soles of my feet, but the curling fog around the floor made it difficult to see. It was cold and my cotton shirt did a poor job of fending off the biting chill of the winter morning. I looked down, taking in the appearance of the wrinkled white shirt that ended just above my knees, but my arms were completely swallowed by the length of the sleeves.
This wasn't my shirt.
I stood in the middle of the garden, my confusion eating upon me, when I felt the cloud of fog began to thicken around me, blurring my vision and drowning the beautiful garden I was in. I frantically looked around, when I saw a shadow appear from within the clouds.
Aliyaar.
He edged closer and I noticed the soft appreciative smile play upon the corner of his lips. Even his eyes smiled, impish and full of life. So imperfectly perfect.
"I never thought you'd look this in my shirt." His eyes warmed with approval, languidly trailing down the length of my body. His lips smirked with pride. He came closer and I could hear his lips mumbling sweet compliments in my ears. His hand reached out and twisted the tendril of hair lying on my face and then tucked it away behind my ear.
"So innocent." His fingers traced down the side of my face and then cupped my jaw. "So pure." he mumbled. His thumb caressed my cheek, stroking the soft flesh with a featherlike touch. His touch kissed me like dew speckled a petal in the breeze. But despite the softness, his touch felt warm, almost welcoming.
I smiled, drawing closer to his inviting warmth. It felt good. It felt nice. His fingers laced through the lissome strands of my hair, ruffling and then stroking them with his hand. I relaxed under his touch, relishing the soothing feeling. If only we could stay like this forever.
"Who would have thought I'd fall so hopefully in love with you." His voice fell upon my ears and I felt like he was studying me with an acute concentration, watching me with an awful placidity. His words kept echoing into the stillness of our surrounding. And my pulse ratcheted in my throat, pounding with wild pleasure.
