Gunnah e Shab

19. Yours • تمہارا

Book RC of the chapter is MAV by jonoyuk

*yes I'm moving these to the start of the chapter;)

RATED — 18+ FOR MATURE CONTENT.
* YOU will see a warning before the scene as well

If you remember me then, I don't care if everyone else forgets me — Haruki Murakami

A journey to the centre of the earth where magma was plenty and the pressure would crush her, would have been a better option than to lead Zaeem to the restroom. It was plain cruelty, to see the man who had ripped her life out of her hands untimely walk so calmly. With his steps lush and without anguish. Her heart swirled with hatred. It bubbled inside of her chest, dark ugly shade of green mixed with the reds of revenge. Threatening to flow out of her and burn everything that walked in her path. Ayna was in no mood to deal with the man who lazily stalked behind her.

Wordlessly she guided him to the restroom. Taking in his form, dressed in the crisp white kurta and trousers. The starchy cloth fit his biceps and spanned the length of his wide chest, in a delicious manner. It had Ayna's hormones racing a warmth falling into the pits of her stomach as she observed the lock of hair that fell carelessly onto his forehead. His sharp noble nose and pointed chin raised high. Eyes filled with arrogance—or so it seemed.

"I assume you can find your way back," Ayna spoke, her tone sharp.

"You assume wrong. Please wait for me, after all you are the host," he playfully winked.

Ayna gulped down the curses that she was ready to throw at him. He was at her sister's wedding. Just for her sake she would keep silent. Nodding her head slowly, deep in contemplation, Ayna crossed her hands on her chest. The fitted blouse rasing slightly and giving a peak at her soft navel. Zaeem felt blood rush to his face, his ears buzzing as he locked the door. Throwing splashes of cold water on his face to calm himself down. A thin door was all that separated him from his heart. It was now or never.

Taking a deep breath, waiting for his heart to still a bit he unlocked the door. Opening it wide enough to catch the look of annoyance on Ayna's face.

"Excuse me," he broke the awkward silence.

"Ab kia masla hai ap ko?" [What is your problem now?] She groaned.

"I—uh can't turn the tap off," he scratched the back of his neck.

Rolling her eyes, Ayna stepped inside the pristine bathroom. Turning the gold knobs around, before she could exit, Zaeem swiftly locked the door and pushed her against it. His hands going on either side of, trapping her between himself and the door. Sweating, she pushed her hands against his chest. Huffing she used all force in her body, however it was no match for his brute strength. Gripping her hands, he locked them above her head, leaning in. The two were eye to eye as he lowered himself. Their eyes full of passionate gazes, one with love and the other with hate. Electricity coursed between the two. Their skins heating as they maintained contact. Ayna's nails digging into his wrist.

"Janum why must you struggle so much?" [Sweetheart] Zaeem whispered.

His minty breath touched her eyelids. Forcing them to close and her heart to flutter upon hearing that name once again. His heavy baritone voice took her to the days of naivety. One of his hands lowered, the thumb tracing her face her flinching not going unnoticed. It caused Zaeem pain to see she no longer trusted him. But this was what he was here for. To win it back.