Gunnah e Shab

31. Trip • سیر

The dreams that you dare to dream really do come true. — L. Frank Baum

The car sped through the motorway at a merciless speed. No indication of stopping as it whizzed past another rest area. The engine roared under the heavy black metal hood. Azmaray's death grip on the steering wheel showed just how serious he was. Gone were the signs of a laid back, prince. Instead he was replaced by a man with an icy stare and a freezing cold aura. Had Laila not known his reasons for such a facade she would have cowered away, scared from him. Last night when he had informed her of the situation, she had held him through his tears. The heart break and silent sobs reminded her of her ownself, a few days ago the truth of her own life had been revealed. The past blown to smithereens. Their ache and pain was the same, yet she had not missed how his eyes filled with joy when she repeated what he had told her.

"Even if everyone else forgets you, you'll always have a home in me, as long as you wish to".

Now their hands rested on her thigh. Joint tightly as they neared the Lahore exit. Just a few more minutes before they entered the city. She brushed incomprehensible patters on his hand, rubbing her thumb across his knuckles gently. Like a barely there touch, a mirage of a whisper. She crushed his hand in her own warm grip, the sweaty callousness of his hand rubbed into the softness of hers. Numerous kisses had been lain on his hands. Plenty of rubs and generous badly thought jokes she had cracked in the span of an hour. Anything loosen the frown across his handsomely crafted face.

"Laila did you crack jokes back at Heera Mandi?" Azmaray let the coldness in his eyes slip.

"Not really," she shrugged.

"I'm glad. Meri jaan they are awful," [My life] he spoke.

Laila pursed her lips. Glaring at him from behind the perfectly curled set of eyelashes. The generous wisps mere inches away from brushing the ends of her brows. She frowned and pinched the inside of his hand. Letting a victorious smirk dance on the ends of her heart shaped lips as he whined at her strength, her sheer brute strength.

"Maybe I should have married someone less uptight," she stared out of the window.

"Someone like Rangeen?"

"Definitely someone like him. He's quite charming with that car full of apple's". Laila nodded, seriously.

The two laughed after that, living through the vivid memories of their time spent with him. He was definitely a man beyond the leagues. Never had they seen a man so full of life, his words were jokes and yet he managed to drop some of the most important life lessons the very next minute. No one would at first glance belive he was enrolled for a PhD in the subject of chemistry. His loud manners contradicted that of a studious person, that was the best part about him. He never judged anyone. And taught you to never judge either.

"Azmaray when you meet your mother how would you feel? I mean now that I know Sarah mumani isn't my mother, and somehow she loved me like one. How would your biological mother love you? The one that carried you in the safety of her body. Cherished you before you even arrived into the world. That must be something beautiful, no?" She spoke, dreamily.

"I guess I would cry. To give up her year old son in order to save the other one. To save her whole family, it's a tough decision. I know she's going to be a woman of ironwill. And if I sob in her arms, I know I'll feel whole," he passed her a smile, the car cruising into the home of the Shams family.