Torment of Separation

Azaab

Hey everyone!

After watching such a disappointed confession I decided to have my own take! This is what happened in Meerasim's room. Let me know if anybody is interested in a continuation. Please like and comment :)

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"Meri kya aukaat hai aur uss contract ki kya haisiyat hai, ye abhi batata hun main tumhe," he spat out angrily, forcefully pulling her hand and causing her to crash into the bedpost. 

He hurriedly paced towards the door and locked it from inside, intensifying Meerab's fear. As he approached her with fury in his eyes, he gripped her cheeks tightly, his voice filled with rage. "Yeh?" he growled, squeezing her cheeks, his grip bordering on painful, "Itna guroor?" he hissed, unable to fathom her arrogance. "Tumhe lagta hai aaj tak mujhe ye sab na karne se uss contract ne roka hain?" He forcefully pulled her closer, compelling her to meet his piercing gaze. Witnessing her contemptuous view of him tore him apart. He felt devastated to witness how lowly she thought of him. It was demeaning, making him feel utterly cheap. "Hmm?" he growled menacingly, his voice dripping with venomous anger and disdain.

"Dil toh kehta hai ki jaan le lu main tumhari," he seethed with disgust, shoving her away with a violent force that made her flinch.

Tears welled up in Meerab's eyes, a mixture of guilt, anger, and love. Her doubt had been fueled by Haya's manipulations. She knew Haya left no opportunity to sow seeds of misunderstanding between them. But when she saw them embrace, her rationality crumbled, leaving her helpless against the onslaught of emotions.

"Contract kaha par hai?" he angrily questioned, gripping her shoulders with a force that left imprints of his fingers. "Where is it?" he repeated, his anger simmering.

"Kya kar rahe ho?" she shouted as he let go of her and began searching for the papers, throwing things around. He frantically rummaged through the belongings, carelessly tossing objects aside in his blind fury.

Meerab, now trembling with fear, regretted her impulsive actions. Yes, she had struck him and defiled him with her contempt, but remorse coursed through her veins.

"Yeh?" he snarled, thrusting the paper towards her accusingly. "Iss ki wajah se?" he seethed with anger, wrenching her towards him and twisting her hand behind her back making her gasp. "Batao Meerab? Rok sakti ho tum mujhe?" he demanded, as she fought desperately against his iron grip, her nails digging into his flesh in a desperate bid for freedom. Pulling her closer, he eliminated any breathing space between them, emanating his searing rage. His strength overwhelmed her as tears streamed down her face. "Chodo mujhe," she struggled, pushing him back with her free hand. In a fit of fury, he angrily threw the paper onto the bed, securing both her hands behind her back with a vice-like grip.

His other hand clasped her hair, yanking it forcefully, forcing her head to tilt back, her eyes meeting his intense gaze. "Chodo mujhe, Murtasim," she said struggling to fight back her tears, inciting his ire. He tightened his grip on her hair, asserting his control, causing her to wince in pain. Yet, she persisted in her struggle, refusing to accept defeat or acknowledge her own vulnerability.

"Main tumhare saath jo chahe woh kar sakta hun!" he spat out, his voice laced with anger. "Aur mujhe koi nahi rok sakta, tum bhi nahi!" he shouted. She felt his raw aggression, his overwhelming presence. The pain from his grip mingled with the fire of their unspoken desires.

"Isse zyada kar bhi kya sakte ho tum?" she challenged, further infuriating him. They both knew he would never cross the line and disrespect her wishes, but her audacity angered him. He released his hold on her hair, his hand trailing down the length of her back with a possessive fervor. In that moment, with his palm gently caressing the fabric of her dress, that she felt an unspoken truth unraveling. The intensity of her desire for him took her by surprise, a hidden longing she had never fully acknowledged.

Her eyes fluttered shut, surrendering to the intoxicating rush of emotions that surged through her veins."Murtasim..." she lowered her voice, revealing the effect his touch had on her. His breath was hot against her skin as he pulled her closer, their bodies pressed together in an electrifying collision.

"Kya hua?" he responded with a mix of coldness and burning desire. He knew she desired him, her body betraying her even as her words fought against it. She had abandoned her dupatta, which now lay forgotten on the edge of the bed. Their bodies were touching and the proximity between them weakened her resolve, leaving her breathless as his hand firmly rested on her waist, holding her in place. 

The room felt suffocatingly small as they remained locked in their fierce embrace, their breaths mingling in a dance of raw passion. 

"Chodo mujhe" she demanded, her voice strained with discomfort, but he paid no heed as his fingers tightened around her waist, "Pehle maafi maango!" he barked ruthlessly.

"Maafi?" she asked him angrily, "Murtasim Khan!"

"Agar tum mujhe aur Rohail ko aise dekhte toh kya karte!?" she lashed out at him.

And that line was enough to send him over the peak! His control slipped like a frayed thread, unraveling his composure. Within seconds and pushed them to the closest wall scaring her.He pinned her against the wall with a strength that left her feeling small and vulnerable, her back pressed against the unforgiving surface. 

"Rohail?" he thundered his voice reverberating with a raw intensity that shook her to her core. Meerab's heart pounded against her ribcage, fear and desire entwined in a dangerous dance. Her mind raced, realizing the gravity of her misplaced words, the depth of the storm she had unleashed. 

"Tumhari jaan lelunga," he hissed through gritted teeth, his grip around her throat tightening. The edge of danger in his tone sent shivers down her spine, yet a part of her craved his dominance.

But even in the face of his unbridled rage, she refused to cower. Her gaze met his, unyielding, her defiance mirroring his aggression. The air crackled with their unspoken challenge, the clash of two indomitable spirits.

His eyes blazed with a dangerous mix of possessiveness and fury. "I hate you," she declared looking furiously into his eyes. The fact that she had taken the leap to propose to him, only to be met with this volatile situation, fueled the fire of her anger.

He closed his eyes momentarily, a fleeting attempt to rein in his anger and regain control. "Kya hua, nazara samne aa gaya?" she taunted, her words stoking the flames of his wrath. He could not resist the urge to retaliate with more hurtful words. "Agar itni nafrat hain mujhse toh khulla ka rasta hain tumhare paas" he spat out bitterly.

Her pride wounded by his cutting words, she couldn't help but question, her voice laced with jealousy, "Kyun? Tumhe Haya se shaadi karni hai?"

"HAN!" he snapped, his voice laden with a mix of frustration and longing. Meerab couldn't bear the thought of him choosing someone else over her. She fiercely seized his collar, drawing him closer with an almost violent force. "Murtasim Khan!" she said, her voice heavy with a surge of anger and desperation, her eyes blazing with a wild determination. As she leaned forward, ready to crash her lips against his in a display of her intense desire, he abruptly pushed her back, catching her off guard. His gaze lingered on her face, his eyes scanning her trembling lips, and finally searched her eyes for a sign of reciprocation. Without a moment's hesitation, driven by an insatiable hunger, his lips crashed against hers with a primal force. He devoured her with an aggression that matched her own, their mouths merging in a frenzied dance of dominance.

Their lips collided in a tumultuous clash, fueled by a fusion of anger, desire, and the complex emotions that bound them together. The force of their kiss was both a declaration of their intense love and an outlet for their pent-up frustrations. They bit down on each other's lips with a savage hunger. It was a rough and bruising exchange, a physical manifestation of the pain and anger that consumed them.

Time lost its meaning as they drowned in a sea of tangled limbs and heated kisses. They pushed and pulled, a turbulent dance of dominance and submission, fueled by an intoxicating mix of aggression and longing. Each touch ignited a spark, every whispered breath fanning the flames of their mutual desire. The room became a battlefield of passion, their bodies colliding with a raw intensity that left them breathless and yearning for more.