As He Closed The Doors

As She Pulled Me In

“Aur tumhe pata lag jayega".

Stating so with the most vex-worthy air of confidence one can come up with, she turned her back to him, smoothly swimming her way forward. She climbed out of the pool, jerking his remaining breath out of him. He felt like fire, he breathed fire….damn, why does she do this to him? Every single time. Why. So much control on a man all about exercising control....

He stood there, convulsing with the ever enigmatic carnal desire, the heat of his frustration -a mockery to the water he stood in. He stood there to ponder on the oxymoronic mess that his life has turned into, not to mention the whole lot of thrillers and erotic unattended interests that only add to the torture.

Goddamn it. What has he got himself into? This “ nikkah “ was no less than a cataclysmic event in his life, having him in a spot where he never really knew what to expect from it or what to expect in the very next moment. Yet that was never the problematic part, as he was well aware that for two people as unpredictable and bull headed as the two of them the idea was only normal but the problematic part was his being painfully, desperately and harrowingly famished for his “officially wedded wife". And he had enough brains to understand that was not just physical. He was as famished for her emotionally as he was physically. He seeked her emotional submission as much as the physical one, if not more at times. That's exactly why he was beginning to embrace his feelings for his wife as an intimate one, that too at a deeply unblemished and primal level.
The extent to which she could affect him was insane! Even when Each and every action of hers are excruciating enough for him to feel like having her strangled (the emotions being mutual for as long as he could remember), yet her defiance only has him wanting her more desperately than before. He has never felt more hopeless and done with the pitiable condition he was in, but there’s no denying the fact that he enjoyed this chase. It’s less than rare for Khan Murtasim Khan to chase anything he wants, since childhood he normally just had to name it to have it presented in front of him on a gold platter. Afterwards, he simply took what he wanted . At times, snatched.
However, it’s true. To Chase is so much more exciting and engaging. He would have never known had Meerub Waqas not been this frustratingly non chalant towards him while he was on the verge of combusting out of need for her.

Like the present moment.
He stood there, practically branding every square inch of her frame with his eyes, feeling his straining arousal topped with his congested anger licking its way through. She had on a sequined black suit, a green embroidered dupatta pinned to her side ,which did hint towards certain conscious or subconscious effort at dressing on her part -the idea sending warm flush of pleasure through him amidst all his claimed exasperation. Meerub had never been one for dolling up, since childhood she was effortlessly gorgeous and Murtasim suspected, that she was well aware of the fact contrary to her apparent attitude. Thus, she never really bothered. Until today.
The woman had invested and as a consequence she stood drenched wet, the garnished netted material hugging onto her curves like second skin . Her wet curls held on to her beautiful face, giving it the pedestal that was worthy of the same. Droplets of water clung onto her snowy body peel, as if in sheer veneration. The tint of rose that played across her face and down her neck, was a proof of her annoyance and her triggered pride. How can anger possibly make one look all the more delicious? So pure yet such vivacious sensuality. Her anger is an unconscious lesson in seduction in itself, who would know that better than him?

 Astaghfirullah, had se jyada khoobsurat ho tum Meerub. And you have my soul disarmed and handcuffed to you in ways I don’t understand.

She was. She was beautiful inside out. As were her principles.  Yes, He did not always understand them neither did he try to but that doesn’t mean he never recognised them to be pure. He knew it to be so when she was publicly hitting a man who assaulted his wife, he knew it on their valima night when for the first time in the world he was brought up in, he saw someone so innocently yet determinedly blur the ever-prevalent lines of segregation between people of that system.
He had come to recognize her principles and unwantedly respected them even, despite of his frequent inability to accept or understand the nature of the same.