Tere Hawale - TereBin Fan fiction (OS)

8. Fikr

Meerab kept twisting and turning. The mattress that often comforted her back after every restless day was also unhelpful. She kept shifting her body, the rustling of the duvet and the friction her clothes created was loud in the soundless night.

Her long hair kept getting stuck under her body as she turned from left to right and then again from right to left. Her sleep just did not seem to come. And she knew why. Even though her relationship with Murtasim was tumultuous. Both of them cared for each other and longed for each other. While Murtasim often expressed his feelings, Meerab kept them buried deep, safe from the evil eyes of the world.

Meerab left a long sigh and opened her eyes. Her pupils adjusted as they took in the light that filled the room and turned right to switch off the lamp next to her. But her hands remained stretched, her eyes stuck to what she saw. Murtasim lying on the chase, one of his legs hanging precariously, his pillow on top of him. "How does he manage to sleep there" she muttered, as her feet with a mind of their own climbed out of the bed. She picked up the yellow drape that lay on the bed and carried to Murtasim. She placed it at the edge of the chase and very slowly lifted his right hand to pull the pillow out of his grasp. She continued to unfold the drape and started placing it over Murtasim, like a mother tucking her child to sleep. She bent forward to bring his left hand over his hard stomach, the back of her palm between his hand and his hardened stomach for a millisecond - she tried to brush off the electrifying sensation. She focused on ensuring he was comfortable.

He seemed all tucked in from where she stood, but she wasn't satisfied. She walked in front of the chase and dropped to her knees as she continued spreading the drape and pulling it up to his chest and closer to his neck. His breath was long and strained, she couldn't move her hands away as she kept holding the drape closer to him. A knot formed in her stomach, her chest constricted, almost as if she was holding her breath. She knew she was holding back because all she had ever wanted to do whenever she was near him - was to touch his face, bring him closer to her, place her head on his chest, envelope him in her arms, and just never let him go. But she held back, to save herself, her sanity, from yet another heartbreak.

Her gaze locked on his face. She did not want to leave. She could keep sitting there for hours, staring at him. She couldn't hold herself any longer. She knew he was hurting and he had gone off to sleep with anger and probably also sadness still brewing. She lifted her hands up to his face and placed her palm on his bearded cheeks, softly brushing and stocking his jaw with her thumb.

"Kaise kahun tumhe ki tumhare siva aur koi nahi hai, bas tum ho" She sniffed.

She brought her left hand up placing it across his chest to his shoulder and stroked it. "Tumhari fikr hai, tumahara udaas rehna mujhse khafa rehna just breaks me, tears me" She said as her lips trembled. A lone tear escaped her eyes. Her hands found their way to his head as they brushed his hair devoid of the gel that he often applied. There was a softness to his face, her eyes scanned his face, and she could find pain, that he hid from everyone. Stress lines on his forehead were visible even as he slept. She left a feather-light touch on his forehead, brushing over his stress lines, making a futile attempt to relieve him.

She pulled her hands back, wanting to let him be and not continue anymore, fearing she may break his sleep. She brought her fingertips to her lips kissed them and then placed her fingers on his forehead, briefly closing her eyes, She got up, glancing at him for one last time, and prepared to walk over to the bed.

As she took a step, a hand grabbed the wrist of her left hand, her eyes drew big, fearing, taking a moment to herself. She turned back to see Murtasim's head turned over, his forehead creased, and his body pulled up as he held her hand. "Kaha ja rahi ho? Aur ye kya harkat thi" He rumbled, positively hiding his glee. She did leave a kiss on his forehead. He fought a smile, but maintained a facade, displaying his fake annoyance.