𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐀

26. 𝗗𝗶𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝗶 𝘆𝗮 𝗞𝗮𝗯𝗮𝗮𝗱 𝗸𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗮?

❛ Tere har ilzaam ne mere dil ko cheer diya.
Tere shak ne mere pyar ko bebuniyad kar diya..❜
~Mehek Syed.

Third Person's POV:

Mahoor sank down onto the bed, ripping the choker necklace from her neck with a harsh tug. She heaved a heavy breath and gripped the comforter tightly in her fists. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm herself down, fighting against the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

"P..par nikkah toh ek hafte baad tha na?"

"Irada ab badal gaya."

He went away, leaving Mahoor alone to absorb the news by herself.

She had thought there would be a week, to prepare herself or at least come up with some way to avoid this marriage, but now she barely had a day as the clock struck midnight. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, leaving her feeling cornered and desperate.

Now, burying everything aside, Mahoor had to get Seyran out of the basement. She didn't know how, but she was going to try her best to talk to Altan to get her out of that hellhole, even if it meant giving everything of herself in return-which Altan was already taking anyway.

Mahoor stood up from the bed and marched toward the door. "Dekhti hoon na kaise nahin maanta yeh psycho mafia!" she muttered angrily to herself while placing her hand on the knob.

She paused. "Knock karoon kya?" Shaking her head, she continued, "Nahin, yeh gora pahaad khud bina knock kiye andar aa gaya tha. Allah ka shukar hai main bikini mein nahin thi! Main bhi aise hi ghusungi," she twisted the knob, "Kyun ke acchai aur morals gaye ab tel lene. Bohot kar ke dekh liya acha ab" she opened the door and stepped into his bedroom, "Meri baari Komolika banne ki."

As she stood at the entrance, she noticed the room was dimly lit, with only the moonlight brightening the darkness. Altan wasn't there; the room was vacant. Her eyes fell on the coffee table, which held his phone and a typewriter.

She took a step forward towards the coffee table, only for her dress to get tangled beneath her feet, causing her to fall flat on her face.

"Dress, teri maa ki chudiya!" Mahoor whimpered in pain, raising her head slightly as she rubbed her nose to ease the stinging sensation.

"Itna toh bhai koi kisi ke pyar mein bhi nahi girta jitna main girti padti rehti hu!" She muttered as she tried to lift her upper torso, only to collapse back onto her chest again with a frustrated sigh.

"Phir mere pyar mein gir jao, sambhal lunga tumhe." Altan emerged from the shadows of the closet, his voice carrying a teasing tone. His eyes held a hint of amusement as he approached to help her up, the soft moonlight highlighting the gentle expression on his face.

Mahoor's head snapped towards him, she immediately buried her face in the ground as she clutched her head in humiliation. Her cheeks burned with mortification, even though no visible blush showed on her wheatish skin.

'Aye uparwale please mujhe tu sahi mein uthale!'

Altan knelt beside her sleeping form and, caressing her dark tresses that shone in the moonlight, whispered, "Manta hu humari mangani hogayi hai par hum shadi se pehle ek saath, ek kamre mein nahi reh sakte. Shareef mard hu main."

Mahoor's head shot up, and she snapped at him, narrowing her eyes and smacking his hand away, "Aapka kutta ya billi hoon main, jo mere baal sehla rahe hain?"

She pulled herself up and stood hastily, her russet brown eyes blazing with fury, "Aur apna dimag gutter se nikalein, samjhe! Jab mujhe kidnap kiya tha tab toh shareef hone ka khyal nahi aaya aapko, hein? Tab kaha gayi thi aapki ye so called sharafat?"