Muhafiz-E-Khan (Tere Bin MeeraSim FF)

13 - Marham

It was Murtasim's first time staying in the Khan's palatial estate overnight. It was dark from night having fallen upon them and eerily quiet for the revenge that was being extracted elsewhere.

The corridor light glowed in a shade of a warm yellow; Wisps snook in through the space beneath the bottom of the door, spreading upon the marble flooring. The numbing drugs where a god send, the ache that stopped him properly inhaling had been subdued for a while.

With each exhale, he studied the crisp light blue of the walls, thick covering cascading filled the corners of the room, imprinted with white flowers and swirls which was decorative for even an unslept in room.

Still, the pain killers were futile in numbing the whirlwind in his mind, knowing that Meerab hid the truth, lied whilst looking directly into his eyes. It hurted; the trust which had begun to sprout, blooming into a beautiful confession was founded on trauma - the gap between them was still rocky and uncertain.

She acted to protect him, lying to her baba to keep him happy too. Stuck in an awkward middle ground, Meerab was stretched thin with herself getting harmed - it made no sense to him. He had never nurtured her to be a bait, to be compromised- their love was always tender, and she was the laadli of the house- so he could never contemplate that the 4 years matured her so harshly, when he imagined her to be manifestly carefree and selfish.

On her memories swirling around Murtasim's mind, the door handle twisted with a metallic click, creaking fractionally with her peaking in. ''Murtasim?'' She called lightly, her voice velvety yet meek.

His head twist, propped up on a mountain of pillows.''Meerab,'' he said, recognising every syllable that belonged to her. There eyes met and all the waves stilled. The room was only flooded in an artificial light for a second before being engulfed in darkness again. The door locked behind as she tiptoed in.

''Kisi ne dekha to nahi?'' He asked into the abyss of nothingness. (Are you sure that no one saw you?)

''Sirf tum ho jo chupke aa sakta hai milne?'' She asked, coming to switch his bedside lamp on. (Can only you sneak around to come see me?)

It felt nice to be seen, for her to have been pulled towards him. The notion filled him with a tranquility, and ease that permeated every breath. Yet, he could not dull the hurt she had caused whilst trying to keep the peace. ''Yahan kyun aayi ho? Itni raat horhi hai, kisi ko patta lag jayega to-'' (Why have you come here? It's so late, if anyone finds out...)

Her eyes scanned over him laid in the bed, yet at an awkward half-upright angle. The short hair was soft and fallen onto his forehead, her fingertips longing to brush them aside. The tension in the squint between his eyebrows held her back, knowing she had caused Murtasim to unequivocally side with those whom he saw as enemies- they had a new shared aim, to punish Amar. Releasing a bated breath, she enquired, ''Naraz ho mujhse?'' (Are you upset with me.)

''I'm tired, aur tum...'' he trailed, looking at her checkered pyjamas, the cute folded collar with wide stripes of baby pink, hanging loosely from her shoulders. (I am tired and you are...)

''Tumhari fikar mei jaagi huyi hun,'' she finished off for him. At the same time as her voicing the concern, he pat the bed to welcome her to perch besides him. (I am awake from your stress.)

''Aik raat mei kya kuch ho gaya hai, to mujhe neend kaise aayegi,'' he asked as the mattress to his side sunk when she settled. The perfume that had been spritz onto her neck prior to the date, a clean sort of perfume, lingered around them from the night as a reminder of all that had ensued. (So much happened in a single night, so how am I supposed to sleep?)

''I'm sorry. I know it's my fault that bhai hit you,'' she admit, plain and guilt ridden. Her actions, the calculated step, and second guessing, hinted at a hesitancy simmering within her.