9 : True love (TS)

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Just because I felt Meerab need someone who could believe her and hug her tightly 💌. She also needs motherly warmth.
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Meerab ran towards her room to control herself from crying seeing Maa Begum hugging Mariyam. She is not jealous but she feels so bad to be treated as trash. She is misunderstood all the time by everyone in this house. Nobody understands and trusts her. She always tries to do good for others and falls into a big problem.

She entered the room hurriedly and locked the door behind her with tears in her eyes. Today she is missing her baba and ammi very badly. She wants to hug them and tell them how she is treated here. Like every daughter, she also wants to meet her parents and live in her maternal house whenever she wants. She is behaving rudely and showing that she doesn't care about them now but the truth is the opposite. She misses them a lot and feels empty inside whenever something reminds her of them. Maybe they are not her real parents but she loves them like real.

"What happened Meerab?", Murtasim asked with concern. He came back a minute ago and was reading a file when she came suddenly and her expression tensed him. He looked at her with worry and walked towards her. On noticing her fresh tears, he panicked because she is a girl who doesn't cry easily.

Meerab looked into his eyes and found concern in his eyes which she always found in her father. She always feels his fear and care but is scared to be proved wrong in the end. What if even he is acting and cheating on her with Haya? His concern always put her in a difficult situation. She always notices his efforts and his love for her but she has made a wall around herself which she doesn't want to break. Because if Murtasim betrays her then she will not be able to survive.

She opened her mouth to tell him that she is missing her family but felt her throat dry and couldn't speak a word. Her hands started trembling because she felt hollow inside today. She wants to meet her family today, one last time as she couldn't meet before. She wants to hug her mother and cry her heart out, she wants to ask why they married her forcefully.

This marriage is forced because if she didn't agree they were going to force this relationship on them. Both of them tried cancelling this marriage but no family member agreed so this is a forced marriage, not love, neither arranged.

When Murtasim noticed her hand trembling he held her hand softly and rubbed his thumb on the back of her palm softly to calm her. Sometimes someone's hand give us support. A shiver ran through her body when his cold hand hold her hand. She looked at him and her eyes softened, she calmed down and stopped trembling. Her trembling hands were trying to tell him about her mental state but his touch calmed her. The same touch which always feels like home and this touch is the only touch which makes her feel safe around him.

He dragged her towards the bed and helped her to sit on the bed softly without leaving her hand and without breaking eye contact.

"Bolo. Kya masla hai? ( Tell me what is the problem)", Murtasim asked softly which made Meerab come out of a trance and she noticed herself sitting on the bed. She wondered when and how she came from door to bed.

She wondered how his mere touch has a great impact on her, if he touched her before then she would have jerked him but she doesn't feel uncomfortable around him. And now she realised that he never made her feel uncomfortable before she was just scared to be used by someone again.

"Nothing", Meerab replied and looked down to hide her tears. A teardrop fell from her eye and landed on his hand. She got up and ran towards the door to go away from him as she is embarrassed now and doesn't want to look into his eyes. How can she get lost in him? Moreover, she doesn't want to talk about her parents with him as flashes of their fight came in front of her eyes which scared her. And the fact that they put her belongings in the store room. She is yearning for love, she wants someone to hug her and assure her that they believe her.

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