On the wet sand beside the seashore, the strong, tall man was laying with a cigarette in his hand. His bike parked a few feet away from him. The environment there was serene and noiseless as no one was allowed then on the beach that he owned. It was...
A/N: As I've announced before about deleting the last few chapters of 'His Soul' which were making me uncomfortable and restless. So to clear that mess I'm rewriting those chapters with a new plot (after her interaction with Adil). That's why I'm informing all my readers (old) so that they don't get confused.
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Hoppsan! Denna bild följer inte våra riktliner för innehåll. Försök att ta bort den eller ladda upp en annan bild för att fortsätta.
Hamza's act was terrifying Habiba to the core. When she escaped from his assault slapping him hard on his cheek, catching him off guard, she thought he would stop his lunacy. Her thought was proven wrong when he violently pulled her grasping her elbow and entered the washroom.
She could hardly walk properly through tripping a few times on her saree. The anchal of her saree wasn't in its place and she had zero intention to fix that as she was busy screaming at him to stop his madness.
Her shouting went to a deaf ear as he wasn't stopping rather proceed with the erratic behaviour persistently. The scene from a moment ago couldn't be forgotten by him which was exposed through his unusual ferociousness.
He was infuriated and he didn't know how to control that, which was why he continued doing things that satisfied his anger. Suddenly a shriek left her mouth feeling the cold water flowing down her body, standing down from the shower which he made her do so, forcedly.
He rubbed her bare waist angrily as if washing his touches from her body. He wouldn't let a mark stay on her body where his hand dared to contact.
Gritting her teeth, Habiba stood still tolerating his lunatic behaviour. Her breath quickened and felt anger boiling her body.
"STOP." Her tolerance reached the limit when he attempted to take off her saree sliding down the anchal from her shoulder.
The sudden screech seemed to bring him back to his sense. He saw her falling on the floor, crying loudly. She didn't care to cover herself properly despite being in a dishevelled state.
His shaky hand reached to rub the beard as his eyes roamed around anywhere except her. Breathing heavily, he pulled his hair back, angrily as realization hit him like a bucket of cold water poured down him.
Not wanting to bear her tragic state anymore he walked away from there stopping the shower. Entering the room, he marched around and a fist of curse left his mouth.
Feeling the craving for a cigar he was about to smoke again but stopped abruptly when he no longer heard her crying. Concern filled him and he quickly threw the lighter and cigar on the bed while rushing inside the washroom with a towel and her pajama.
His heart broke to pieces to see her hugging her leg trembling furiously in cold, her face resting on the knee. She turned to the other side angrily once meeting him coming towards her. She felt anger reforming her body feeling him covering her with the towel. He left the room once doing that, giving her the space she badly needed.
