Okay, so we all were wondering that Meerab and Murtasim slept in that same comforter, but how did that yellow blanket/curtain come on the bed in the morning, so let's sneak peak to know...
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Murtasim lay in the dimly lit room, his mind buzzing with mischievous thoughts. The cast on his arm felt like both a hindrance and an opportunity. As he gazed at Meerab, peacefully asleep beside him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the woman who had entered his life through an arranged, forced marriage. In the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Murtasim pondered how to break through Meerab's stoic exterior, how to unveil the layers of her true emotions that she guarded so fiercely. A mischievous grin tugged at his lips as an idea began to take shape in his mind - a plan to tease Meerab and, in the process, draw her into a more playful and intimate connection.
His fractured arm throbbed with dull pain, but Murtasim saw an opportunity to turn it into a source of amusement. The room was silent, and the only sound was Meerab's steady breathing. He marvelled at how she managed to maintain an air of indifference even in her sleep, as if the world couldn't touch her.
"Shukar hai khudi agyi," he smirked
He had asked her to come and sleep beside him earlier that night, and she had refused, saying
"Mein yahin theek hun"
He knew that the god damn couch was extremely uncomfortable and that Meerab wouldn't stay there for long.
"What can I do to rouse her from this serene slumber?" Murtasim thought aloud, the wheels turning in his mischievous mind. "Perhaps a bit of theatrics, a touch of humour, and a dash of playful charm."
As he contemplated his plan, Murtasim couldn't help but reflect on the nature of their relationship. Meerab, with her guarded heart, had never openly expressed her feelings, yet Murtasim sensed a glimmer of something beneath the surface - a warmth that occasionally shone through in her actions, despite her carefully crafted facade.
He glanced at his cast, feeling a pang of discomfort that quickly transformed into inspiration. "What if I use this cast to my advantage?" Murtasim mused. "A fake complaint, a touch of vulnerability, and a generous sprinkle of humour - the perfect recipe to break through Meerab's walls."
With newfound determination, Murtasim began to rehearse his performance. He winced, grimaced, and let out exaggerated groans, testing the limits of his acting skills. The room became his stage, and Meerab, still lost in the realm of dreams, was his unwitting audience. As he contorted his face in mock agony, Murtasim couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of his own antics. "If this doesn't wake her up, nothing will," he thought, amused by the prospect of surprising Meerab with his unexpected theatrics.
The clock ticked away the minutes, and Murtasim continued his one-man show, perfecting the art of feigned pain. He envisioned Meerab's reaction - a mixture of irritation and concern, perhaps a hint of amusement if he played his cards right. In the midst of his rehearsal, Murtasim stole a glance at Meerab, who remained blissfully unaware of the spectacle unfolding beside her. A soft smile crept across his face as he watched her sleep. "She deserves a bit of lightheartedness," he thought, his affection for her deepening.
With his performance ready, Murtasim took a moment to appreciate the simplicity of the plan. "A broken arm, a touch of drama, and a sprinkle of charm - what could possibly go wrong?" he pondered, his confidence growing. As he prepared to put his plan into action, Murtasim couldn't shake the underlying vulnerability he felt. What if Meerab didn't respond as he hoped? What if she saw through his act and remained unfazed? The uncertainty gnawed at him, but he brushed it aside, determined to bring a touch of levity to their relationship.
