مجھے تم سے شکایت نہیں لیکن
یاد آتا ہے تیرا مجھ سے محبت کرنا۔
Mujhe tumse shikayat nahi lekin,
Yaad ata hai tera mujh se mohabbat karna.
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Emaaz was called away from his friends and Mardan Khana on request of Hammad and Hakim sahab. Haim and Yaman were not to stay today at the palace anyway. They had far too interesting matters or subjects capitivating their selves. He smirked at the thought.
As soon as he entered the main residential building of Durrani Palace, a helper directed him to Mumtaz Begum's side who stood with a bowl of kheer alongside Rushna and Mina begum. Kheer was his favourite desert. Made with milk and rice cooked on the stove for hours and hours that too by his Dado Maa's hands.
She fed him kheer first and spoke next. As she knew a spoon of kheer could soften his mood. He was far too serious, wise beyong his age but also very uptight with all the responsabilities and the role that fell on him. Playing politician and martriach of such massive state were things not to be taken lightly.
However, he didn't expect what came next. He was already confused on the kheer part.
"Emaaz beta aj se meri Layla, mera dil, tumhare hawale. Uske wali ne Layla ko tumhare nikkah me buchpun me hi de dia tha or ab me de rahi hu. Me umeed karti hu tum uska khayal rakhoge." Mumtaz begum's words shocked him. He was expecting this but not today itself. Did they expect him to play house when his brother was in a coma.
"Dado maa aisa acha nahi lagta hai is moqe pe. Bhai or chachu hospital me hai. Ap.." He started extremely embarassed but was cut off by a hand of Hammad's sahab at his shoulder.
"Beta hume ehsaas hai in sab chizo ka. Hum behtar jante hai apse. Bachi intezat kar rahi hai apka." He bowed his head and stormed towards his room because that's why he was called right. To give their Noor-e-Nazar her rights. Hammad sahab gave him no room as those two already discussed the matter to lengths of it in Mehman Khana.
Mumtaz begum saw his reatreating back with thumping heart. She prayed and prayed for their happiness. Otherwise these two would have never resolved their issues. She hoped the froced closed proximity will bring these two together. She started giving sadqah thawls to all nineteen maids present.
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Emaaz opened the door of his room and with gritted teeth snapped the door back shut. He couldn't control his anger. All the pent up hurt, anger and frustration came rushing back to him.
Is larki ne use kahi mun dikhane qabil nahi chora tha. Na khandan walo ke samne or na uske apne dil ke samne. Worst of all she didn't trust him when he needed it the most. He could care less about everyone else thought. He taught her better than this. She should have barged into his room and slapped the living shit out him. But no, she chose to abandon him and run away. He never resented that she was younger than him and at such young age they bestowed her responsability on him. He loved her, as simple as that. He only ever gave love and care to her.
He never showed an ounce of anger on Kanza. He did not hit her. He did not intend to punish her when she got married to Ghafran. It was mere fate that he turned out to be a bastard. He just wanted her to move on from her baseless infatuation. He would solve that matter too.
But Layla? Layla was another matter altogether. He did not expect her to be sitting in the middle of his bed in a bridal attire. Oh the nerve of his little minx. She was playing with fire. He could not beleive his eyes. By sitting on his bed in a traditional attire she was pouring gasoline on already ignited fire inside him. Did she not realise these flames will lick her bare alongside him.
She was dressed in a saree that was displayed in the family potraits of Mumtaz Begum adorning the walls of the palace. A royal red saree with so much detail and work from gold that it was a wonder Layla agreed to wear this but then. He did not, could not see the details from this afar. All he could see were her slender arms around her knees in a traditional pose.
Her fingers trembling, bare of any mehndi but adorned in their traditional family gold and diamond bangles. Her fingers bare of any rings just spotted a giant family heirloom diamond that belonged to the lady of the house. Her creamy white feet could be seen digging in the bedsheet trying to control her shaking. Her head covered in a heavy ghungat bowed down to her knees.
He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. He grew up before Layla, understood basic human needs before her. He also restrained himself when all his wealthy friends made way to porn and prostitues to learn the ways of sensual art. They urged him and some who dared also said that it was going to take a while for Layla to grow up. So why not indulge in a little fun. Most asian men thought that experience with protitures made them more desirable to other girls. He did not have that shitty mentality. For those who gave him their unsolicited opinion. They did not have their tongue with them anymore.
He abstained. He wanted to wait for her. Kanza held no candle to her. No girl or courtesan in his entire vista did. Now that he had her there on his bed. All came rushing back to him.
He made his way towards her.
Layla tried to control the shiver runing down her spine. She felt tears rushing down her cheeks. She heard him enter and then he stood staring at bed for good five minutes. Now that she heard his footsteps again she bit her lips hard to control her eratically beating heart. She was ready to take the next step in their relationship. Whatever it took to get her closer again with Emaaz. Even if she was trembling from nerves and fear but she won't say no to him. Not now not ever. She sat on his bed today with a clean heart. Letting go of past and her stupid immature childish actions.
Emaaz extended his hand towards her. He stood there for quite some time before Layla put hers in his. Her hand was ice cold to touch. His massive hand engulfed hers in his. Slowly the warmth seeped into her hand. He tugged her so she sat up straighter.
He saw the half saree blouse highlighting each detail as she was sat on the bed and because he stood above her. Her ample cleavage and her bare midriff that could be seen heaving from her erratic breathing. He stood her up infront of him with a sudden jerk. She fell on him as the tug was quite forceful.
She grabbed his white kamiz in her fists and felt the warmth radiating from his muscles. He had a hard body underneath. It felt like a wall to her soft fingers. She flexed and unfelexed them making him shudder.
Emaaz snaked a hand through her waist and tugged. Layla gasped under her veil. Her breasts made contact with his hard rock like body. Layla flushed from head to toe from the body to body contact.
He did not lift her veil. He just raised his hand and lifted her chin and kept holding her and saw her face in the hues of red. Her lios trembled, her face ashen from anxiety.
This close when their breaths mindled with each other he could see every single deatil. He saw that her face was bare of any makeup but her hair were thrown at her back. Her forehead supported a mang tikka and a jhumar, her full size nath touched her trembling lips. Her earrings dangled on her slender neck. Her sat lara touched her bare belly button as the saree pallu shifted and was on the floor in this tugging war.
Her eyes were downcast and her hand fisted his kameez. He took notice of her every inch and then abruptly left her there and made his way into the dressing room.
Layla staggered backwards with a flinch and lifted her eyes in shock to his retreating muscular back. She felt humilated, he did not utter a single word and yet said everything.
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Note: Next chapter is my favourite till date. Want to see how Layla was dressed? To see Layla's dress and moodboards of the story follow me on instagram @maskofgold_
Hint: Maybe you guys can convinve me to post the next update straight away?
