Enwrapped

Chapter 08

Filled with alarm and fear, all she wanted was to flee the room. Without glancing back, she reached behind, her hand fumbling desperately for the door handle, desperately seeking an exit.

"Shh, it's okay," a familiar, soothing voice reassured her, instantly quelling her fears as its warmth enveloped her.

"Muzammil?! What are you doing here?" she whispered.

It was in that moment that she realized he stood shirtless. The soft yellow glow from the fairy lights outside cast a muted illumination, outlining the contours of his strong, athletic shoulders and arms as they entered the room. Flustered, she instinctively covered her face with her hands, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over her.

Peeking through her fingers, she glimpsed his silhouette, the tension of the situation mixing with her flustered emotions. Her cheeks flushed with heat, and she silently prayed for the ground to swallow her whole. In the awkwardness of the moment, she struggled to find the right words, her mind racing.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, I wasn't expecting—" Her voice trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. The room was charged with an odd energy, an unexpected intimacy lingering in the air between them.

He chuckled softly, a reassuring warmth in his voice. "No need to apologize. I mean, it's not that bad...now that I'm your fiancé."

In his eyes, she radiated an ethereal glow, an inner noor that surpassed any external radiance. Her choice of attire, a resplendent yellow anarkali, cascaded elegantly from her waist, gracefully trailing down to kiss the floor. The garment's thick gold borders shimmered even in the faintest light, adding a touch of opulence to her ensemble. A chiffon dupatta modestly veiled her chest, while her dainty hands delicately toyed with its fabric, adding to her enchanting allure.

"I'll leave..." she slowly mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear. He shook his head.

He emitted a disapproving click of his lips before striding purposefully toward her. "And where do you think you're off to, hmm?" His voice carried a playful yet earnest tone, gently challenging her attempt to escape.

"You're trying to get away from me after dazzling me with this heavenly appearance?"

He leaned closer and closer, until their bodies had collided amongst each other and to the wall.

"Muzammil," she murmured, not having the courage to look up.

"It is so hard to control myself now," he mumbled, touching his forehead to hers. Her breathing was harsh, and so was his. Lack of breath, lack of restriction...

Kuch ho na jaaye.

"You're so pretty... you know what I want?"

"I want to take you right by this wall. Claim you as mine, touch you, love you, everywhere...."

She covered his lips with a trembling hand, and then, standing up on her tiptoes, kissed the barrier between them. He shut his eyes.

"Then marry me," she breathed, emotions pooling into her eyes, her pupils dilating. "Take me to your home and make me your wife." Muzammil kissed the hand that covered his mouth and slowly slid off his face, placing it firmly on his chest.

"Your home is here."

She leaned closer and leaned into his chest, collecting her thoughts and calming him down.

"I'll talk to mama about the wedding," he slowly said, pressing a kiss to her hair. "They'll come soon for a date."

~

That night, when Israa sat oiling Muzammil's hair, he caught her hand all of a sudden and halted it. Israa was perplexed.

"Muz-"