𝐌𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐚𝐭 𝐊𝐞 𝐀𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐨 (Do Not Read, Incomplete Story)

13. Dil | Heart | دل

❝Dil ke armaan aansuon
mein beh gaye

Hum wafa karke bhi
tanha reh gaye

Dil ke armaan aansuon
mein beh gaye. ❞

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Continues...

RUMI'S POV

"So that i can make you cry everyday." Zayan's whispered words shook me to my core, he stepped back to look at my tear stained face and I saw the smirk on his face, relishing in my discomfort.

'Make me cry?' I questioned internally.

'Was that his intention all along? Was it the consequence of my love for him?'

'Why my life is so miserable allah.?'

"Why?" I managed to whisper, but his smirk vanished, replaced by anger.

"You've been a brat, living a life of luxury. Now it's time to change that."

Ignoring my question entirely, he dragged me to the door and heartlessly threw me into the hallway. Desperately, I clung to the railing,preventing myself from hurting.

*THUMP!!* *THUMP!!* *THUMP!!* *THUMP!! *

My heart racing in shock.

Yes, he had thrown me out, heedless of any harm I could face.

The word 'brat' echoed in my mind, tears streaming down my face, my hands trembling from both his actions and his cutting words.

In a daze, I barely noticed the door reopening, my suitcase hurled towards me. Flinching, I stepped back saving Myself and he spat-"Take your filth yourself," before slamming the door shut once more.

Overwhelmed, I collapsed to my knees, a heart-wrenching sob escaping my lips.

What had just happened? Was this to be my reality now? I had dared to question his hostility, and he had cast me out. But what luxury had I ever enjoyed? If he harbored such disdain for me, why wouldn't he provide an explanation? I love him too much. If he can't love me back then atleast he can respect me.

Lost in my misery, I failed to register an older woman calling my name repeatedly until she took my arm, helping me to my feet and snapping me out of my daze.

"Y-yes?" I stammered, realizing she had been trying to speak to me.

Shaking her head, she murmured, "Zayan sir asked me to show you to your room," before leading me down the hallway.

Gathering my composure, I wiped away my tears and followed her, preparing myself for the reality that I would not be sharing a room with him. My dreams of waking up to his face each morning were shattered.

Stopping before a nondescript brown door, she turned to me, a hint of emotion in her eyes. Was it pity? But why?

"This is your room," she said, gesturing towards the entrance, awaiting my response.

"T-thank you," I managed weakly, opening the door to reveal a dismal sight.
.
.
.
.
The dirty room with little space beside a small bed and an overwhelming layer of dust and cobwebs. I bet it was nit cleaned from long time. I immediately covered my nose because I'm allergic to dust.

Turning back to the woman, I tried to maintain my composure.

"I think there must be some mistake. He must have meant a different room."