| Hawaaon Ke Paighaam | Messages Of The Wind

| The Flower of Paradise |

And yet, this was Murtasim. Sometimes when that fact reappeared in her conscious, it had her stopping short at how sometimes, things you never expect end up becoming your normal and people you distance yourself from end up becoming your person. That one person who you decide to jump with, no parachute, no strings attached and no expectations. You just jump because the view to the bottom would be spectacular and so worth the fear and danger. And that's enough for you.

Just like this had now become enough for her. He had become enough.

He belonged to a place which made her feel like she would never have enough of anything she wanted; fulfilment, independence, happiness, freedom, contentment. And yet even knowing he represented the chains which threatened to bind her, he had become the person who had ripped her binding anchor from the hard, solid ground and jumped into a free-fall with her. And though still far from the ground, they'd temporarily landed headfirst into this heady affair which currently had their scantily clothed bodies tangled up with each other on a yacht in the middle of world.

And it didn't feel peculiar despite its peculiar beginnings and questionable conclusion. There was nothing peculiar about the way he had become what her body wanted. Nothing peculiar about how just the sight of him now quickened her heart and had her body strum with awareness. The only peculiar aspect of it was the fact that your body could indeed be irrevocably, insanely and intensely someone else's and your mind and soul still preserved and kept just for you. It was like your body didn't care about anything else as long as that person was yours to have and yours to indulge in. So powerful was the call and pull of physical hunger that mind and soul be damned if they could just have one more night, one more day, even one more moment to let themselves drown in it.

Him just existing, just appearing in front of her or in her mind was that call and pull; effortless and repetitive without fail. How she had let it happen and how he'd done it was also peculiar, but it was a peculiarity which was so easily swept away in the tide of aching desire.

"Murtasim Khan." she whispered slowly and almost experimentally into the tiny space between their faces, her tongue tasting and then savouring the name and her tone almost wondrous.

Murtasim Khan

After all this time, all these years and also those summers later, she had chosen Murtasim Khan as the man she wanted experience passion with. The one man she would've ruled out even if mankind had been ending. Not because she had been averse to him, though that would've been a consideration, but because she simply never would've believed he was capable of it. Passion was after all rare. But they had it; him for her and her for him. Maybe she hadn't chosen him. Maybe her body had chosen him for her, because it had known and needed him even when she consciously hadn't.

"Murtasim."

It was even lower than a whisper, a little breathy sound as the confused musings gave way to the word reaching her mouth experimentally; like she was weighing it and trying deciphering its meaning to her.

He was still, his face almost serene and Meerab knew that at least in all the nights he had spent with her since dinner with the Maktabis, he hadn't slept like this at all. And so seizing the unique opportunity, she absorbed the Murtasim which no one ever saw; another side of him which he only allowed her to see. In that way, they had become the two closest people to one another. Even Murtasim Khan had to let his guard down when sleep beckoned and he couldn't be the strong, unyielding protector and shield for a few hours. Though even whilst he slept, she felt an inexplicable sense of safety that he was there and that was enough for her to not worry about anything.

As a man who went through life so effortlessly and to whom authority and dominance came so easily, she doubted he had ever let anyone see him weaken. She doubted he had ever weakened, if she was honest with herself.