The sun dawned as Meerab waited anxiously for Murtasim. She knew that removing the bullet from the gun wasn't the rational decision, but she felt bound by her emotions. Murtasim's anger was justified, and Meerab's heart sank with every passing moment.
The door creaked open, ajar, and Meerab rushed towards him, her feet pounding the floor. Murtasim's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, as he stood in the doorway, radiating tension.
'Meerab, what were you thinking?' Murtasim's voice was low, controlled, but laced with frustration.
Meerab's breath caught in her throat as she approached him. 'I couldn't let you...' she began, her voice trembling.
Murtasim's gaze pierced hers, searching for answers. 'You couldn't let me what? Protect myself?'
Meerab's hands reached out, hesitant, as if seeking forgiveness.
Murtasim's expression softened slightly as Meerab explained, 'I didn't want you to make a rash decision, that's why I removed the bullet.'
Murtasim's voice remained firm, but a hint of warmth crept in. 'Meerab, I'm a feudal lord. I know what to do, when to do it. You shouldn't have interfered.'
He left the room and walked to the hall, his eyes fixed on the phone, awaiting the call that would confirm Bakhtu's safety.
Meerab, eager to make amends, followed him. As she approached, Murtasim spoke without turning, his voice low and husky.
'Meerab yaar, abhi jaao'.
Meerab's hands hesitated, wanting to touch his shoulder, to comfort him. But she respected his boundaries, her voice barely above a whisper.
'Murtasim, maine ek galti ki hai, maaf kar do'.
Murtasim's gaze remained fixed on the phone, his expression unyielding. But Meerab saw the faintest glimmer of pain in his eyes.
"Murtasim, try to understand, I didn't have any wrong intentions."
Meerab's words hung in the air as Murtasim's gaze pierced hers. "Meerab, I get it, jaao ab".
The tension between them was palpable, thickening the atmosphere. Murtasim's eyes involuntarily roamed over Meerab's dark blue suit, her body . . . fucking centerfold-worthy. Her hair was a weakness of his: black, silky, and long enough to wrap it around his fist twice.
It was the soft, innocent expression of hers, though, that seemed to burn through his skin and straight to his dick. It was so damn sweet, that he wanted to taste her so bad.
"Murtasim.. suno to...."
And this was it. He gave up. He stood and walked towards her, his steps slow and deliberate.
Meerab sensed his approach and turned, her eyes locking onto his. She took five steps back, her retreat mirroring his advance.
Murtasim's gaze held hers, his eyes burning with unspoken emotions. 'Don't go, Meerab,' he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Meerab's hands reached out, as if to stop herself from retreating further. Her eyes pleaded for understanding, for patience. 'Murtasim, I—'
But he was so close to her now.
Murtasim's hand reached out, his fingers wrapping gently around Meerab's waist. She was so slender, so fragile, it felt like she could dissolve into his touch at any moment.
Meerab's eyes fluttered closed as his warmth seeped into her skin. Her hands instinctively grasped his forearm, holding on as if anchoring herself to reality.
Murtasim's thumb traced a subtle pattern on her waist, sending shivers down her spine. 'You're so delicate,' he whispered, his breath dancing across her ear.
Meerab's lips parted, her voice barely audible. 'I'm not fragile, Murtasim.'
His gaze swept over her face, searching for assurance. 'You feel like glass to me,' he confessed, his voice laced with vulnerability.
"Choro mujhe, Murtasim!" Meerab tried to say, struggling to free herself.
Murtasim's grip tightened, his voice low and possessive. "Kyon, meri ho. Aur apni cheezon ko apne paas rakhta hoon main."
Murtasim could feel her hot breath on his skin.
Meerab's face was inches from his, her rapid breathing a testament to her growing distress. Murtasim's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze burning with a mix of desire and concern.
"Meerab, relax," he whispered, his voice softening.
But Meerab's tension only increased, her body rigid against his. "Let me go, Murtasim," she pleaded.
Murtasim's grip tightened, his fingers splayed across her back. "Not until you calm down," he murmured.
Calming down was difficult with Murtasim mere inches away, but Meerab steeled herself, desperate to escape his intoxicating proximity.
"Meerab, I know your intentions," Murtasim whispered, "but aage se mere kaam ke beech mat aana"
Meerab's voice trembled. "Murtasim, I just wanted you to be safe."
"Then stay with me," Murtasim whispered, his lips grazing her ear.
"Nhi," Meerab said, her voice firm, and tried running away from him.
Murtasim let her go, knowing that chasing her would only push her further away. He watched as she disappeared into the hallway, her dark hair swirling behind her.
"But for how long can you run, Meerab?" he whispered to himself, a determined glint in his eye.
