Tales of Love

ShehryarxLayla

//Who were you before he broke you?//

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Rain has always been a solace for her. Watching intrigued, the pitter patter of the droplets; the musky scent of after rain was her most favourite scent in this world. She used to stare awestruck at the rain. The water cascading down, and the scent of petrichor.

Now, she hated it. Hate would be menial to describe her emotions when it came to rain. She utterly despised it. Standing near the glass window, she was gazing at the gushing torrent outside. The lightening struck against the clouds, the thudding boom echoed in the penthouse.

She was utterly still like a statue, staring outside with numbness surrounding her, before the sharp, heavy voice resounded, "where the fuck are you, Layla?" She stiffened at his hard, gruff tone. She couldn't help but shiver at the intensity of his anger in that voice of his.

He was furious, and she knew why.

It was that damn alcohol that he has been consuming the whole night. Layla despised his drinking habit, it was when he was utterly inebriated that he was the most unhinged. And that scared her to her core. Because when he was drunk, he was the most violent and she was at the receiving end of his violence. Tonight wouldn't be any different, she thought with her heart in her throat.

Her heart was thumping erratically, threatening to beat out of her ribcage. She felt him before she saw him. The living room was shrouded in darkness, the only source of light was the lamp flickering. At times when she was alone, she preferred this darkness but now, at this moment, she cursed her naivety.

His presence was like an ominous omen, his entire frame divulged in darkness. Layla turned around from her place slowly, her entire silhouette shaking in fear. He moved forward in the dark, his steps uneven and his voice slurring, a clear indication of his drunken state.

"You like to embarrass me at every chance you get, don't you; Layla?"

Layla froze. Every nerve fibre tingling in fear, she gaped at him. With every step that he took forward, she took backwards. Sweat gathered at her hairline and her breathing could be heard in the chilly, dark night. "W-what do you mean?" She stuttered.

He moved before she could even blink. She felt the unmistakable twinge on her cheek, her face throbbing with the painful sensation. He slapped her again. Layla stared at him with tears begging to be shed but she didn't. She composed herself.

She was not going to show him that she was utterly vulnerable, because Yousuf Jalal Waleed loved it when she begged him. He preyed on her weaknesses, her vulnerability and she'd be damned before she let him see how much he affected her.

With a dead grip, he grasped her chin in his calloused hand and brought his face closer to her. Layla could smell the alcohol on him and she gagged mentally. "Bola tha na tumhy kai agar kisi dosray mard ko ankh utha kai bhi dekha tou tumhari jaan leloun ga. Magar tum jesi aurtain hamesha apni aukaat dikha hi deti hain." He spat.