Ishq | (complete)

37 | intezaar

This chapter took forever because it was one of the most important parts of the story if not the most important. Please, do let me know what you all I think as I'm twiddling my hands like Laila. Also, Anam helped me a lot with this so thank you Ananananam.

❝Sar-E-Toor Ho, Sar-E-Hashar Ho
Humain Intazar Qubool Hai
Wo Kabhi Milein, Wo Kahein Milein
Wo Kabhi Sahi, Wo Kahein Sahi❞

Laila's hand curled around the back of the chair. She stared at their reflection as the pain slithered in her veins, burning her skin. He stood behind her and the reflection as broken as it was perfect. Like a perfect reflection on a broken mirror.

Woh dono hamesha ek dusre ko dhoondh lete the. Toote hue dil ke tukre ek dusre ke dil ke tukron se jur jaate. Pr us baat ko ek arsa guzar chuka tha, tab woh dono toote huwe the. Laila ke dil mein dard ki ek aur lehar uthi. Aaj woh dono phir ek jaga khare the pr aaj tooti hui aur bhikri huwi sirf Laila thi. Waqt aur Ali Sir, dono ne Laila ko piche chor diya.

Her tears darkened with the tinge of mascara and fell on her hands. The hands that were covered with the rich color of henna. Didn't Malka say that the dark color signified the intensity of love, but that man wasn't even brave enough to accept her for who she was? She looked in the mirror again. Each step he took towards her, the more her tears fell. Laila's knuckles turned white around the back of the chair as she stood there, trying to hold everything within her.

Grief burned each of her wounds, embedding it deep within her, making a constellation of it on her soul. She closed her eyes as he stood a breath away. She held on to her sane nerves for a few more seconds, didn't let the gloomy void invade her along with grief, but he was here. He was here to hold her. She prayed for herself, to survive through this devastation, but for a few seconds, she let everything fall through. She forgot what he had done two years ago and let herself breathe in his existence.

His hand caressed hers as a shiver glided through her body. With the most delicate of his touch, he uncurled her hand from the back of the chair. With that, she was thrown right back into her past. He wounded his arms around her, pulling her in. The shivers came in waves through her body, making him tighten his arms around her. His one soft touch ripped her wounds open. Old and new. The wounds she sewed ever so carefully. But he was here and he always found Laila when she needed him.

The first sob left her throat, rustling through her lips. She quivered with each sob as he pulled her firmly against him, his one feeble attempt to hold her pieces together. The agony whirred through her lips, blistering against her throat. He put his forehead against the crown of her head. His own teardrops fell and faded into the red of her duppatta.

No, she wasn't mourning her broken heart. She wasn't even sure she was in love with Asher. No. She liked him, and she would have collected herself if it was just her broken heart, but it was that hollow feeling again. The scars on her soul. Abandonment. Abandonment followed her like a curse yet again, looming over her head like a sword. However, the betrayal was far more brutal. This time they all conspired together be it Malka or Asher or even his family. In the end, again there was nothing left in her hands as it sifted through her fingers like sand.

"Laila," He whispered, her name muffled into the red of her dupatta. She shook her head. Laila encircled her hands around his arm as if holding on to him for those few dear seconds because the moment she put her pieces back, she'd remember he did the same. She'd remember the scars of abandonment Shehryar Ali left on her soul, but for now, someone had to hold her while the rest of her pieces fell apart. "Laila." He pulled her closer, only if he could hide her away from the twisted pain, they all caused her.