Chapter 21.

This chapter is 7.1K words.
Enjoy.

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The night was still young and full of fire when the event came to it's untimely end with the arrival of a light shower of rain. Jewel tones on the sky came out and the gold in — and around the surroundings, the horizon filled with the two shades and the sweet smell of rain. Wet soil, damped as everyone rushed into the living room for the warmth. Chill, bone deep had settled onto the land of the once rich Greek's descendants. A burning lighting on the sky had tamed down, and in the kitchens wild fires burned with a sensational torrent, steaming cup of kehva being brought out with finger foods for the bride and groom's families whose hunger was yet to be satiated.

The bride and groom had secluded into the parlor next to the entrance door. They were, rightly so, given time to talk between themselves, the slight waves of tension had been visibly rolling off of them for the rest of the event, everyone had figured out something was amiss. Filza settled on to the sage green sofa, her elbows fixed on the cushion, palms flexed out as the henna dried out. Arham smiled, his fingers typing away at his phone as he placed an order for her favorite food — it would help tame the blow of the truth. The inevitable could not be put off for long, it was best — they speak of it. On the cusp of their wedding day, the fractional cracks in their relationship — needed to be filled. The crevices would not be allowed to deepen — they would meet a short end. He had not married her to live a life of devious hatred.

The moon the savior of their affection, the retribution of their hatred, had hidden. It hid in plain sight, she had after all almost achieved her goal of caressing the star of her universe, and yet, the ill works of the evening, the gloomy ghosts and the evil witchcraft kept her apart once more. Her loneliness was evident in the rage she gifted to it's witness. Their silence would never be forgiven. The inaction would be paid for, by their blood, sweat and tears — by their unsuspecting offsprings. In her stead the tiny sparkling stars, the proud celebration of her illicit affairs, lit up the sky. In the dark blue sky, tones of emerald — the symbol of her envy, brightened up the wronged bride's skin too.

"Well — get started then. You and my professor — oh God! It's so embarrassing!"

She groaned, hiding her face in the sleeves of her blouse and the organza veil hid her red tears. Filza had the unmissable urge to slap her arms against her face — yet she had no wish to stain her own face with the maroon, though it would explain her emotions. Utterly devastated, her soul was in a mess. Did she deserve this? Absolutely not. If he had knowingly dated a married woman it mean that he would of course — cheat on her. Filza's fists itched to slam the sage green brick walls and do her hands in, to grip the culprits and smash sense into their heads.

A disloyal ingenuity of running a marriage — was the part where she drew the line.

"Okay — Oh urm — first off I'm really sorry that you're embarrassed by my past, and in some way by me."

Those words were like burning coals on his back. His self confidence, the prideful gleam in his eyes, washed out with the words as they left his mouth. The back of his palm wiped away at the tops of his cheek — he bit the inside of his cheek. Horrified, his brain ran over the memories of what once was, over a mistake that had been his but not quite. The reds, his blood, his father's screams and the inaction of the cheated man — he had not deserved any of it. He deserved like every other man his age, to have been carefree in their disposition and not worried to look over their shoulder every few minutes.

An affair had painted him black for eternity; and a mistake would forever leave him a loser.

"Listen Arham let's just skip past these menial formalities. We aren't sitting here to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather. We're gathered to talk about how you're a potential home wrecker!"

Sensing the venom behind her words, Arham gulped silently. It was natural and her right to be pissed — however, it was all placed at the foot of the wrong person. Violent urges speckled through his blood and the muscles of his face instantly danced in the pale lighting. With the yellow of his dress, his skin seemed almost lifeless — an ugly translucency had changed him into a shell of the man he was moments ago.

"Well it's just —that —um there was this—" he stumbled over what he truly wanted to say, so much to inform her of, her ire limiting him into a speechless fool.

"Start from the top Arham," she spoke with a hardened gaze, then softening her tone instantly as Filza saw him struggle, "I'll hear you out Arham. Tell me the truth okay?"

"Only the truth — I'd end my tale before I lie to you zarrgiya."

Even in her rage she could not help but blush — this man lied when he said he was bad with words.

"It —"

"Sir there's a delivery for you." A butler interrupted.

Arham nodded, motioning for the man to bring it in. A few seconds later the cardboard boxes were spread out in front of them. The cheese melted into a thick layer with the chicken, jalapeños and olives spread out generously. Her stomach grumbled, and Filza could not help but push the back of her forearms into her belly to lower the sounds. Arham chuckled, serving her a slice, softly taking of the thin olives, sliding them into his own.

"How do you know?" Filza spoke.

"The ill of having affections for someone is that you know them more than you know yourself."

"You're not buying your way out with your words Arham Alamgeer."

"I'm not even trying to Filza Arham Khan."

He raised the slice to her lips, offering a warm engaging smile. His eyes looked at her innocent face, that had in it a fierce resemblance to the warriors of a long time ago. Her aristocratic nose, slender and snub, the arch of her brows sharp yet softly placed along the high temples. She chewed softly, her cheeks puffing out as she ate, he could not help but poke her soft flesh. She was the ever calm river bed, guiding him — the superfluous wronged rivers.

"I met Abeer at university. We had the same english lecturer," he whispered, staring out of the windows, tears filling up in them as he relived the horror.

"She was everything I was not. So well put together. Abeer always knew what she wanted, her will power was the strongest and her grades — textbook perfect. Abeer was a year above us and my counselor. I was a rebellious kid —"

"Oh I know, everyone used to be so worried about you."

Filza spoke, lightening the tension. He nodded, taking that as his cue to continue.

"A few weeks after getting to know each other I asked her out. After all, when a woman like her gives attention to a man like me — it's pretty easy to fall in love. At first, it started off as little favors. 'Arham do my assignment please, my father is sick.' Or 'Arham could you reserve me a table at my favorite restaurant?' I didn't think much of it until she asked me if I could donate my liver to her ailing brother."

"What? Why? Did you go through?" Filza fired question after question.

"I agreed to have myself checked — one does great things in the disbelieving notion of love. So I did, unfortunately, what I did not know was that the hospital owner knew Abu. He was called and informed — worried he came to England and I told him my story. The match passed and I was ready to go through, abu was ready to support me in this cause but he wanted to meet her." He gulped.

Arham squeezed his eyes shut, running his hands along the back of his neck where he could still feel the violent punch had landed. His mouth heaved, remembering the broken jaw, pain. Abeer had been nothing but pain to him from day one and in the notion that he was in love, he had turned completely masochistic.

"What happened then? Arham? Jaanana if you don't want to continue, you don't have to." Filza whispered, her words breaking the cage of his past.

"No you deserve to know what happened." He smiled at her attempt, kissing her forehead softly, "I agreed and arranged a meeting at her dorms. We walked in — expecting to meet Abeer and instead came face to face with my childhood friend Raheel. He attacked me, his friends surrounding abu. The agonizing screams as they beat me ruthlessly for a crime I had committed in innocence. Thankfully, they didn't beat my father, only me. Abeer watched from her closet, her face in a smirk as I lost consciousness and stared at her one last time."

He took a deep breath, "to her it was all a game to get her husband to value her. There was no brother. It was a well spun tale — and I like a fool walked into the arms of her trap. I haven't seen her since, until today — of course."

"I'm so so sorry Arham I made you relive through those horrors." Filza said, her voice cracking at the ends.

Arham laughed, sinking to his knees his hand placed in her lap, the other rising to her cheek, his thumb brushing across her face as a smile rose from the dead on to his face.

"If it means finding you zarrgiya, I'd live through all that pain a thousand times more."

"You don't have to. I'm yours. Just yours Arham."

"And my heart is yours to keep my darling dearest — do what you deem fit with it just don't ever give it back." He spoke, kissing the apples of her cheek with a genteel softness.

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His heart galloped like a wild horse does through the wild meadows. With every button he closed on the top of his sherwani, his heart gained speed. It drummed against his ribs and he felt it was in the midst of planning an escape from the confines of his heart. The dull off white with gold thread-work had been tailored to match the work of his bride's dress. Gold polki buttons, round and sleek as he closed them, the oriental rose cologne did little to soothe him today, he was nerves and his nerves were his entire personality in that moment. Wrapping his wristwatch — the one with a worn out leather strap, he took a deep breath.

The few moments between his silent respite and the sun set outside his window, fell with a deft slowness. It melted like the snowflakes on his windowsill had just this morning, the bright yellow sunlight — unusual for the city of Mushkpur. He sighed, seating himself on top of his bed, his fingers tapping at the soft keyboard on his phone, back and forth with words that he wanted to speak. A sensational shift took place last night, his role as the stoic caretaker had slipped lightly as he allowed himself to cry with a soft sniffle into his pillow. Coming clear about his past last night had soothed some of the woes he had carried over his back, for these few years. In her comforting presence — he had won, the game of devilish revenge that he was planning on executing.

A knock sounded on his bedroom door, his fingers harshly wiping at the skin under his eyes. Giving permission to enter — his voice gruff as he spoke, Arham turned to face the door. His parents stepped in, dressed in matching shades of gold — the color for his family, her family planned to dress in shades of red and green, the symbols of their former glorious household. Arham's lips turned towards the north, his feet stuck to the ground waiting for them to near him, their faces full of pride and serenity — did he deserve it though? Perhaps not but like anyone in the world he had met, he would be selfish just this once.

Lyana stared at her son, her fingers brushed the curl of hair away from his forehead. Her lips pressed against his cheek, her hands dropped down to his shoulders and rubbed them in affection. He bore a startling resemblance to her husband, his tall figure — dressed in the wedding dress inspired by their own wedding, the brooch of his great grandfather tucked into the pocket above his chest. He looked like grace and royalty — misplaced on to a man of roguish nature — endearing nevertheless.

"Do you have some time Arham?" She questioned.

"Of course mama, what kind of a question is that?" He replied.

"Had to make sure, have a seat, your father and I need to talk to you about a matter of importance." She whispered.

"Is everything alright?"

"It is. We just needed to talk to you about your wedding Arham." Alamgeer replied.

Arham nodded, he had an inkling of what was to come. The two sat on either side of him, his hands taken in to her mother's grip. She stroked them softly, his father staring with eyes full of love at his mother. He felt like he would suffer a stroke in the midst of such a sickly sweet moment. The silence lasted a few more seconds, his mother's soprano voice breaking it, beginning the topic that had him squirming.

"Arham today you're going to bring over someone else's daughter, under the guise of being your wife. Your honor, your heart — in short your everything. Beta Filza has been raised with love and care, she has never been reprimanded, like a princess all her needs have been looked after. You as her husband need to love her in the measure she deserves. Marriage is more than just dressing up and sharing a bedroom, it is a responsibility. A full responsibility." Lyana explained.

"I know mama. I will never hurt her."

"You will try to never hurt her. Arham nothing is set in stone and sometimes it may happen that without any ill intentions you end up hurting her. That doesn't mean the two of you abandon each other. You still need to, love and respect unconditionally. No matter what happens the world shouldn't ever see what is wrong. Keep your fights behind doors, trust no one except yourself. There is no one in this world who knows your marriage better than you." Alamgeer explained.

With every word uttered in full confidence from the mouth of his father, nervousness took it's home inside of him. His legs shook with great strength — without his intentions. The insides of his palm, clammy and sweaty, held the ends of his turban in a tight grip as he heard every word. Following out of his room, he mulled over all that was spoken, he vowed he would — he had to treat her with perfection and care — everything that she deserved.

Outside the world was decked for what had been termed the union of the century. In the late January evening, the mystical fog that thickened over the moors, it's curves and deep trenches hidden as the white flood moved between the trees. The air smelt of petrichor, so cool and free, the soil soft and wet and still from the rains of yesterday. In between the dark ebony sky and the jewel tones of the land, stars were set. Spaced out in equal distances, constellations plenty out top, a deep orange hue still burned in the centre of the sky.

Red, blood red rose petals fell in the feet of the grooms party as they walked into the marquee set up in the midst of Hydrangea fields. Inside the velvet tent, five glass chandeliers hung from the top and at the end of the crystal walkway was a stunning stage. A curving ottoman with maroon upholstery and gold detailing awaited him. He stepped on top in silence, surrounded by his loved ones, a yellow gold iron barns surrounded the fixtures and acted like thin curtains on the sides, vases made of clay — filled with flowers and a string of jewels. The thick flower necklace inside his neck smelt of brightly sweet perfumes — it reminded him in the distance of his past. An ugly black spot that he was, with every single fibre of his being, trying to paint over.

"Bhai you look 'mazing." Lilah kissed his cheek in fondness.

"Thank you, you look beautiful as well Lilah."

"'Course she does, she's my granddaughter after all!" Ahad smiled at the duo.

"Dada abu how are you? When did you guys get here?" Arham questioned.

His grandparents had missed out the henna ceremony, attending a funeral of someone beloved to them they had been forced to sit it out.

"Just a few moments ago. You look fine." He narrowed his eyes, not hiding the grin that took over his face.

"That's the nicest compliment you've given me!" He teased, jerking his head to one side.

"Kia ap dono shuru ho gaye. Aj tou humaray Arham miyan ki shaadi hai, aj koi isko kuch nahi kahe ga!" Gulaab came to his support.
[What you to started again. Today is our beloved Arham's wedding, no one will say a word to him!]

"Yes dado! Thank you for standing up for me always!"

His words were cut short, the lights lowered and pointed to the direction of the entrance. From behind the curling wisteria and ivy flowers, roses showering the steps wholly, the bride walked in. Her velvet maroon lehnga covered in thick gold embroidery and sequins brought the roses to her front, dragging them along, the long anarkali, hiding the rest of the skirts, save for the smallest of hems. Lanterns — to represent a bright beginning, leaves to represent growth and flowers in the shapes of constellations as a praise to her dreams covered the rest of her dress. Deep green and red sequins added in the right amount of detail.

Filza's face largely bare of makeup, and heavy jewelry allowed him to see her face in it's perfection. In all it's glory and righteousness, under the spotlight he could make out the smile lines and curves of her soft cheeks, the deep pink — on the side of cherry lipstick twitched the centre of his chest. Joy — ceaseless joy filled the capacity of his humble form, his hand reached out to grab hers, sneakily his thumb rubbed the back of it sending sparks down his and her frame — alike.

Gleaming smiles at the camera and the surplus prayers flowing in from the directions all around kept them from making conversation. Only stolen moments under the heavy lighting that was enough to blind the eyes kept them from going completely insane. Their hands rested on top of his lap — locked in a tight knot, they seldom let go as if afraid that any second one or the other would be lost. There was something about being seated in front of a crowd, following the etiquette of society and it's terms. Knowing that there was a fire of endless passion that you could satiate but the piousness of attraction and love — kept one from breaking loose.

"How are you?" He murmured, whispering, his mouth barely moving as he watched the eyes of the strictly rich wives of his colleagues stare at them.

"Arham! You're seriously going to ask me this question right now?" She giggled.

"I'll ask you whatever I want, whenever I want zarrgiya. Nothing can stop me, especially now." He winked.

Filza blushed, the contours of her face turned a deep claret red. Her fingers played with the clasp of her clutch, the strictly straight posture slumped just the slightest as she motioned for him to bend lower. Their gazes slid across each other's lips, parting slightly in anticipation. The urge to press her lips against his soft looking ones — kept her awake for nights. His warmth wrapping around the back of her hand did little to ease her case, the sharp breaths and gazes taken were just theirs to know and keep. All night Filza had shivered under her sheets, imaging the way his thumb had wiped the ketchup stains on her lower lip, the way his smoldering gaze had welded her heart into a mush.

Their gazes stilled in the direction of the crowd — seldom. Arham's strong facial features bore a resemblance to her childhood hero, the same dark brooding stare and looks so dangerously attractive that they could pass as a villain in a crime story. The width of his chest was emphasized with the fabric of his dress, her fingers turned red as she pressed them against the inside of his wrist. His heart beat was a rhythmic tune — she was ready to dance to the tunes of it for an eternity to come — and he knew this with the way his lips danced under the lights.

"So aren't you going to compliment my look?" Filza spoke after a while.

"Oh I am, just not in front of everyone."

"Why?"

"My observations tell me that they won't like to see me kiss you senseless my darling dearest."

"You could until then use your words you know? The way everyone else does things."

Filza shrugged, her shoulders brushed past the front buttons of his attire, the threads of the beaded work sliding against the smooth plane buttons, getting stuck to them for the smallest amount of times. Her hands nervously tried to squeeze their way out of his grip, the sweatiness of them made her weary — the space between her brows scrunched up in thought as yet again another woman walked over to them, this time around to talk of how proud she was for the two of them to have fought for their love. Behind the expensive lipstick coated smiles, and the drowsy scent of their expensive perfume — sourced from manners unethical, Filza knew was a open heart that searched for gossip. The circle was buzzing, Mushkpur had a relatively smallest population and everyone knew everything — so it was not uncommon for her to know the kind of gossip that had been flowing free at the dinner parties within the city.

"Thank you so much for coming!" Filza greeted with a polite smile for the nth time, making up for the lack of conversation on her husband's part.

"Arham? You can't just ignore everyone at your own wedding!" She pinched his palms.

"I can and I'd love to do it. This is why I was vying for a smaller wedding — now there's a bunch of people we don't even know just hanging around for absolutely no reason."

The longer he sat on the stage with the lights turned into his way, the more it irked him. If it were up to him, he would have taken Filza away by now, there was no use of entertaining such a large party of people — he thought with bitterness. The press, the media, the tycoons — all alike had taken to his wedding and turned into a public debacle, unfortunately. His mind was over worked, not only was he having to deal with an entourage of guests that were not his, he also had to worry for their security. To keep his feelings masked was a greater task in fact, the distaste and displeasure filled his mouth with a bitter emptiness, his heart hollowed out even on the most joyous day of his life. With the pounding headache that was building up, he could only pray that the event end before he started a riot.

"Arham, Filza do you guys need anything?" Ayna stepped on to the stage for the umpteenth time, making sure that the two were comfortable.

"Chachi could you please send mor?"

Her wish was of course everyone's desire and soon after her mother stood in front of her, worried like a mother hen, she searched every inch of her daughter's serene face for any signs of displeasure. Laila herself had never gotten to enjoy a proper wedding with pomp, she wanted to ensure that her daughter could celebrate hers in the measure that she deserved.

"I'm fine mor. How long will this event go on? I'm tired."

Filza faked a yawn for the sake of the internally brooding man beside her.

"Just half an hour, I'll ask your friends to start with the rasams, after that we'll wrap it all up, okay?" Laila spoke softly, turning to her son-in-law, "Arham did you have dinner properly? I'm sorry I couldn't come check on the two of you." She apologized.

"Aisay nahi kahein. Kha liya tha mein nai kahna — aur sab kuch bohat lazeez tha. Biryani sai le kar kheer tak, it was all perfectly executed." He complimented.
[Don't say it like that. I ate enough — all of it was scrumptious. From the biryani to the kheer, it was all perfectly executed.]

"I'm glad you liked it, the kheer is Filza's recipe actually!" Laila beamed.

"No wonder it was the most outstanding one I've had in my life!" Arham too grinned in the direction of his wife, his face lighting up.

"Tayi ammi ab hum doodh pilai shuru kar lein?" Ameena walked on to the stage.
[Aunt can we start the doodh pilai* now?]

Behind her followed the rest of their extended family and Filza's friends. The gold tray with a bejeweled cup was forwarded in their direction, the groomsmen standing behind the ottoman to support the groom.

"Dekhein Arham bhai seedhi seedhi baat hai panch lakh sai tou kam sochna bhi nahi!" Ameena hollered.
[Look Arham brother it's a very simple thing don't even think of paying lower than five hundred thousand rupees!]

"Just for the sake of our groom we say five thousand!" Aliyaar counter offered.

"Five hundred thousand."

"Yeh lein panch hazaar kyun keh aaj khushi ka din hai!"
[Here you go have five thousand because it is a day of happiness!]

"Yeh pachis hazar kyun keh humaray larkay ko kaafi jaldi hai!"
[Here have twenty five thousand because our groom is very impatient!]

"And twenty thousand more to let us go! Now come on come on give us the milk!" Aryan cheered.

Eventually the bride party received half of what they had originally desired. The impending separation from her parents took place as the pale moon took to the dark skies. She was blushing tonight, Filza observed in between her soft sniffles. There was no need to be teary eyed, her parents would be around her for a long time coming. She kissed her aunts and uncles on their cheeks, hugging the life out of her father and mother, she followed her husband into his annex — their home now.

Where there is love there is light;
Where their is heart there is might,
The two were now each other's — through union;
The tags worn upon their chest with pride like a medallion.

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✵ mature content ✵

In a darkness that could rival the deepest pits of the Mariana, with a light seldom flowing through the thin chiffon curtains hanging over the open windows, allowing the softest of breezes to flow through — the decor of bedroom gleamed. The deep oakwood polished bed, it's frame an intense brown almost mixing into a maroon. Around the room, on top of the brick fireplace — original to the home, silver candle-bra's with red candles, symbolizing love and passion burned. Their orange light cast a shadow over the ornate dresser and closet. The room smelt of lavenders and roses, thrown around generously on top of the cotton bedsheets, that sagged under the weight of her dress.

Her head, covered with the sheer veil, the lights all turned off took her back to all the dreams she had dreamt of. Of the ones that left her hot and bothered, his arms around her frame stroking the warmth of her soft curves. His lips stuck to her skin as if they would never come apart from the senseless devotion they had deemed for themselves as necessary. Underneath her skirts her legs werte clamped shut, pushed to her chest as she waited for her husband to enter the bedroom. In heavy anticipation — sweaty expectations weighed on her chest like a bittersweet burden.

The sounds of giggles and laughter outside the bedroom — with a gruff familiar voice replying in haste brought the woman out of her steamy daydreams. She could still feel the heavy air against her parted lips, aching to meet the ones of her soulmate's to mould with him, to feel the sensation of something so rich, powerful and intense — an opposite of all the soft freshness they had encountered yet. Her hands fisted the dress, the fine work digging into her skin but she could care less — the pressure on her palms kept her from losing herself to a smoky dream, a grey wind of seduction and lust that had to wait, for the sake of her own well being.

The bedroom door opened in silence and one would not have known had it not been for the sudden stream of light falling into the room. He shut the door with a roughness, indicating his arrival as he slid the locks in place. From the window adjacent to the bed, starlight shone in on the floor, reflecting over his bed and acting like a natural spot light for the delicate frame that sat on top of his bed. He neared with soft steps, his fingers undoing the turban and his wristwatch, the bed creaking with his weight as he took place by her.

Even in the dim space of his bedroom, he could stare at her face under the veil. His sharp gaze could make out the bright green eyes that had kept him up many a nights. The very eyes he had imagined stare at him with bouts of passion. Thoughts that had been unforgivable and unkind, were no longer so and something inside him stirred as his brain conjured up images of them, entangled in sweaty passion, taking and giving until they were nothing but a pile of bones and a bit more. His hands wrapped over the end of the veil, hooking it and throwing it over her head. The silent gasp and sharp inhalation of breath were like sweet sounds to him, as he grinned at her.

Arham's hand rested along her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin come to life at his tenderest of touches. The back of his fingers pressed into her skin, her head turning to kiss the edge of them. He smiled gently at that, leaning forward, pressing his lips against her forehead — even in the midst of need fogging his senses, nothing could stop him from showering her in his purest of emotions. Not even the raw need to be one with her. His warm breath brushed against the top of her eyes, all the indication needed to know that this moment was in fact real and not a figment of his deepest desires.

Filza shivered under his touch, her legs straightening out just the smallest of inches, her palms rested against his toned chest. Her fingers ran up and down the material, fiddling with the brooch on his sherwani. Despite their figures being in a near crushing position, she leaned in, raising her head until her lips brushed past his own. They were barely there, the hazel of his eyes kept her from dying a death of despair — her lips in a wanton frenzy pressed against his ever so softly, before retreating. The flush of her cheeks was rosy like the rest of herself, and the force from Arham's hand on the back of her neck pushed her face against his and their lips once more in a searing contact.

He kissed her with need dripping down every inch of him. His hands stroked her long neck, setting alight sparks bringing her lithe figure against his own, squeezing so tight that not a hair could pass between them. They breathed in the kiss, taking in a sharp breath as his tongue pushed her lips apart — tasting each inch of her mouth that tasted of honey. His tongue felt along each ridge of her teeth, drinking in all that she had to give, sucking her lips — he had waited for days for this moment, and when it arrived, he could not let go.

Filza pushed her hands through his hair, tugging at the rough curls as the kiss gained intensity. Her lunges burned with the lack of oxygen, her heart raced like a wild fire, beating against his calm heart. He pulled apart, resting his forehead on hers, pecking her lips once, twice and then thrice. She sighed softly, her body felt like mush, the bones soft like jelly and the flesh all dissolved into tiny sparks. His kiss had invoked in her a cold fire of desire unlike any she had known before, her lower belly throbbed, her breasts heaved and ached under his stormy gaze.

"Does that explain how I think you look like?"

Arham spoke, his lips lifting to reveal the perfectly aligned set of white teeth. His hand worked on removing the jewelry from her neck and hair, their soft breaths the only sound save for the distant screaming of their blood.

"It — it does, although I'd love to her your words too." She stared at him.

Her eyes wide like an innocent dove's, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she awaited his reply. Still in a daze from the magical first kiss she had just had, Filza sought for some common ground, for something that would make her feel normal again. For the lit up way she felt inside her skin — was possibly not normal. To feel so elated and full of life ; was it a dream?

"You resemble the woman in my dreams. So irresistible and sparkling that you blind my vision the longer I stare at you." He said.

Filza nodded, too overwhelmed to even move an inch, his hands sliding down her shoulders, delicately removing the pins from her hair until the silken locks were tumbling down her back. An instant aroma of lavender filled his nostrils, calming down both their nerves. Hers as she anticipated what was to come ; and his in the wonder of what to do and what not to.

Filza sensed his hesitation, the lack of movement as his palms rested over her back, holding the delicate zip was an indication of just that. Staring out of the thinly veiled windows, she felt confidence rise inside of her, the fogginess from their heavy emotions still clouding all rationality as she dragged his hand down, the dress falling looser by the second.

Arham shut his eyes, in front of him all that he had desired and dreamt of. His thumb grazed a part of her skin, he felt electrified at the contact. His groin stirred with need. Blood rushed to his mind and his senses heightened. He would though, continue to fight his wants until he was sure of her needs.

"Are you sure Filza? We don't have to do anything."

"I've waited and desired you just as long — if not a bit more," she whispered, staring into his eyes, without any signs of shying away, "have mercy on me and don't keep me away for any longer!"

"I won't but—"

She shushed him, her hands resting on his lips, the scarlet nail tips dug into his chin, her lips pressing open mouth kisses along the side of his neck. Filza felt him shift as she pressed all her weight over him, his figure falling on to the mattress with hers towering over him. Her fingers gently unbuttoned the jacket, sliding it off of his arms, the undershirt coming off next. She traced his bare skin with her nails, the heat from it went straight to her core. A part of it might regret it all in the morning but Filza was more interested in living in the moment. Her tongue licked down his throat, her teeth scraping the skin at the junction between his neck and shoulder.

"Tell me do you still want us to stop jaanana?" She breathed out, her chest rising at a harsh pace and tiny flutters filling into her lower abdomen.

"You test my patience. You make it impossible to hold back zarrgiya."

"Arham you have every right to touch me, why do you wish to defy what you want?"

"I may be a corrupt man but I wouldn't touch a hair on your head without consent Filza."

"Touch me. Ravage me. Douse the fire inside of me Arham."

"Your wish is my sole reason to live my darling." He smirked.

Within seconds their positions had been changed. Him on top of her, her back pressed into the warm sheets and his hands on either side of her face. He dragged his fingers down at a cruel pace, his torso keeping her legs apart. The dress fell down her shoulders, his head finding itself in the crook of her neck. His lips murmured secrets against her sweaty skin, lust weighed down on the room's fresh atmosphere as he traced his path with the tip of his nose, pulling the fabric further lower until her breasts were exposed to the hot air. Arham closed his eyes before kissing her lips softly, the pads of his fingers exploring the hidden secrets of her figure.

Need seized them both like a wild bull lunges at something red. They were far gone in the world of selfish desires. With anger and agony they tore at each others clothes and lips until nothing but shy shreds remained of them. The stars and the moon rejoiced, the mission was after all complete. At least one of them had found the lover that it deserved. Outside, a thin drizzle was beginning to fall over the horizon. The fresh smell of rain dissolved the lusty air the smallest but still it failed to creep past the first few meters. The burning candles had blown out due to the wind but it's owners could care less.

Love gave you sight that did not require any light to see.

Arham's eyes drank in every inch of her placid face. The bruised lips, sweaty skin and cherry red flush on her face made her look like an elfin deity. His eyes filled up with her form, tracing every inch over and again a thousand times, the back of his hand touched her exposed figure. It was like a hallucination — barely there but it's effect weighed down on her whole. He moved down, still in awe of the woman in front him. From her plump lips to the heaving pierced breasts. Every part left him in awe. He smirked as his fingers traced the outline of the metal piercing, a soft drawling moan escaping her lips at the touch.

"When did you get these pierced?" He questioned, softly, tugging on them as he spoke.

Filza cried in pleasure, her legs tightening around his frame, her core digging into his thigh seeking the friction it so desired.

"Answer me Filza. When did you get these?"

He spoke a bit harsher this time, his actions reflecting his callous movements. Filza moaned, losing herself in between the purple of pleasure and the black of pain.

"A - a few moths ago." She whimpered.

"Did you dream of this? Of me touching and teasing you little girl?"

Arham spoke against her ears, his hands traveling down south, brushing against the exposed wetness. Filza moaned in relief, nodding her head rapidly, her eyes closed tight as he teased her breasts with his mouth and her nether regions with his finger.

"Words Filza, words!"

"I did!" She moaned into his arm, a thick digit of his pumping in and out of her wet folds without warning.

"Good girl. I can assure you, I've had my fair share of dreams about you at my mercy. Crying. Begging for more like a good little girl."

He kissed her jaw one last time, tracing his lips south he sucked on the skin above her hip, placing open mouthed kisses against the inside of her thighs. His fingers all the while teased her folds, rubbing soft circles over her clit, pumping in and out. He licked his fingers as he felt her close in on her orgasam, placing his dick against her swollen folds, he rubbed it up and down her slit, moaning at the taste of her.

"You sure you want this Filza?"

"I've never been more sure about anything else!" She whispered, raising to meet his lips in a kiss.

He nodded, removing a condom from the drawers he tore the packet with his teeth, sliding it on in silence. Filza's heated gaze rested on him, she felt shy all of a sudden, feeling his dick slide against her entrance, prying her folds open until they were stretched too far. She groaned in pain, stilling Arham who whispered words of comfort into her ears, stroking her waist in order to calm her down. After a few minutes of remaining still he pushed further on her insistence, his body pressing down on hers.

"You're so perfect Filza. So, so perfect." He kissed the skin below he right eye.

She moaned in response, her legs wrapping around his waist, her heels digging into his back. Arham took that as his sign and began to move back and forth, his hips slid against hers in a heated frenzy. Filza groaned, raising her limp hips to meet his motions, her nails holding on to his back like an anchor. Her lips sucked the skin of his throat. Their hearts beat at the same pace, absorbing each other's motions and figures. Their auras intermingled, the sweat pores seeped with each other's DNA the longer they remained joint in the passionate entangle.

"I love you with every part of me Filza." Arham breathed out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt himself fall over the edge.

"I don't think I could survive without you any longer Arham." She kissed his lips, her breath evening out by the end of her sentence.

✵ mature content over ✵

Proceeds to throw holy water at us all.
Turns on the ac.
Ahem.
Ahem.
Whewwwwww

It suddenly got hot in here, did it not?
Cause same babies.

Naughty vibes haina?
Gaaah!

Thoughts & Comments Here