"Does he usually smile like that?" Rumi asked Meerab, narrowing her eyes on the screen as Meerab repeatedly pressed the command and plus keys on the keyboard to zoom into the image on the screen.

Three pairs of eyes were trained on a sole laptop.

If someone were to walk into Meerab's bedroom, they would be curious as to what had engrossed Meerab Khan and her two best friends so. Meerab was laying on her stomach and leaning on her elbows with her MacBook in front of her. Rumi Ahmed, the adopted daughter of Meerab's Waqas chacha and Anila chachi, and Ajiya, their best friend from college, lay on either side of her in similar positions.

Rumi and Ajiya's eyes moved from the image on the screen to Meerab's face which was marred with a frown.

Rumi cringed as she watched Meerab practically abuse the keyboard, she seemed to be taking out all her anger on the poor keys.

It had been going on for some time now and at one point, Meerab had zoomed in enough to see every pixel. Ajiya was just as engrossed, albeit a lot more animated than the other two, she had made multiple plans to murder everyone in the picture and expressed them verbally and loudly for all to hear.

"She's really pretty – isn't she?" Ajiya said as she zoomed into the face of one of the females in the picture. "And her arm is wrapped around him."

"She's a cousin and - " Meerab started to say but was interrupted by Ajiya before she could even finish the sentence.

"HA! All men are like this-"

"I don't think my Murtasim-" Meerab started to say but stopped short when Ajiya started speaking again.

"He doesn't look like your Murtasim from any angle in this picture." Ajiya exclaimed while rolling her eyes and flopping her head down onto the pillow with an angry hmph.

Meerab zoomed out of the picture and took it all in again – like she had been for the previous hour. Her eyes strayed to the man standing in the middle of the picture and she let out a sigh.

Murtasim looked so handsome, and so different. She hadn't seen him in well over two years, she practically had to beg Maryam to ask him to get Facebook and then had to beg her to get him to upload a picture. She had thought he would enjoy Facebook, he had always loved taking pictures. But he uploaded only one picture of himself in two years, a headshot.

A picture that she had opened thousands of times.

Which is why Meerab had been so excited when she saw that Murtasim was tagged in some pictures by their cousins from a wedding they recently attended, one she hadn't been able to attend due to her classes. Meerab had gone through most of the pictures with a happy smile on her face, with both Rumi and Ajiya giggling about how handsome all of her cousins were.

Meerab only had eyes for Murtasim though, who looked so utterly handsome that it took her breath away, she admired the full beard that blended perfectly into his hair, and how broad his shoulders looked.

All until she got to the picture that she was looking at right then.

Murtasim stood beside Maryam (his sister, and her favourite cousin), Haya (the bane of her existence, and least favourite cousin), and Zara (a cousin from Maa Begum's side of the family that they weren't too close to). The picture was innocent for all intents and purposes, she had only clicked on the picture to admire how good Murtasim looked in the white suit, she didn't even care about how close Haya stood to him. Meerab knew she was clingy and that Murtasim found her annoying.

Everything was fine until she read the caption, Zara – often dubbed as the prettiest woman in their family - had chosen. It was just a white heart and a green heart.

Murtasim was the only one that wore white in the picture, and Zara wore green.

Meerab's eyes had widened and her face had dropped. The other two obviously picked up on the drastic mood change – she had gone from looking lovestruck to looking forlorn – and surrounded her. The three of them had been analyzing the picture for the past hour.

Ajiya had zoomed into Zara's arms to find that they were wrapped around Murtasim, she was leaning into him with a smile on her face, looking at him from the side of her eye. Murtasim was not smiling, but he didn't look like he was uncomfortable either.

Ajiya then obsessed over an article that showed them how to read body language in a picture, and had come to the conclusion that there was something going on between Zara and Murtasim considering he was leaning towards her and his feet were pointing in her direction.

"I'll just ask him when I go back." Meerab murmured as she looked at his smiling face, suddenly not as excited to stare at it anymore.

"It's probably nothing! You two have been betrothed to each other since childhood, everyone in our family knows you'll get married. Heck, half of the graduating LLB class of this year knows you will marry the man they only saw once." Rumi exclaimed, clearly trying to placate her best friend.

Their families, although not related by blood, were so close that Rumi felt like she knew her Murtasim bhai well enough to know that he wouldn't lead Meerab on like Ajiya was suggesting he was.

Meerab sighed, mulling over Rumi's words. She had grown up knowing she would one day be Murtasim's wife, a well-known fact in the family. Not that it made any sense when she first heard it. Meerab hadn't thought much of it as she grew up, happy to play house with Murtasim who was a friend who bickered with her incessantly but was the first to comfort her when she was feeling down.

He had even given her his favourite stuffed animal when she learnt that her father hated her, one she still had, hidden away in a corner of her closet.

Of course, she should have known her father didn't want her because she had grown up with two fathers. She had referred to Murtasim's father as baba – he was the one who stayed with her and was loving, and her other father was the one who visited occasionally and refused to look at her. She hadn't understood what it meant until she was four. Meerab now knew that she didn't understand it at the age of four either, but she had been heartbroken enough to need comfort, and Murtasim had been that source of comfort even at his young age.

He had become her confidant then, he was a mere two and a half-years older than her, but had become someone she always looked up to for comfort and protection. Despite the numerous older cousins she had on her mother's side of the family, Murtasim had always been the closest to her.

He was the one who fought with children that bothered her...not that she needed help, she got in enough trouble by herself.

He was the one who would sneak them to the closest candy shop to cheer her up on bad days on their way to and from elementary school, Maryam usually too young and slow to join them.

Murtasim was the one that insisted she play cricket with the boys too when her cousins Armaan, Hamza, and Arslan visited with her two mamus [mother's brothers] and tried to exclude her.

He was the one that she begged when she craved golgappe, Maa Begum insisting that she couldn't stand and eat them at street stalls when she was in her early teens. He always caved despite resisting at first. For years on end.

He was the one who stood over her shielding her from the sun on tepid days while they pooled their pocket money together for the ice-cream they enjoyed on their way home from high school.

As they got older, things changed.

Murtasim suddenly shot up in height, and suddenly they weren't allowed to be alone anymore. They no longer went everywhere together.

He went away for university during her second year of high school, and she only saw him on the rare school breaks he had, most of which he spent obsessively studying for one exam or another.

At 17, she had registered what being his wife meant. Anila chachi had received a rishta for her, and it was swiftly turned down with the mention of her being betrothed to Murtasim. She had tried to look at him differently then, as a potential future husband rather than a friend. But she wondered if that switch ever happened for Murtasim.

"He never even calls." Meerab said closing the laptop with a thud and burying her face into the bed. In the five years she had about ten conversations with him that weren't through family members. Most of them were either through Maryam or Arslan, his sister and closest friend.

"Yes, but Meerab, you know him. You've always said, and I can see that, he's different with you, that he doesn't treat you like he treats his sister or any of his other cousins." Rumi implored. "He only ever cries in front of you."

Rumi wasn't wrong. Murtasim had always treated her differently as they grew up, especially starting in her last year of high school, when Murtasim's father, and her uncle, passed away. Her own father returned from wherever he went to hide away from her to help his nephew take over the responsibilities held by the head of the Khan Family.

Murtasim had been much too young for the burden that was put on his shoulder, of overseeing a whole empire, but he had put on a brave face and accepted it. He had been stoic throughout the funeral, shedding only a few tears, remaining strong for those around him.

But her eyes had been glued to him, because she had known that despite the distance that existed between them then, Murtasim, who had always been quiet opened up around her like he did with no one else. He always had. But with all the people around, she couldn't find an opportunity to speak to Murtasim alone, even if she knew he needed her.

Meerab had tried to get Armaan bhai to talk to him, for Armaan too had lost his father, Meerab's oldest mamu, only two years prior. The weight of the whole Shah family had fallen squarely onto his shoulders, albeit he was older and had Hamza and Arslan to share it with. But Armaan bhai had just shaken his head at her when she asked him if Murtasim had talked to him.

She had then sent in Hamza bhai, for Hamza was the same age as Murtasim and they were both introverted souls that connected at a level. Hamza too had been unsuccessful at getting Murtasim to talk.

In her desperation, she had even sent in Arslan, a loud get out had followed shortly after Arslan went in, telling Meerab that he had likely tried to be funny and it hadn't sit right with Murtasim.

When all else failed, she had waited by the door of her room at night, waiting for the house to quiet down so she could go find Murtasim.

Those days were the first and last days that Meerab had been in a room alone with him since they had grown up, in the study of the Khan Mansion.

He hadn't told her to leave when she came in, closing the door behind her, taking in his haggard form. She remembered that she had stood in front of him and wrapped her hands around his head as he sat on the chair, pulling him into her, despite having no clue on how to comfort him or if she was even supposed to let him get so close.

But it had felt right, letting him bury his face into her stomach as he mourned the loss of a father. She had gently patted his head for hours as he cried, knowing in that moment that she wanted to always be a shoulder for him to cry on when things got hard.

Much like he was for her during that time, with her father, Anwar, trying to take more of a role in her life and actually acknowledging her presence, which left her utterly confused and hurt. Murtasim had been her source of comfort even in his turmoil, despite the fact that there were so many others around for them to seek comfort in.

"It's been so long." Meerab muttered. All of those things were in the past.

"Whatever, if he wants to marry this Zara chick, fine. There are plenty of fish out in the sea!" Ajiya sighed.

"Ajiya!" Rumi whined.

Ajiya didn't know how wrong she was, Meerab had once resisted the idea of being Murtasim's wife, wondering why she had to marry him where there were so many choices out there. Her mami had always lamented the fact that Meerab wouldn't return to the Shah home, wanting her to marry either Armaan or Hamza. The thought had made her feel nauseous although the relation was similar.

Murtasim was different from them all, mature with a quiet strength and intelligence that made him wise beyond his years. Even before the immense burden of being the patriarch of the Khan Family fell onto his shoulders. Murtasim was comfort. He was home. The more men she met in her life, the more those words rang true.

"Meerab, listen, he clearly feels something for you, he stood up again his own mother and got her to agree to letting you do the LLB!" Rumi reasoned, trying to placate her.

That was true. She remembered the exact moment that Murtasim had captured her whole heart. It was when he stood by her side as she finished high school, begging Maa Begum and her father to let her pursue a Bachelors of Law (LLB) rather than the short Bachelor of Arts women of their family completed prior to being married off.

In the absence of his father, it was the first time Murtasim had wielded his right to make the final decision, supporting her against his mother, and the father who suddenly thought he had the right to tell her what to do with her life. It had been nothing less than a battle, and it was the first time she had heard Murtasim raise his voice.

He told them it made sense for her, that she could help handle the family's legal dealing, and he'd take her to court himself when she needed to go. And that he wouldn't hear a word against it.

"Maybe it was just to send her away!" Ajiya muttered.

"I swear I am going to kill you, Ajiya!" Rumi yelled while whacking Ajiya with her pillow repeatedly.

"What? I am being practical – he is your cousin, he has never said that he loves you, your parents just decided to get you married and keep money in the family. At the end of the day, he is a man. I can't say that he wouldn't latch onto a girl who shows interest like any other man. He's related to Arslan after all!" Ajiya defended.

"Arslan is my cousin too." Meerab muttered, he was her younger mamu's son. Murtasim's exact opposite in every way, where Murtasim was stoic, Arslan was loud and flirty.

"And he's the biggest flirt in this world!" Ajiya exclaimed.

Meerab was sure that Arslan just had a crush on Ajiya, for he bothered her constantly, he too lived in Karachi for school and Meerab saw him often enough for his world to collide with Ajiya's.

"Shut up Ajiya!" Rumi whined.

"Maybe Ajiya's right." Meerab sighed. Murtasim had never indicated that he felt anything for her.

Maybe she was the only one that missed Murtasim. She had come to Karachi, eagerly awaiting the moments she would see him again. But they were few and far in between, even as he finished university and her father, Anwar, helped him take the reins, guiding him to take the spot his father had occupied. At first, she had thought he was just overwhelmed with all the responsibilities, but then the weeks became months, and the months became years.

They rarely talked, but when they spoke, they didn't talk about their impending marriage, an awakened sense of what it meant having settled in.

"Maryam teases you and calls you Bhabhi for god's sake!" Rumi said while shooting Ajiya a glare.

"Murtasim doesn't call her jaan or anything endearing." Ajiya pointed out.

"He calls her meri Meerab." Rumi said with a smitten smile on her face, she was obsessed with the two of them together, they reminded her of the Bollywood movie couple that she adored, she called them the Pakistani Prem & Preeti.

"Shut up, Rumi! Like you know anything." Ajiya rolled her eyes.

"You don't know him! I was here the one time he came for dinner, for Meerab's birthday!" Rumi defended.

Murtasim had visited for dinner once in five years, it wasn't a great feat, and it had been over two years ago. Even her cousins from her mother's side visited her more, she had seen Armaan bhai and Hamza bhai a handful of times when their business brought them to Karachi where Arslan went to school. Albeit, Meerab was sure that Hamza bhai came to stare at Rumi.

Meerab had only seen Murtasim once. Somewhere between her leaving for university, and him visiting Karachi, Murtasim had gone from a lanky boy to a well-built man. It was during that dinner that she realized that he made her blood run hot. She had spent all of the dinner looking at the way his lips wrapped around the food, the way his white shirt stretched so perfectly across his broad chest and arms.

"They were looking at each other with so much desire that everyone was uncomfortable!" Rumi whispered quietly, as if saying it quietly negated how scandalous her words were.

Meerab hadn't realized that everyone had noticed, but Rumi's words suddenly brought into light why she had been unable to spend even a moment alone with him during that trip. They were always quick to be separated, a chaperone around whenever they were together.

"Lust and love are two different things!" Ajiya muttered.

"Ajiya, I swear." Rumi cried before taking in a deep breath. "He refers to all of us as his sisters, even Zara, but you have always been Meerab." Rumi pointed out.

"That's only because he isn't friends with the rest of you!" Ajiya pointed out.

"QUIET!" Meerab exclaimed lifting her head off the bed. "I honestly can't take more of this back-and-forth."

"Just ask him when you see him." Rumi said in a soft voice. "You're going back home, he lives there, there are plenty of opportunities to ask."

"And what do I ask him? Why he never calls me? Why we've only had about ten conversations in the five years I have been here? If he misses me like I miss him? Or if he's found someone else that takes up all his time?" Meerab sighed, trying to push back the tears.

He had never visited after that one time, and when she had time to go back to the Khan Mansion on rare occasions, she barely caught a glimpse of him.

"Meerab." Rumi and Ajiya both said softly.

"I thought it'd be different, knowing that you're supposed to be with the person...that I didn't have to keep guessing and wondering."

"Like a soulmates Bollywood movie? He would visit you all the time, and you would introduce him to all your friends as your fiancée?" Rumi sighed, her eyes wide.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, like a Bollywood movie."

"You're worrying for nothing, Meerab. Trust me, if that man is not in love with you, I'll change my name, and I will hurt him myself if any of these doubts are true." Rumi promised making Meerab smile, Rumi was a kind soul, a preacher of non-violence, so for her to offer to hurt someone meant a lot.

Ajiya scoffed. "And then she'll say sorry after and start crying."

Meerab couldn't help but laugh at that.

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Author's Note: If you've read or are reading "Mohabbat Nahi, Ishq", you know I teased the idea of a "what if" where Meerab always knew that she would marry Murtasim. This is that story. I would love to hear your thoughts :)