I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her name was grief. - C.S Lewis

Ayna rested her head against his pectoral. His thick arms, wound around her bare slender waist, tugging her closer. His broad back cut off the cold wind from reach Ayna, his hands tracing soft flowers against the exposed part of her stomach. A soft, lazy smile on his face.

"Ayna?" Zaeem kissed her browbone.

"Hmm," she hummed in reply, nuzzling her face deeper into his warm chest.

"If I made you a ring right now, would you marry me?" He whispered.

White fog descending on them, as pure as their affections for each other. Ayna placed her hand against his cheekbones, eyes taking his facial expressions noticing the sincerity in them.

"I would. I'd marry you even without rings Zaeem". She uttered.

Zaeem chuckled, sitting upright, bringing Ayna's body along, hugging her tight. He dropped a kiss on her collarbone. Taking a few wildflowers and making them into a makeshift ring. Sliding them onto her finger, leaving a soft kiss.

"You deserve all the riches in this world janum," [beloved,] Zaeem whispered against her lips.

Ayna giggled in glee, her fingers softly sliding up his arm, resting against the heated skin of his throat. Her thumb softly rubbing in circular motions, a prideful smirk resting on her lips as she stared at him lazily.

"I know a lot of people who'd beg to differ," she poked her tounge out.

"Logon sai kia lena dena humara? Kuch tou unko kehna hi hai, I'd rather they say shit on our walima," [What do we have to do with people? They're going to say something regardless,] [wedding reception,] he clicked his tounge.

"Will your family agree?" She tapped his nose.

"They will. Love is the most important part in my family". He uttered with great pride.

"Of course it is, have they considered the one you're in love with being a prostitute?" Ayna scoffed.

"You realise my eldest uncle married one. Her passing is a whole separate situation," Zaeem smiled softly.

Ayna nodded, taking a deep breath, resting her body in his arms she looked up at the stars. A chilly dread settling in her bones as Zaeem hovered over her, his eyes starry as the sky above. A childlike innocence rested upon his features as he drank in her own, nuzzling his nose against her cheek in a soft artistic stroke. Giggles bubbling in Ayna's chest.

"Zaeem!" She laughed.

The sound of her soprano giggles reverberating against the still air. His hands sliding around her waist, tickling the exposed skin.

"Marry me right now Ayna!" Zaeem begged.

"Why not wait until tomorrow? Bring your parents over like a proper gentleman?" She teased.

"Kyun keh kal kisi nai nahi dekha," [Because no one has seen tomorrow,] tears filled his eyes.

"Marriage or not. I'm only your's Sardar Zaeem. Ap har haal mein Qabool hain, Qabool hain, Qabool hain". [Noble] [In any condition I accept you, accept you, accept you.] Ayna whispered.

"And you know what Ayna? Ap bhi har haal mein, har zindagi mein, dard mein, sukh mein, jeetay waqt aur mout keh mun mein bhi Qabool hain, Qabool hain, Qabool hain". [You in any condition, in every life, in pain, in peace, while I live and whilst I'm breathing my last even then, I accept you, accept you, accept you.] He whispered in return.

His hands brushing aside her loose hair, laying feather light kisses on her face. His lips whispering promises and worshiping each inch of her breathless face. The redness spreading across her neck and the fire curling inside their veins, pooling like a lava at their cores was unmissable. Ayna rubbed her hands against his back, sliding her hands under his chest and feeling the toned body underneath her fingertips. As she traced a pathway, she intensified the pain that he felt, their eyes looking into each others. A dangerous glint swirling in their eyes ; darkness dripping with each blink. Swollen lips parted as Ayna leaned up and he bent forward. Their lips meeting in between and fire works erupting.

"Ayna I-I," Zaeem coughed.

Sitting upright as Ayna rubbed his back softly. Worry marring her features.

"Are you okay Zaeem?" She enquired.

"I'm fine. It's nervousness coupled with my asthma. But I need you to know Ayna that I love you. No matter what happens!" He professed.

Ayna nodded in reply, tears dripping down the side of her nose bridge as she hugged him tight. A dread was inside of her. That her home would be stolen from her before it was actually ever hers - just like always. There was a gaping hole inside of her chest, it bit at her flesh and burned her blood. The free flowing plasma evaporated and her bones turned brittle as they crushed under the weight of her expectations, the frustrations dripping out of her eyes in a hot mess.

"Ayna don't do this, please do not cry," Zaeem comforted.

"Zaeem I-my life is a compilation of tragedy. Each worse than the previous. I can't go through anymore!" She sobbed.

"And I promise, you won't go through more". He smiled.

Ayna nodded, kissing him softly. Ignoring the pain inside her chest, the gnawing feeling was perhaps her conscious. Maybe it wanted to hold her back, it wanted her to stay inside the cocoon. Wasn't it people who wanted everyone to branch out? To take a leap of faith. Sighing, she pecked his forehead. Maybe he could be her leap of faith.

Only for her to regret the decision in twenty-four hours.

---

Ayna woke up with a start. She wiped the sweat dripping from her brow, resting her hand softly against her rapidly beating chest. The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, five in the morning and the world was already thriving. She took a deep breath, stalking towards the jammed window, fighting against the lever as she opened it-a large squeak her only companion as she felt the wind rush in and touch her heated face. Sinking to her knees, she rested her head on the windowsill.

Her movements had caused Sarah to wake up. Her eyes still blurry as she walked towards Ayna. Resting a hand on her shoulder, jolting Ayna out of her thoughts.

"Kia baat hai Ayna?" [What is it Ayna?] Sarah inquired.

"Same old. Same old". Ayna smiled awkwardly.

"Ayna this isn't normal. Talk to me, khuda ka wasta!" [For God's sake!] She cried.

"I'm fine. It's just that the ghosts of my past won't stop haunting me," she stared at the clear bright skies.

"Don't make them the centre of your universe. Ghosts should remain out of sight," she emphasised.

Shaking her head, Ayna rested her body against Sarah's bosom. Her mother's arms wrapping around her frame as tears fell from her eyes once again. The memories of the man she loved would not stop from running around, on repeat like a broken record. All she wanted was to get away. From herself. From the shell she had become. From the shudders, the pleasure and pain brought onto her soul by the remembrance of Zaeem Shah.

His name meant 'cheif' or 'ruler'. And that was exactly what he had been to her. The chieftain of her soul ; ruler of her mind. She had felt him take over each inch of her being, his departure had left her more than broken. And to her sore, open wound the pain of him breaking her trust was worse. The feel of his body's warmth as he forcefully touched her and the calloused hands of his friends or whoever they were could not have been forgotten by her ever.

"I guess. Anyways, let's sleep because tonight is a big one!" Ayna all but dragged her on the bed.

Sarah only shaking her head, staring at her back, hoping it would all falk into place for her soon enough.

---

Laila brushed the mascara wand against her thick lashes, chewing on her lower lip in nervousness. The glass bangles in her hand shoving against each other with every slight movement. Satisfied with the curled lashes, she brushed her hair, passing her reflection a wide smile. The bright, pearly teeth glinting underneath the yellow lamps of the powder room. Her attention was on herself as she put her hair into a loose braid, the cherry red sharara, and bronze fitted blouse hugged her tight. She smiled at herself in great enthusiasm, palming her heavy breast as her hand slid down to her almost flat stomach.

"Perfect". A man's voice whispered behind her, the door locking.

Gasping, Laila turned around, a scream escaping her lips. His hands muffling it as they rested on her ruby red lips, sharp eyes signalling for her to maintain silence. Laila stared at him with narrowed eyes, her breasts crushed against his toned chest. The spicy, musky scent that wafted off of him played with her mind. She felt heat raidate off of him, his other hand sliding up her bare arm. Goosebumps spreading out on her whole being. Slowly he removed his hand from her plump lips, his hot thumb messing up the maroon lipstick on her lowerlip. Dragging a path down to her visible collarbone. Resting there, sexual tension easing around them as he bent down, whispering against her cushioned lips.

"Don't make a single sound. I'll speak and you'll listen!" Threat laced each word.

Nodding her head, Laila fisted the material of his cotton shirt. Heat pooling at her core as he brushed his hands against her plump ass. Sliding them upwards, fingers sinking into her flesh as he spoke slowly.

"I'm sorry for the way I've treated you. As a person first and foremost you deserve respect. I shouldn't have treated you like that, and I hope you can forgive me. Time away has taught me that it's not mere infatuation. It's love! Marry me Rani". Azmaray placed his head against hers.

Eyes closed as he felt himself drift off. Remembering how he had repented. Praying and crying for forgiveness. It had taken him two weeks to muster up the courage to ask for forgiveness. He needed to woo Rani before his wedding took place. She was the woman he needed next to him.

"No". Laila replied.

"Why?" He questioned, a dagger tearing through the flesh of his heart.

"It's not because of what you said. I forgive you for it. But sir, I love the freedom my profession gives me. The adrenaline rush I get from fucking a variety of men. It's everything and more. And marriage will tie me down whilst you get to prance around still. So leave before I call for help," Laila spoke, getting a hold of her senses.

Defeated, Azmaray sneaked out. He would have forced her, but his love was pure and forcing would do it wrong. If she was for him, then she would find her way to his arms. He just had to wait and see.

---

Ayna wandered mindlessly through the crowded wedding hall. They had been booked for a performance at the wedding and now she could not find her sister. She gulped as worry shot through her veins. Praying hard and fast that it would all be okay and her sister would find her way back safely. As she stumbled out of the marquee and into the open air, rubbing her bare arms as she looked for her. The dark, cold night reminded her of that fateful day.

"Ayna!" A voice called.

Turning herself rapidly, at the sound of that familiar voice, she stared in shock. Zaeem stood infront of her, his eyes filled with tears. She had expected this day, but when it came her walls turned iron hard and refused to collapse.

She had touched hell fire because of her past.
And now she would bury it in the ashes of her dead self

"Excuse me sir," she feigned arrogance.

"Ay-" he tried.

"Don't! You are free to go Mr.Shah, I have places to be," she fixed her veil.

Walking away from him - just like he had done years ago.

Mahrukh hit 400K so this was necessary ya'know?

Next chapter has a time skip and the story is about to pick pace. Also get your asses ready cause it's about to get wild!

Lots of drama and secrets coming your way!

Thoughts & Comments

Also guys read I am Madiha by AJawaid its a stunning work of art ❤