رنگ بدل لئے اپنے سبھی رشتوں نہ
پھر حیراں کیوں ہو اگر دعاوت پر دشمن بھی ہو

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Chapter 9 : Dawaat aur Darab ka waar

Passing a glance, Golnar went back and forth with the dress in hand and the one on her bed. Ivory or the deep shades of a riveting red. Innocence or the act of seduction. Novelty or the craftiness of a woman scorned? A deep back or a sinking neckline. The choices were between herself and the image of what her mother was. Her hand ran over the silk and stared at the cotton. The differences were stark and agonisingly so.

It was not a simple battle of white versus red. It was one between her desires and what was required of her.

Within her chest the turmoil that leapt around in noiseless waves, crushed her spirits. Damaging until remained of it was a whisper of a cloak. All that was needed was a strong gust to blow the lasts of it over. Shivering under the chilled Siberian winds that had been cruising over head since the early hours of the morning. Her fingers drove over the thread work. Chewing on the swell of her bottom lip, convincing herself to make a choice.

Golnar's soft hands — like the gentlest of snow flakes, rubbed the tip of her nose as it sunk low. Her chin hanging between the sharp length of her collarbones, all but kissed the warm skin. A cough racked through her chest. Her lungs squeezed tight as it splintered through, like a harsh piece of wood nailed into her flesh.

Hot flashes danced between her wavering vision. Tucking her toes underneath her hips as she plopped over the mattress, running her fingers through Maum's spotted fur. Golnar was at a place unreachable. Memories of the silk and gauze spread over her father's bed. Giggles that ran through the kitchen as the chefs worked behind the flurry of her skirts. Sharpening gazes and maroon shades of lipsticks. The sweet J'adore perfume that could not have been done without, the heels clasped around her ankles as she danced with strangers. Golnar remember it all. Despite having left them a time long ago. The woman that Armina Arbaz Naazim had been. Golnar would never forget.

Sniffing the smokey coat of her feline, Golanr puckered her lips in a soft frown. Pressing a kiss over it's head over and over again. A light residue of her lipstick left behind as a result of her actions. Cooing at the mewling kitten she pressed her cheek over maum's abdomen, running her fingers through and over it's slender spine.

In the silence of their breaths and heart beats, the ticking of the grandfather clock kept them company. The brass belt ticked away, brushing the sides of it's enclosure before the pendulum retreated. It's thick arms tipped into the direction forward, not stilling behind for her. From the oil lamps, the shadows around the room fell into the centre of the bedroom. They covered the skins and the cloth, the thick cotton bed sheets were wrapped in it's opium shade.

Rubbing the hilt of her palm against the swell of her eyes, Golnar plucked her feet over the ground. Stumbling, her feet stuck into the blanket that had fallen off, she giggled. Watching the ivory of her dress fall against her on to the floor. The decision made for her, clarity wrapping itself around her head.

"Golnar bibi mehmaan agaye hai."
[Miss Golnar the guests are here.]

Golnar wheezed in laughter, throwing her veil over her bed, raising a hand from underneath the iron frame of her bed, she thanked her handmaid. Running her hands over her frizzy hair.

"Mein bas pandrah minute mein aarahi hun." She nodded, wrapping her arm around the deep red attire.
[I'm coming in fifteen minutes.]

Golnar changed out of her loose shalwar kameez, tugging the fitted red shirt over her head. The organza fabric, covered in embroidery of the same cherry shade and beads, hugged her curvaceous figure. Falling just above her knees, the satin shalwaar rose a few millimetres above her ankles. Putting on display the thin white gold anklet her father had gifted her on Golmina's wedding. Tucking the organza veil over her body, wrapping one end loosely above her hair.

Breathing in heavily, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It brought out the rosiness of her cheeks and the flossiness of her hair. Thick and fine, the strands covered the entirety of her upper back. Golnar pulled the zipper in place, feeling the pleats added to give the shirt space. Humming in a mixture of displeasure and delight, she rubbed a peach lipstick over her lips. The line and kohl smudged enough already. Her highlighter flaunting the sharp angle of her cheekbones. And of course, the tiny balis, made of copper and rubies covered the elfin shape of her ears.

The tunes of Madam slipped through her tongue and the lavish veil slipped over her hair as she ran downstairs. Her fingers lightly cruising over the banister as she made way towards the guest lounge. Lights melted over her skin and she was like a free flowing fire, one that leapt in all wild directions.
Eating.
Ravaging.

Gathering her wits and her breath around herself as she jumped over the last step, a wheeze escaped her lips. Arms shooting out before herself to break the fall. Golnar felt shivers run down her spine, imagining the bath of blood she would have — death almost kissing her lips in the gentlest of touches. An oomph and a shriek pierced through the still air of the foyer before the diwan, oxygen running out of her lungs. Water filled her eyes and ran down the length of her nose.

Though the impact she waited for never arrived. Instead came something different. A warmth — unlike the chill of the marble floors she would have kissed, brushed her lower spine and cheeks. Peeling open her eyes in shock, the sounds of her beating heart loud in the desolate silence as she pulled back. It rubbed against her ribcage, her heart. Red and hastening, Golnar coughed softly.

It's iridescent green and hazel met the vivid shades of soil. Craning the length of her neck, feeling a pulse throb over her shoulders. A dusting of red rubbed over her deep neckline and cheeks. The veil falling between them like a curtain. Upholding the vow of innocence. Keeping her pure aura from being tainted completely. Saving her breasts from pushing against his chest.

Golnar pushed a hand over his taut chest, pulling back, her bangles brushing the material of his kameez. Sniffing under her breath as he stared at her with a drunken grin, Golnar spoke in muffled words. Seeking asylum from his molten gaze that burned her skin, bone and flesh. Altogether.

"Maaf kijiye ga, mein dekh kar nai chal rahi thi." She apologised.
[Forgive me please, I was not looking where I was going.]

"Har war tenu bachan koi nai ave ga." He chuckled.
[Not every-time will someone come to save you.]

Golnar frowned. Rubbing a finger over her forehead she felt aware—hyper aware of their close contact all of a sudden. Tipping her body backwards, she fought against the hold of his arms. Though it only tightened around her. Almost a bit like quicksand.

The man's calloused palms pressed into the skin of her lower back from the material of her shirt, tiny tremors danced against her skin in a rapturous bubble. His eyes were like the rocky bed of the Qurban river. The crook of his lips — fleshy and mocking her with a lust filled grin as he refused to let go. Sniffing the scent of her perfume, he pulled her close, her palms smacking his bicep in long lasting fury.

"Viyah karein gi?" He whispered.
[Will you marry me?]

"Kia?" She shrieked, shaking under his gaze.
[What?]

Watching the golden bulbs flicker above them, until there was but a hint of light in the vast hall. Grey, furious clouds wrapping around the outside world. The inanimate chill only increased, sharp icicles froze in the air. Sharp and harsh winds countered around the glass panes, striking the barks of the trees that had been growing in the space for decades. The grains of the zephyrs moved everything around them. Putting on a feast for the eyes. Leaves and sticks alike, moving through the thicket, striking the walls of the home. Unmarred shadows spread across the threshold, ones that were not maimed with the crassness of the home's secrets.

Darab's eyes ran over her soft face. Drooping low to her neck, the length of which was barely hidden under the delicious wrap of the thin organza veil. The fists she lashed over his flesh felt like nothing to him. His muscles were used to much harsher fatigue, working hands on in the fields had taught him better. Trimmed — his beard covered the rest of his tan skin, and mischief flooded his pools of ember. They dipped lower still, to the well between her collarbone and the base of her neck, a finger taking privileges. Rubbing the warm flesh from the air.

"Ch-chorein mujhe!" She whisper yelled, pulling her face away from his hold.
[Le-let me go!]

"Halay te mei parheya ae, aidi vi ki jaldi kuriye."
[I have just grabbed you, what is the hurry girl.]

Darab grinned, his palm running higher over her back. Dragging a thumb against the zipper, he almost laughed as she shivered under his touch. Tears filling her vision offered him comfort. Seeking revenge of his patronage, Darab felt alive as the heat spread over his palm. Yet the sound of a startling sniffle, broke the hazy shadows that clouded his head. Pulling back — as if she burnt him, he pinched his nose is agony.

"Ja!"
[Go!]

It felt almost impossible that he had let go of her with such ease, with hatred filled her eyes and changing the shade of them to a wild black, Golnar pivoted. Wiping her fingers against her eyes, stifling the sobs. She fixed the veil over her head as she turned the corner towards the dining room.

The one day she had ditched her plain whites and shades of alabaster that kept her tied to the image of an innocent woman, Golnar had found herself in the midst of a scandal. Rubbing her lips together, she stared at the fiery shade of her dress, loathe filling her heart. Even more. Harsher. Far more intense than it had ever been. Feeling still the touch of his roughness—a delirious sugariness she had almost admired, Golnar felt sick.

They were privileges Golnar had vowed to give only to her husband. And that is what she would do, keep herself for her husband and husband alone. Taking a deep breath, vowing to hold her ground in front of him, she stepped inside. Wearing the bright smile, the only part of her that resembled her father that night.

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Went out today with friend's. Sorry for delayed updated. Tomorrow is India vs Pakistan. Im so stoked lets gooooo