Women impure are for men impure, and men impure for women impure, and women of purity are for men of purity, and men of purity are for women of purity: these are not affected by what people say: for them there is forgiveness, and a provision honorable. (Surah an-Nur, Ayah 26)

Chapter Four

"People loose sanity at defeat and you have lost it at victory."

Arnav chuckles as he treads out of washroom. He has changed into chick dark jeans, lined maroon shirt and leather jacket from the Mehendi function dress; Kurta and tight bottoms with embroidered shoes. If he was looking a groom earlier then now he is a model of Denim.

She does not reply feeling too emotional. If he would say another word, she might run out of her patience and strangle him to the death.

"Khushi..." Wasting no time, he comes to stand in front of her – in front of his beautiful imagination – and observes her with adoration.

"Um, washroom." She looks around, implying she wants the payback of her generosity of previous day.

"Why in so hurry?" He raises his brows, flirting with her.

"No, I am in no hurry but you might be for the bachelor's party." Bitch! She curses herself to bare her emotions. Embarrassment hugs her at the imagination of him dancing at his victory of making her fall for him. Has she really fallen for him?

"Oh..."

His experience helps him to unravel the innocent jealousy inferred in her tone, words and body language. Does it not feel cute to have someone's possessive hold over you?

"Well, did we ask what you all girls do a night before yesterday at the pre-wedding bash?" Instead of calming her nerves, he throws back the question.

Her eyes brim being helpless in front of idiotic heart.

"Hmm..." She hums, tauntingly, more of clarifying her own self that she possesses no right to object his any kind of activity.

"Anyways, congrats you won." His model eyes marvel at her adorable state.

His current stare filled with love is piercing her wounded heart whereas it would had been enough to impregnate his receptionist by now.

"Thank you." She raises her head, feeling the confidence at the name of her victory. She has beaten him in dancing field at the least.

But you are the real player of hearts, Arnav.

"According to bet, the loser is here – all Yours." He notions his being from head to toe.

She is stabbed in heart by his words. How can he be hers? If he is talking about pre-wedding bash, the girls had not call men for strip tease and had liquor all night.

However, she thanks the salt lamps of his room to balm her aching head as well as her possessive hatred. This soothing balm has saved her from a mini heart attack. The people in relationships must have these lamps in their rooms.

"How?" She asks him to refine his own punishment though only death sentence is just for the player of divine emotions. He has snatched her innocence from her. Now, she would get a husband who must has loved a girl in his life. Because she believes too strong onto the Holy Quran's verses – Women impure are for men impure, and men impure for women impure, and women of purity are for men of purity, and men of purity are for women of purity.

He comes closer. His forehead's creases, darken orbs and minty breaths are intimidating her to the edge, making her vulnerable.

By his good luck, the door is closed. His thumb raises in air and moves as if caressing her lips. Despite the distance between them, she shivers upon getting a hint of his wild touch and beasty intentions to the core and jerks her head low towards right.

"Aik Maheenday Ke Baad Jab Meri Biwi Ban Kar Mere Bistar par Mera Intizar Kar Rahi hogi, Uss Raat Smjhaon ga k kese!" [After a month, when you would wait for me on my bed, as my wife, I will answer your 'How'!"] His breaths inhale her scent and goosebumps form on her body at the anticipation of his touch.

Is this a proposal?

Thankfully he has not bared his desires. She would have been screaming on hills otherwise.

Grabbing his wallet from bed with slight shivering hands, he tucks it in his back-pocket along the mobile.

When he turns, he sees her on floor – semi conscious, floating in his words. The manly satisfaction hits him hard, making him prouder of himself.

He lowers to her level and inquires with sheer concern.

"Hey, you o...?" His luck is unluckily disturbed by the intrusion of Aeidah in his room. She stills as she sees her brother. The culprit feelings creep her which soon are suppressed with the concern for Khushi.

"Doll face, you okay?"

Listening to the nickname given by his sister to his ladylove, he feels gratified. Why would he not? She is really a doll face.

"She must haven't eaten." Arnav assumes, rolling eyes.

"Come here." He helps her sister in making Khushi sit on his bed. She is shivering. Aeidah peels her Maroon shawl from around her and makes Khushi wear it.

"Eat this..." He presents her a pack of Bake time after unwrapping it.

His tension lessens when she finishes five pieces at once.

"Aapi, now I have got to go. You take care of her. I may not return in night; she can sleep here." Giving his statement, he exits, taking her heart with him.

After proposing her in the oddest way, the bastard he went to club for guy-time.

Arnav...

She takes his name in heart and shivers creep her existence realizing she is sitting on his bed.

His confession replays in her mind.

Now whenever she would be looking to bed, hell any kind of bed, she would imagine a night with him. Ugh! She hates him to make her this week.

Observing the condition of khushi, Aeidah tucks her in bed, under the warm velvety black duvet. "You rest, I will come with your dinner after changing into simple attire, mm?"

Drained, she only nods and stares as Aeidah takes her leave.

Once alone, she looks around, feeling pleased that electric heater is on. She is sweating cold.

His words have occupied her cognitive abilities.

"But if he is serious with me, he should not have gone!" She glooms. The pink blush on her cheeks is not even making her happy. She wants to ask him innumerous questions.

The reality knocks her head when her icy feet go warm. "Nothing can happen between us. Nothing!" Tears drip down from her eyes as she thinks of her family rules.

She can never get married to Arnav Raza Meer because in her family, they don't marry off two sisters in same home. It's a strict rule. She was idiot to weave dreams, she was idiot all along to not strict him off with her angry glare which have been really productive with all of her cousins. The poor they fear from her.

Alas! She is terribly tangled in love of Arnav Raza Meer. She might never forget him. Never.

"Ya Allah. Please, give me patience. Help me in hating him." She prays hard, wailing.

Her make up is ruined. So, she gets up, steps towards his wardrobe and selects some old shirt to wear. Her expensive fancy frock will get ruin whilst removing the makeup.

Once, she finds it, she goes towards mirror, puts the lens off into its box which was in her clutch. Next, she plucks off her artificial eye lashes and removes her flower jewels arranging it on his dressing table.

She feels as a newly wedded bride.

Hoping his face wash or any other cream will help her in makeup removing, she picks the Vaseline bottle for additional assistance and takes the way to his washroom along his shirt. Tears keep dripping from her eyes, knowing she cannot marry the man she has given her heart.

This room, this washroom, this place is not hers. She can never be here with the rightful position.

Her jumbled mind is pushing her to edge, demanding sleep. Thankfully, they would be leaving to home once the dinner served by Meers is consumed.

***

"Mix Gin, orange slice and iced tea, for two, please." Moib Hashim requests the bartender for a drink and looks at his buddy

"Dude, on which planet are you?" He asks his lost best buddy.

"When you fell in love with Bhabhi, off course, you were on love planet." Arnav can shut off his emotions from the whole universe but not from his nursery best friend. Though, he has been successfully keeping the secret of him being in love for the sake of his woman's precious dignity.

"Wae, Wae." He teases, punching him in stomach. "Rascal, blurt all out." Moib demands to know the love story of one of the most important persons in his life. The top most is his lady love.

"She is my tranquil as well as my whisked mind." He chuckles, remembering her lost state on his floor. How would she react when that night actually comes?

"Well, I get that. Your sleeps are whisked if we get to the reality." Moib reaches the man-point, pointing to his lower organ's restlessness.

"Not only on bed, I want her in front of me, in my life. I want to be her recognition." Arnav explains his longings.

"How long?"

"Have lost the count of years." Until, he gets succeeded in official commitment, he would not ruin her name in a club.

"Ouch!" Moib animates a heart attack. "I shared my love to you when I was unassured myself. How mean of you, bastard!"

He laughs at another punch. Best friends are legit to beat you black and blue.

"Thank you." Moib says, receiving the four shots. It's the second bachelors party of Aqeeb Raza Meer. Everything is free for the mob – even the girls. Alike the previous one, this is also well organized and private. Only the invited men and hired call girls have permission to enter.

Arnav is only having eye-fun remembering the face of the charming beauty. He is here only because of his friends and brother. When Aqeeb denied for a slutty bachelor's party, his cousins and friends arranged it – not once but twice. Only he knows, what Aakifah Bhabhi would do to Aqeeb if she gets to know that her husband enjoyed a strip tease and lap dance from a naked bliss. It was a gift from his bestest friend.

Once, the drinks are thrown down the throat, he feels fresh. Though, her sick face is pulling him out, he has to stay at the party. He is the groom's brother. He cannot leave.

"Bro..." Taimor calls him. "That girl in blue is eye-raping you." He is the youngest sibling.

"I know." Arnav shrugs, lifting the sexy plate from the table. Well, the simple white plate is not sexy but the continent in it is. The fried chicken is picturing a naked girl with legs up, meatball boobs and face with ketchup high lightening buds and lips. There are also fried meat balls in the plate along some salad leaves.

"What are you doing here, anyways?" Arnav's brotherly instincts get stirred. "You are only 20."

"Correction, I am eighteen plus. It's not my mistake you wasted your early twenties in only files." Mocking his brother, Taimor steps ahead.

Arnav smiles too and looks down the plate. Going red in the face, he thinks of the night he explored the huge private collection of his admired lady. How beautiful she will look under him, moaning his name, scratching his back out of lust and passion! His lower organ happily stretches at the flaming thoughts.

He splits the meat ball into two and pops it in his mouth with the help of fork. They only way to fight this whisked state of mind is food.

"Still. Lost. Bud." Moib strides towards Arnav from the dance floor where most of the men are dancing with girls, teasing and playing with them.

"Even a day before yesterday, you only devoured girls with eyes. And today, you are another story; not even properly looking." He teases his friend's love-lost condition. "Your lower part is little excited, though." They are always at ease with dirty conversations.

"You go, enjoy. That skinny one might open legs for you – by heart." At Arnav's reply, he sniggers into an open laughter.

Moib forwards hand to his plate, passing him a smug smirk to the still untouched sexy chicken. Before he could take a piece, Arnav slaps his hand away.

"Take your meal." He has thought of Khushi while gawking at the piece. For no reason, he would allow anyone to take a bite.

"It stings." Moib dramatizes and picks a cream dipped cherry from the tray of waitress wearing only a loose black apron.

"Hi, sweetie." The waitress addresses both, giving a jiggle to her boobs. She has been ridiculously paid to please the men at party. For sure, she wants to be honest.

"Hello, Babe." Acknowledging her gesture, Moib leans to her cheek and kiss sweetly, preparing it for a sharp bite.

"Ouch." The lady winces, grinds his crotch and moves ahead with her tease job of creamy cherries and grinding the men as she pasts them.

"Do you want me to fix that desperate blue for you?" Being a male friend, he suggests something really dirty. "She must have reached God knows how many orgasms by only gawking at you." Saying, Moib splits into full laughter.

"Not my type." Arnav denies, straightly.

"The naked girls don't matter. We men really like the shy type traditional girls who would strangle us to death at the point of their dignity." Out of his evening blabbering, this one is what Arnav likes by heart.

This is a harsh reality. Men would go out, flirt and taste call girls, but at the end, their preference for marriage will be the traditional, shy and pious girl.

"Hmm..." He mms, lulling his heart with the thoughts of his lady.

"Well, the sister of Aakifah Bhabhi... She is really something. Cracker!" Moib comments casually not knowing that he has burnt someone's heart.

Arnav narrower his eyes which have so much of anger, aggressiveness, and disgust. The mixed feelings of love and Ghairat scares Moib. He has never witness such emotions in his friend's eyes.

"Pardon, pardon." But his apology is too late. The fist is nearly rammed into his nose. "Whoa, easy man!" Moib tries to calm down the lava he has ignited.

As Arnav lowers his fist, Moib parrots. "So, I guess she is your lady-love." His jolly tone attempts to calm his friend.

Five minutes pass and still he is a lava, shivering with the anger.

"Okay, dude, here is my face. Do what you want." The second thought was not needed and Arnav brutally rams his fist into his face – not once but twice.

The power stumbles Moib at his place and he groans with the pain, wishing to bleed and not have a soar nose. His wife would go mad.

But his nose does not bleed. Some internal fracture, he guesses. His jaw for sure, will require steam massage for over two weeks.

The closer mob halt as they look at the two men with curiosity. Moib notions with hand, telling people to enjoy the party.

"Happy, now?" Despite the piercing pain, he asks while laughing.

"Yes." The determined answer of Arnav gives some peace to his heart. He is happy their friendship is as insane as of animals.

"I am sorry. I did not know she is going to be my Bhabhi."

Arnav laugh back, hugging his buddy. Their friendship will remain intact till their last breaths.

But he does not know that the lady has fought for is tormenting in his room, asking The Creator to annihilate his love from her heart.

How would he make her his when now she does not want to be his?

He knows he is not doing extremes sins here, but she... how can she make her heart understand? How would he make her understand?

***

Sad ending to the chapter is only because you did not give them votes and comments