New week new update! Yaay! This one is a short one, I know. I live for your satisfaction. Expect another one this week.

"What?" He almost sputters out the water he had been drinking.

"I am gonna strip here. Is there a problem?" I ask, trying to bring up my innocent look, holding the dress in one hand.

"No-o, why would it be?" He stutters, his eyes never wandering from mine." I think I have something to do in my study. Excuse me."

"No wa-wait! I need you." I say hastily. " I mean help me undress. I can't put that one alone." I say pointing at the dark green anarkali.

His eyes only darken at the mention of changing, he gulps before clearing his throat once, placing the glass on the bedside table and coming to stand near me, "What do I need to do?"

"Take this dress first." I hand over the dress before swantering to the dressing table in his room.

"Come here." I probe, and he begrudgingly follows.

Coming to stand in front of the mirror, so that I can see his reflection behind me holding the dress.

"Unchain me." I order and he follows. Cold air and the brush of his knuckles on my bare flesh evokes goosebumps in its wake. I shiver from his electrifying touch awakening every nerve ending in my body.

I bite my lips, as my eyes close momentarily at the sensation of his knuckles. It vanishes just as fast as it comes. I open my eyes at the loss of his touch but the throb of his Adam's apple washes away the disappointment.

I push down the right sleeve, exposing my milky shoulders before sliding it all the way down to my waist. I stand up so that the material glides down my body in one swift motion. Undoing the ropes of my salwar pants I let it glide down too, leaving me in a pair of lingerie, a prey to his hungry bashful gaze.

His eyes size me up and down like that of a snake before it devours its prey. I shiver slightly, anticipating his move. But he doesn't move an inch. I stare at him through the mirror, his grey eyes reflecting my own needs.

"Here put this on." He says, pushing the material towards me, but not moving an inch from where he's standing. It looks like he's afraid of himself, of what he would do if he's anywhere near me.

"Help me," I whisper as I stand up and turn to face him. I take the dress material from his hands undoing the chain before handing it over to him again. I raise up my hands, waiting for him to glide it through. He does so and the dark green material comes to rest near my sheen, the chiffon brushing against my bare legs. The sleeves come down to my wrists. The dress accentuates my curves, highlighting them. Double golden border lines the hem of the anarkali and the ends of the sleeves. The neck is lined by golden dots in a semicircular fashion.

"Now that you are done, can I go?" He asks through clenched teeth.

"Why don't you come any closer?"

"Do you want me to tear that dress off you and take you to bed?" He asks, not looking at me. Finally the block of metal says something.

"I could get the dress off and then you could take me to bed." I purr, inviting him to take up my proposal.

"No, we will be late."

"Fine, then don't!" I huff turning away. I realise I was being silly all the while. That party must be really important for him to insist on reaching on time.

"I will get dressed." He says before turning back to his cupboards. He takes out a bag and then saunters into the bathroom, closing the door behind.

Sexual frustration on one side and mission on another. I feel ashamed as to how silly I was being, insisting on going to bed, when we have important tasks to handle. My previous mischievous mood disappears replaced by a grimm mood, somewhat akin to our situation.

Turning away from the mirror, I glide in the straight white salwar pants. I moisturize my face with a subtle amount of moisturizer and dab a little bit of lip gloss. I dab some of it on my eyelids to highlight my naturally pinkish eyelids. I eye the eyeliner sitting on one side of the table. I had once thought I would never put it on for him. But tonight, I will. Given my double eyelids, I draw a smooth, thin line, making a little wing at the outer corner. I tie my hair into a french braid given that loose hair is very much troublesome. Satisfied I look at myself in the mirror

Just the simple but beautiful look. Healthy skin can indeed do wonders and save a lot of money. I pull my hair into a french braid, resting it on the right side.

Just then Basheer strides out in a white kurta-pajama and a dark green half sleeved jacket. He looks dashing as it is with his wild unruly hair accentuating his dress. My heart gallops at the fact that we have colour coordinated our wear just like couples. More precisely he did that, since it was him who chose our dresses making my heart swell with a bittersweet feeling.

As soon his eyes set upon me, he stops, doing a double take before his eyebrows crinkle and he opens his mouth about to say something, but then he stops, shakes his head and then he walks to the cupboard. I sigh disappointed that he didn't say anything. Maybe he's retreating back to his old shell after all being his old self won't help him at all.

To say I am surprised when I see him holding a pair of earrings beside me, would be an understatement. It is a pair of crescent shaped gold earrings, studded with diamonds. It is simple but elegant, just the way I like it. But, I don't squeal and hug him like any other woman in my place will, instead I wait for him to say something.

"I got these for you, they would look good on you." He whispers before bending down to kiss the top of my head.

"Thank you. Help me put this on?" I whisper out, almost afraid that I am making another stupid demand. But this isn't a play, this is very real, something I have adored as a child. My father would help my mother put on her Mangalsutra and a childlike part of me wished someday someone would do the same for me. I remember how they looked at each other, with mutual adoration and love. I don't let the bitter memories rise to the surface shroud the beautiful moments my father left me with and steal this moment.

This moment is special not because a part of me had dreamed of a similar situation but because this might be the only time we get to do this. And it was ours, my bitter memories can't steal it away.

When he slips in the earrings, my heart clenches as I take in his reflection in the mirror. Together we are beautiful and majestic. I can't shake off the similarity between us and a married couple. A part of me fervently wishes someday we would get this moment, only where I wouldn't have to worry about us ending up together or not.

"It's done." He whispers. His eyes glints through the mirror as he stares at me. He doesn't shower me with compliments, it's his lingering gaze that does the talking.

"Don't think I didn't understand that little game of yours." He whispers, making every damn nerve ending in my body come alive, "The night awaits you, my darling."

"Me too." I purr out, liking the way he calls me, 'my darling.'

"Let's go then?" He asks, putting out a hand for me to take.

"Yes, let me put this on." I say as I pin the dark green dupatta to one side, leaving the other edge free.

I take his hands, the warm feeling right from his warm gushing blood envelops my clammy, cold fingers. I deliberately leave behind the watch. There's another reason I wanted to avoid going to the party. Something tells me Apa will be there, she must be wanting answers. What am I going to tell her? I can't risk Basheer by telling her about his identity, but I must tell her about Gaffar.

Basheer has already mentioned that he doesn't trust them, so I wonder if he would want me to divulge Gaffar's location to them. I remember the no secrets pact I made with him, and finally decide to ask him.

"What do you think about. . .?"

"About what?" He asks, as we make our way down the stairs.

"Should I tell them about Gaffar's location?" I ask him.

"I told you, I don't trust them. So no."

"They want Gaffar too."

"They need to up their game if that's what they want. You. Will. Not!" He states totally disregarding my suggestion.

"Wait," I say before stopping him and rounding my arms around his lean waist in a hug. Jasmine and his musky odour engulfs me immediately, drawing me farther away from reality.

"Everything's gonna be okay." He whispers into my hair, brushing away a few tendrils

From my face and pressing a light kiss to the back of my ears.

"I hope so," I mumble, my face pressed in the crook of his neck. Kissing him lightly there, I pull away before tugging him on and together we step in the night, hand in hand, reassuring each other.

I just hope tonight will go smoothly.

Author's Note:

Mangalsutra: A symbol of the marital status of a woman. It represents the promise made by a husband to his wife to stay together forever.

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