I am extremely sorry for the late update! But anyway here it is.

"Let me do this." He says, setting me down on a tool in his bathroom. He runs the tap, holding my hand beneath the running water. The flowing stream of clean water washes away the dirt, chemical and pieces of fabrics residing in it. Next he unscrews a bottle of antiseptic before dabbing some of it on a piece of cotton and then uses it to clean the wound. The touch of antiseptic is nothing romantic, the sharp sting makes my eyes water immediately. I close my eyes as if avoiding looking at it would make the sting disappear and bite my lips, while I taste something salty and metallic on my tongue.

"Shush, it's okay," He tries soothing me but the sting and the burn blurs every other sound. I am faintly aware of his warmth disappearing from my side, the sound of rushing water followed by the sweet, citrusy smell of hand sanitizer. The next moment I feel his fingers glide over my skin again before something sharp penetrates my skin like a bee sting, going deeper in my skin before pulling out. A syringe.

"Was that local anaesthesia?" I open my eyes in time to see him pulling out the needle.

"Obviously, do you think, I will just stich it up without giving anesthesia?"

"Oh, no obviously not." I actually had my doubts but I'm so glad he's all equipped. The anaesthesia sets into action, numbing the area. I watch with fascination as to how precisely his fingers move, the curved needle piercing my skin before coming back up, his fine fingers forming a knot before diving again. The thing that made me cringe a lot in the beginning of my internship was suture. I found it the hardest, doing 'ohh' and 'ahh' more than the patient.

"What's that look on your face? You sure you got a degree?" He speaks, bringing me out of my musings.

"Who said I got a degree?" I make an incredulous expression, "You see, I am beautiful so the government said, 'let me give you a degree since you have such a nice face'." I scorn.

"I knew it." He exclaims only to be smacked on his shoulder with my uninjured hand. He gives me a look before resuming his work.

"You seem quite experienced," I wonder aloud.

"We need to. Sometimes on missions we need to look after ourselves. There's no one we can rely on, no one we can trust."

"You can rely on me." I whisper, squeezing his shoulders. You can trust me.

"Yeah and get you to suffer the wounds I should?" He questions, tying the final knot before discarding the needle and wrapping a sterile gauze around my forearm.

"Basheer, I-"

"No, Nehali." He comes to sit in front of me, encasing my face between his palms, "Sahiba, this is why I wanted to keep you away. I didn't want you getting involved and hurt. I can't-I-" He rests his forehead on mine, breathing in deeply, his eyes closing shut momentarily before opening again and staring deeply into mine. I stare in his grey orbs mesmerized at the intensity of those. The grey of his eyes reminds me of the silver lining of a cloud. My eyes don't miss the motion where his tongue darts out, moistening his lips, "I-I-" He sighs, " I just want you to be safe."

I gulp almost afraid my face shows the disappointment the lack of those three words bring. I don't want him to know that I love him, I can't handle his rejection. He's my saving grace, without him, I would be left nowhere. I would rather be floating in a pink bubble than drowning. Therefore, I push it to the back of my mind, close my eyes, breathing him in large gulps. My injured arm rests limply on my thighs while the other one comes up to caresses his face, running over his slight beard to his ears, the pads of my fingers lightly grazing his ears before entangling themselves in his dark, thick, mane.

'Sahiba. . ." He breathes out before meeting my lips with his own, owning mine in with a fervent fashion without the slightest fashion, our lips dancing away to the tunes of our hearts. Warm tingling sensation spreads all over emanating from a certain beating organ in my bosom. My head feels light, as my heart beats grow erratic. He's my serotonin.

He pulls away gently, resting his forehead on mine, caressing my face before tucking the few loose tendrils behind my ears. His gesture is surprisingly gentle, quite contrary to the first impression I got of him.

"As much as I like it, let's get changed. I can't just sit anymore covered in blood." I whisper reluctantly. He groans before agreeing and pulling away.

"Help me?" I plead, pouting my lips.

"Horny, are you?"

"I am injured, Mister. How will I change alone?" I glare at him.

"Fine, I will help." He says, bringing a scissor from the rack, ready to cut off the fabric.

"Wha-what are you doing?" I say pushing him away.

"Cutting the fabric." He states as if obvious.

"Really? I am not that rich to discard clothes after wearing them once." I scowl. This isn't just a dress, it's his first gift. And maybe the last one.

"Don't worry about that, it's on me." He says taking a step forward.

"Basheer-"

"What? You think I cut through clothes after wearing them once? It's your hand, you can't lift it up. How will you take off your dress?" He huffs. The action makes him look kind of cute. And I can't help but fall for him a bit more. How can he be. . .so annoyingly cute? He should be cold and detached.

"Oooo," My lips form an 'O' before they confirm back to their original shape, "Okay. . . then just cut through the other sleeve since this side is destroyed anyway."

He does so, making it look like a sleeveless Anarkali. "Now pull the chain." I say pointing to the chain at the back.

His fingers lightly graze the skin of my back, pulling the chain down. He exposes my creamy shoulders when he slides off the material, sliding down my body in a swoosh. His fingers graze my scar, tracing it before his hands slide round my waist pulling me to him so that his chest brushes against my bare back. I resist the temptation to cover up the scar but he has seen it before on multiple occasions.

I turn to him to find him looking at me thoughtfully, "What?"

"I was thinking, after this mission, I may take up the job of your personal nurse, since I seem to be tending to your wounds everytime." After the mission? Does he realise what he says? The words flicker an unknown emotion before the same emotion makes my chest constrict painfully. My face rests on his chest, hiding the drops of moisture glistening the corners of my eyes.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating. I press my face further smiling through the tears liking the way his chest vibrates. When I look up at him, I find his hand masking his grin,"Don't," I whisper, my hands involuntarily move up removing the hand masking his smile,"It's beautiful, your smile. I love it." And I love you.

And yet again, his grey eyes mesmerize me pulling me into a trance.

"Remember the first time you tended to my wounds?" I ask, a smile resisting to breakfree on my lips. When he nods I continue, "You were such a shameless creature."

"That?" He chuckles again, "I wanted you to hate me back then. When I saw the way you stared at me, I knew I had to do something. I broke in just to scare you but seeing the gash on your back, I couldn't step out."

"So, it wasn't my curves that had you standing there? But the gash?" I pout.

He chuckles, "The gash," his voice grows thick, "that's the excuse honey."

His endearment makes my heart flutter and in that moment I know what they meant by butterflies swarming their bellies. We literally pounce on each other, assaulting each other's lips like a hungry wolf. But, in the next moment a scream leaves my lips, making him jump back.

"Sorry. . . the stitches they kinda hurt." I whisper looking at him guiltily.

He leaves a breath, "Careful or they will open. Let's get you washed first."

_________________________________________________________

I envy as well as hate the control Basheer has on himself as I pop in some antibiotics and painkillers since the effect of the anaesthetic is gradually fading away. Not once did he touch me, other than using the loofah on my body. Maybe he doesn't need to control, I just don't affect him in any such way. Tonight we were supposed to venture out on the trip to Xandol, but I wonder if we can now.

Baheer comes out that very moment, shutting the bathroom door behind. A single towel is tied around his waist, showing off his bare legs and chest. His wet hair sticks to his forehead, hiding the silver lining of his eyes. He looked fresh after a bath, tiny trinkets of water droplets roll down his neck, inviting me to suck them off. I gulp before I reluctantly move my eyes away, I need a certain control over my emotions.

"Bash, weren't we supposed to be out on the street for Xandol."

"Bash? That's my nickname?" He chuckles, pulling out his clothes from the wardrobe. Why do I want to fucking jump on him and tear those clothes away?

"Answer the question first!"

"Yeah I will in a few hours."

"I? What about me?"

"You honestly think you can travel with that injury? I have put you in enough trouble as it is, no more. I will take your revenge, so you needn't go."

"Basheer, I'm not having an argument over this! This is just ridiculous! Please, the last thing I expect of you is to act like an alpha male."

"And you should stop acting like an alpha female then." He turns away, buttoning his shirt, hiding the view of his naked chest, flaring my temper even more. I never liked it when somebody, especially a man, thought they had the right to decide for me. I slip in between his arms, facing him now.

"Basheer, I want to go." I state with a straight face, "We are in this together. I don't wanna stay back and I won't be safe here anyway. What if they come looking for me, Basheer?"

He ponders for a moment before answering, "You are right, you won't be safe staying alone here."

"So, I am going with you right?"

"Hmmmm. ..Yes. But not before you get some sleep." His thumb finger points to the bed.

"But we need to set out."

"We will, trust me I'll call you." He says kissing the top of my forehead.

I am surprised at how easily he agrees, I had expected him to resist more. Basheer pulls me to the bed with him. He sets the A.C to a suitable temperature before pulling up the covers and drawing me as close as possible with my injured arm. I press my face to his chest, his jasmine musk enveloping me like a warm blanket. Soon the tiredness from the day takes over my consciousness, lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

________________________________________________________

I know, I know this chapter was boring. We want them to set out, do we not? So they will. In the next chapter. And i promise, it's gonna be interesting! But, the updates will now slow down, since it's getting really hectic for me.

Meanwhile I would love to hear your views as readers. Anything, it can be anything, even the stupidest thing, say it, I won't judge. It kinda gets lonely. I wanna hear from you, dearest reader.

Meanwhile don't forget to vote, comment and share!

FOLLOW ME FOR ALL UPDATES REGARDING CURSED OR BLESSED.

~Aparajita❤🌸