Gunnah e Shab

32. Family • خاندان

There are others who feel the same as you. — Bridgett Devoue

Sword Lillie grew in abundance in the slopes of the valley. The foothill turned pastel with their abundance. The farmers cultivated the land with precision each year, waiting for the flower that symbolised strength to grow. Each year they popped their heads out of the fertile soil and spread out, in acres of land. Miles upon miles of nothing but bright flora. The gladiolus had increased revenue for the locals, used in great amounts by the people that lived in the plains for decor. The aesthetic sight and light perfume was something one could talk about for days on end.

Summers were spent by the people lazing in their fields. Ignoring the weight of responsibilities that awaited them in their lives. Just for a mere few seconds, they were one with the land and all else mattered not. Large Indian weeping trees acted as the shade and anchor. Their thin leaves spread out with the branches hosting many tiny creatures, visitors from lands afar. Nature's bounty was enjoyed by all and with no fare. It was one of the if not the best way to spend summers. Lingering in the flower garden and then taking a dip in the cold lake.

Azmaray stared out from his bedroom window. His family was back at its place once again. Zaeem and Almas shifted into the large estate last night, and Laila's happiness had known no limits, realising she too would have a female companion. His eyes marvelled at the large terrain of land in front of his eyes, thoughts miles away. He was imagining the reaction of the people that had been the cause behind his pain. His eyes were molten fury, so tangible that even standing behind him Laila shuddered. They had arrived late, no one realising the arrival of Almas and Zaeem.

His starchy dress shirt caved in on her touch. Her fingers lightly pressing into the fibrous contours of his back. Lean shoulders hunched forward as she dragged her fingers up by the second. The tips of her crimson nail digging into the cool flesh of his neck. Her chanel scent clouding his senses. Laila stood on the tips of her toes, dropping a light kiss behind his earlobe. She sunk her teeth in the side of his broad neck wrapping hands around his lean waist. He pressed his hands on hers, his fingers wrapping around her thin wrist.

Turning her around he pulled her to his chest. Eyes full of heated passion glanced down at her. She noticed they were drenched in hurt, a slight twinge of want. His mouth was set into a deep wolfish grin. To her it was like his body had been crafted by hands finer than those Greek sculptors his library raved about. The curve of his sharp jaw and softness in his cheekbones was immaculate. Neat and precise. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing in harshly. Underneath the slate grey shirt his heart beat at an unimpossibly fast speed. Her palms sweating up against his body, eyes drooped.

"You realise we need to be downstairs right?" Laila whispered.

Her soft voice cut through the heavy channel of silence. Azmaray's breath stopping for a few seconds before resuming once more. A light flush on his face as he hummed in agreement. Lounging around in his bedroom would not stop the inevitable from occurring. It was the need of the hour to face the 'heads' of this house. He was done living in fear, tired of his mind calculating every move he took. He could not pretend he owed them his life, any longer. It was time to look for the root cause and pluck it out.

"Azmaray!" Laila snapped her fingers before his face.

Blinking, he nodded his head. Wrapping his fist around her palm and kissing the back of it softly. A light blush splattered across the plateau of her cheeks. Fading out a few seconds later and the familiar shade of wheat taking over once more.

"I know. I know. Just a few more minutes," he spoke.

Bending forward he nuzzled his face into her neck. Deeply inhaling her perfume, that mixed in with the apricot scent of her shampoo. It was a pleasant mix, one that screamed Summer. Sun, light, warmth and picnics. The truth was, confronting the people he had lived with meant looking his life into the eye before slaughtering it. Picking it apart, piece by piece with no mercy. The past two days had been full of revelations. He could not forgive Saheefa for being the reason of his parents divorce. Nor could he let Hooriya stay in the walls of his home—after realising she could have given him safe passage to his mother all this time.